The Way It Never Was (Introduction)

The following story is fictional and is provided solely for the enjoyment 
of its readers. While there are references to actual businesses and 
locations, the characters in the story are entirely fictional. Any 
resemblance to a real person either living or dead is completely 
coincidental. This fictional account does contain adult language and 
themes. If such language and themes offend you, please read no further. 
This story is copyrighted by AZ-MAN, 2002 all rights reserved. Permission 
is granted to reproduce it in any form and for any purpose as long as this 
notice is reproduced and no financial remuneration is received, directly or 
indirectly, by the person reproducing it. 

The Way It Never Was 

Some Opening Words- 

Ever since I discovered the Internet and the vast storehouse of information 
that awaits behind a simple double click of the Netscape or Explorer icon 
on my computer desktop, I have been in pursuit of truths and understanding 
about us. I've visited hundreds, maybe even a thousand web sites hoping for 
some confirmation that there's someone out there like me, that sees things 
I see, that understands what it's like to live with what I feel and has 
experienced life's joys and disappointments along the way. While it didn't 
take visits to many web sites to confirm there's an entire subculture in 
cyberspace dedicated to exploiting the simple sexual issues, it wasn't as 
easy to find mainstream commentary written by qualified professionals 
(psychiatrists, psychologists) on the subject. There was a point, right 
after my divorce, that I craved information on this level and there was 
only so much the forums, the .jpgs and the video clips could do. At one 
point, I actually sought professional help and went to perhaps 10 or 15 
sessions with a counselor but it was mainly to deal with the more general 
issues surrounding divorce - not specifics on my blessing / curse. I just 
couldn't bring myself to ask that first crucial question. 

What I've come to recognize is we are all part of this unique fraternity, 
each of us acknowledging our feelings through the stories we put up on this 
web page. And since I've yet to verbally speak to anyone about my own 
experiences, I've decided to contribute by writing my own story. Its 
intention is simple - to provide information and reinforce that we all have 
this common bond - that we all went through puberty like everyone else, 
dated girls like everyone else, awkwardly slow danced at that first eighth 
grade mixer, had a few short-lived girlfriends in high school, so on and so 
forth, right? Everything brimming with the wonder and excitement of being a 
teenager, yet enormously confusing at the same time. 

Somewhere along the way, somewhere between Boy Scouts or Little League 
(take your pick) and tenth grade homecoming, something happened. Something 
inside told our adolescent bodies to start paying more attention to females 
- more clearly, to start lusting after them. That was the easy part. You 
don't get to join our fraternity for that. For some of us (and I'm talking 
to the "us" that found our way to these pages) we got a little more than we 
bargained for-and we didn't even ask for it. How could we have? How does 
one ask to have his male sexuality inexplicably linked not just to women, 
but to women that happen to smoke long white cigarettes? Women that inhale 
their smoke slowly and sensually and exhale in smooth wonderful 
streams-motions with their lips and bodies so closely intertwined that, to 
us, their smoking irrevocably links them to their own basic femininity. We 
each took keen delight in the marvelous sensations and joys brought on by 
the discovery of female smoking but the irony was, we thought we were the 
only ones in the entire universe wired this way. And when we took time to 
contemplate this fact, it scared us to death. 

Now here I sit, 40 years old, secure in the knowledge that there are 
thousands (probably not millions but at least thousands) out there like me. 
It really IS a fraternity after all. From around age 14, and for the next 
20+ years, I had no knowledge - not even a clue - that I wasn't the only 
one dealing with this joyful affliction. But the purpose of my story is not 
to trample you with the boring details of my life from age 14 forward. It's 
really to select a few episodes based on personal experience that weave 
together a theme, a theme that may be the common bond representing what 
many of us are still grappling with today. 

Before I continue, let me add one final thought. I think it would be safe 
to speculate that for many of us, our fetish (yes, I'll call it a fetish 
from this point on), that our fetish was born of some unconscious 
observations of female smoking before reaching puberty. Perhaps our mothers 
smoked, as mine did. And even though we all loved our mothers, at some 
point, we successfully resolved our burdensome Oedipus complex. When I did, 
my pre-pubescent love (crush) transferred to other women in my life at that 
time. Examples that come to mind are my sixth grade teacher, my Cub Scout 
Den Mother and my own mother's friends - many of whom smoked. Keep in mind, 
it was the late sixties / early seventies and even though the Surgeon 
General had already declared that "smoking was hazardous to your health" 
many women were still lighting up with regularity. In fact, American women 
in the 18 - 30 age group represented the fastest growing segment of smokers 
in that time period (1973). And for a 13-year-old with this budding fetish, 
it suited me just fine. 

As I said, I have a few episodes from my life that I want to share but 
before I go there, allow me a quick lead-in with one of several `Poloroid' 
snapshots from my youth. Snapshots captured and etched permanently on my 
brain that defined the way I looked at women and confirmed my inexplicable 
attraction to the ones that smoked. 

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