All He Ever Wanted, Part 1

(by SSTORYMAN, 17 May 1996)


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    This story contains adult language and sexual themes. If such language and
themes offend you, please do not read further. Copyright 1996 by SSTORYMAN.
All rights reserved. Permission is hereby granted to reproduce this story in
any fashion and for any purpose as long as no financial remuneration is
received by the person reproducing the same.


    ALL HE EVER WANTED


    1. The Date.

    Roger Anderson looked at his watch. It was almost seven o'clock. He'd
dated girls before, but he felt unusually nervous about this one. He was
meeting Theresa Simpson for dinner any minute now. He was excited, but
apprehensive.

    Roger was a sophomore at the college. He was a good student. Nothing
special, but not a professional partier, either. His major was English
Literature. Roger suspected he'd be unemployable after graduating with an
English Lit degree. But he liked the English program at the college, and his
parents believed in a liberal arts education. Roger guessed he did, too. This
fall semester he was taking a class on Geoffrey Chaucer. In that class he met
Theresa.

    While he waited on the stoop in front of the student union, Roger lit a
cigarette. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, which the breeze immediately caught
and dissipated. Tonight I'm going to see Theresa smoke, he smiled to himself
as he took a second drag. The thought of watching Theresa smoke, combined with
the sensation of sucking smoke into his own lungs, made Roger's crotch hard.

    As long as he could remember, Roger'd been fascinated with women smoking.
He never understood why, but he always liked to see magazine ads showing women
smoking. He watched closely any movie with women smoking. But best of all
Roger liked watching women smoke in person. He loved seeing a pretty girl take
a deep drag on a cigarette and release a big cloud of smoke from her lips.
Roger's crotch tightened more as he thought about it.

    During high school, Roger smoked, but never in public. His parents would
not have approved! He smoked in private. He was embarrassed about it, but he
liked to masturbate while smoking. Last year, when he started college, Roger
thought about "being" a smoker, smoking in public. But he chickened out. I
don't have to, he decided, to watch women smoke. Roger liked to smoke, but his
primary interest was seeing girls do it.

    However, early in his freshman year Roger regretted his decision not to
"be" a smoker. He missed having an easy excuse to hang around smokers. There
was a smoking area in the student union. As the year went on, Roger spent more
and more time studying there, watching the women who couldn't smoke in their
rooms smoke while they studied. At the end of spring semester, Roger decided
to give in. He wanted to smoke in the smoking lounge while he watched the
girls smoke. That meant he'd have to "go public."

    So last month, when his sophomore year began, Roger did it. He came out of
the closet and started smoking in public. For the first time in his life,
Roger was an admitted cigarette smoker. Surprisingly, few people seemed to
care. But he discovered he enjoyed smoking for its own sake, not just as an
excuse to be with women who smoke. Addiction took hold. Soon Roger was smoking
almost a pack a day. His old friends didn't particularly care that he smoked,
but they didn't understand why he started. And he didn't tell them why. No
way, Roger mused.

    "Hi, Roger." A cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up. It
was Theresa. He saw her slender, supple body, lovely face, and short blond
hair. She was dressed in blue jeans, a sweatshirt and a big smile. "Roger, I
didn't know you smoked," she said, pointing to the cigarette in his hand.
"Shame on you!" But her grin contradicted the mock severity in her voice.

    "Oh, yeah," Roger answered nervously, throwing his butt on the ground. He
panicked. He was sure Theresa smoked, but what if she didn't like guys who
did? Roger caught hold of himself. It didn't matter. He was a smoker now,
whether or not she (or anyone else) liked it.

    "Hey, Theresa," he answered as he stood up, "I've been looking forward to
this. I mean, to getting to know you," he added. I'm not going to respond to
her smoking comment, he decided. Not yet.

    Theresa giggled and smiled coyly. "I've been looking forward to getting to
know you, too, Roger," she answered. "And hey, I already know you a little
better. Today I found out you smoke." She smiled again. Roger melted. Her red
sweatshirt and blue jeans looked good on her. Almost too good. He stared at
her for a moment. "Hey," Theresa interrupted, "wake up! Let's get something to
eat." So they started off across campus.

    While they walked together, Roger reviewed the little he knew about
Theresa. For the last six weeks, she'd been sitting next to him in Chaucer
class. She was attractive and easy to talk to. She too was a sophomore,
thinking about majoring in English Lit. They talked about it, and about other
things, before and after class. Very cute, very sweet, and a little out of my
league, Roger thought at first. He'd never been popular with girls, so he
never considered asking her out. That is, until he saw Theresa looking for
something in her purse and saw a pack of Marlboro Light 100's. Oh my God, he
said to himself, she smokes! At that moment, Roger decided to risk it. He
asked Theresa out to dinner. Surprisingly, she'd agreed. So here they were, on
a first date.

    Despite his voyeuristic interest, never before had Roger dated a girl who
smoked. But since he started smoking, he decided from now on he'd go out only
with smokers. Having given in to his fetish and come out of the closet, it was
one of his most important criteria. Roger wanted a girlfriend to smoke with..
He didn't know if anything would work out with Theresa, but he hoped it would.
She was gorgeous!

    Roger and Theresa talked about nothing in particular while they crossed
Main Street. The campus area was full of bars, cafes and restaurants. They
decided to go to Johnson's, a locally owned restaurant and bar that was
popular with students.

    When they entered the restaurant, the hostess greeted them. The place
looked busy. "Smoking or non?" the hostess asked. Theresa was the first to
answer.

    "We'll need smoking, I think," she replied, looking knowingly at Roger.

    "Okay," the hostess replied absent-mindedly, looking at her display of
available tables. "Gee, I'm sorry," she went on, "but all our smoking tables
are full. I can put you in non-smoking right away. Or you can wait. It'll be
about ten minutes for smoking."

    Roger looked at Theresa. No reaction. Apparently she didn't want to make
the call. So Roger decided for them. "We'll wait for smoking," he announced to
the hostess. From the corner of his eye he looked at Theresa. She looked
amused.

    "Sure thing," the hostess answered with a smile. "You can wait in the bar.
I'll call you when your table is ready. You can smoke in there," she added
with a wink.

    Roger and Theresa walked into the bar. They sat down. Neither was 21, so
they didn't even try to order a drink while they waited. Roger wanted Theresa
to light up first. He didn't want to be the first to smoke. But she didn't.
After several moments of silence, Theresa was the first to speak.

    "So, Roger," Theresa began, "frankly, I'm surprised. I didn't know you
smoked. I asked my friends who lived in your freshman dorm to tell me about
you. I found out a lot, but they didn't mention you were a smoker."

    Roger was pleased and impressed. She'd done her homework. She was
interested. And he was glad she'd brought up smoking. "Yeah," he said
mischievously, "is that bad?"

    "No," Theresa replied, "I'm just surprised, that's all. By the way, my
friends tell me you're a really nice guy. I don't care whether you smoke. It's
not necessarily bad."

    Roger smiled. "Well," he answered truthfully, "I never smoked in public
until recently. I was embarrassed about it, I guess. It's not considered chic
these days, you know." He paused. Theresa didn't respond. She wasn't
furthering the conversation. "I mean, I like to smoke," he went on nervously,
"but I don't have to. Smoke, I mean. If it bothers you, I won't."

    Roger was being polite. Why didn't Theresa admit she smoked too? Was she
embarrassed? Or was he mistaken about the cigarettes in her purse? No, thought
Roger, I'm sure I wasn't mistaken.

    Theresa smiled again. "Smoking doesn't bother me," she answered
matter-of-factly. She sat quietly staring at the hostess. The conversation
ended. Roger noticed the hostess was seating people in the non-smoking
section. For several long moments neither of them said anything.

    God, Roger thought during the silence, I hate this! I hate it when you go
on a date and you don't know each other. Neither one of you knows what to say.
What a disaster!

    Suddenly Roger wanted a cigarette. There'd be time to smoke one. But he
still didn't want to light up first. And Theresa wasn't making any move to
smoke.

    Shit, Roger said to himself. I want to smoke. Maybe she quit, he worried.
But hell, he reasoned, I've got nothing to lose if I smoke. I'm not interested
in a relationship with any girl who doesn't or won't. It's okay for me to
light up. Who cares what she thinks, anyway?

    He looked at Theresa. "So," he asked politely, "mind if I do?" He pulled a
pack of Merit 100's from his jacket pocket along with a lighter. "Smoke, I
mean?"

    Before Theresa answered, the hostess called his name. "Anderson," she
said, "table for two. Smoking."

    "I guess that's us," Theresa smiled nervously, "let's go."

    Roger put his cigarettes back in his pocket and stood up. Theresa walked
ahead of him. He followed her to the hostess stand. The hostess took them to
the smoking section in the back of the restaurant and seated them at a small
table for two.

    Roger checked out the area. The smoking section was crowded. All around
them people were smoking. At the table next to them sat four girls, obviously
students, smoking and talking. Roger had a great view, and they were having a
great time. God, Roger thought, that's where I want to be. That's where I've
always wanted to be! Sitting with a beautiful woman (or women) smoking up a
storm! He looked at Theresa. She was beautiful. But she wasn't smoking. Damn!

    She picked up a menu. "What's good here?"

    Roger picked one up, too. "Everything I've had here has been great," he
answered as he looked over the menu. "Depends on what you want."

    "I think I'd like a salad," Theresa replied.

    Damn, thought Roger, I hate it when the girl eats like a bird. It makes me
feel like a pig when I order a dinner.

    Theresa looked at the next table where the four girls were smoking. The
waitress just brought their food. One girl put her cigarette out as a Cobb
Salad was set in front of her. "That Cobb Salad looks really good," Theresa
continued. "I think that's what I'll have. What're you going to have, Roger?"

    A cigarette, I wish, Roger sighed to himself. And I wish with you smoking
one, too, Theresa.

    "Oh, I don't know," he answered aloud, "maybe a reuben sandwich and some
fries." He was about to get out his cigarettes for the second time when the
waitress approached.

    "My name is Anne, and I'll be your server," she began. "Can I get you guys
drinks?"

    "Coffee for me," Theresa smiled. "Regular, not decaf, lots of cream."

    Roger smiled. "Diet Pepsi."

    "Diet Coke okay?" Anne asked politely.

    "Sure," Roger sighed. It figures, he thought. I hate Diet Coke.

    Now he was really ready for that cigarette. Okay, Roger thought, it's now
or never. I'm going to smoke a cigarette. Whatever she's thinking, good or
bad, I'm going to smoke. Maybe she'll join me. But if she doesn't like it, too
bad!

    "So," Roger said aloud, "mind if I smoke?"

    Theresa smiled. "Not at all, Roger," she answered politely. "Go right
ahead."

    Roger got his pack of Merit 100's and pulled out a cigarette. Putting it
in his mouth, he quickly lit up. As smoke hit his lungs, he felt better. Over
the last month, he'd gotten used to the relief he felt each time he had a
cigarette. More and more he liked tobacco on its own terms.

    As he exhaled, Theresa watched but said nothing. She made no move to join
him. Roger was perplexed. Once he started, he thought Theresa would pull out
her own cigarettes and join him. She must have quit, Roger told himself. Just
my luck!

    But after thinking for a minute, Roger decided to ask. That would settle
it. For whatever reason, she wasn't smoking. Rather than speculate, he wanted
to know why. He took a drag on his cigarette.

    "So, Theresa, tell me," he began innocently, "have you ever smoked?"

    Theresa blushed. "Actually, no," she answered firmly, "never." She looked
at the floor.

    No way, Roger said to himself. I saw cigarettes in your purse! What's
going on? I don't get it? This was not what Roger expected. He decided to be
more aggressive. What's the worst that can happen?

    "Oh, really?" he answered aloud. "I thought I saw a pack of Marlboro Light
100's in your purse a few days ago. You're not holding out on me, are you
Theresa?" There was a hint of sarcasm in Roger's voice.

    Theresa looked surprised. Suddenly she seemed nervous. "Oh," she said
breathlessly, "those? Yeah, well, I...." She stuttered a bit. "I mean, no, I
never really smoked them. They belonged to someone else ...." Roger listened
with interest as he took a drag on his cigarette.

    The more she tried to explain, the more flustered Theresa became, fumbling
for words and almost drowning in her explanation. "That is, I wasn't.... I
mean, those cigarettes were for ...."

    Finally Theresa stopped and looked at him. As her eyes met his, her face
became calm. "Shit, Roger," she said flatly. "Yes, those were my cigarettes.
But it's a secret. No one is supposed to know."

    "Why?" Roger asked. "What's the big deal? Why do you care who knows? Do
you smoke or not?"

    Theresa seemed embarrassed. She talked quietly, as if someone might be
listening.

    "Yes," she sighed. "I guess I do smoke."

    Roger was a bit irritated. "Well, then," he inquired, "what's the deal?
Why pretend you don't, and then lie about it?"

    Theresa fidgeted as she answered. "I started smoking this summer. But no
one must know. See, my sister Alison is here at the college. She's a senior.
If she found out, she'd never let me hear the end of it. And she'd tell my
dad. So I don't smoke in public. He'd kill me."

    Roger smiled. He understood being afraid to smoke in public. "There is an
interesting story here, Theresa. Tell me about it." He saw the server
approaching the table. "That is, after we order."

    They ordered their food. Theresa said nothing until the waitress left. She
obviously wanted to be careful about anyone hearing this story.

    "Okay," she began quietly, "I started this summer. I attended summer
semester but I enrolled too late to get a dorm room. So over the summer I
lived with a friend from high school, Julie Fischer, in her apartment off
campus. Her roommate, Pam, was gone for the summer. Julie was glad for someone
to share the rent."

    A look of recognition appeared on Roger's face. "Do you know Julie?"
Theresa asked.

    Roger nodded. He sure did. Julie lived in his dorm last year. She was a
gorgeous redhead with a reputation. Roger knew her because she was a frequent
visitor to the student union's smoking lounge. She was wild, beautiful, and
smoked a lot. Roger liked to watch her. She was hard to forget! But Roger
didn't want to admit that to Theresa.

    "Oh, yeah, I know her, a little bit. She lived in my dorm last year,"
Roger replied. "We aren't good friends, but I've talked to Julie." His face
brightened. "She was one of your sources of information about me, wasn't she?"

    Theresa smiled. "Maybe," she said coyly. "Okay, I'll tell you how I
started. But you've got to promise you'll never tell. Do you swear?"

    "Okay," Roger replied, "I promise not to tell anyone." He was becoming
more curious.

    "You see," Theresa began, "Julie smokes." Roger nodded. "I knew that
before I moved in," Theresa went on, "but I told her I didn't mind. And I
didn't. Of course, even if I minded there wasn't anything to be done. I needed
someplace to live over the summer. Anyway, I hung out with Julie and her
friends all summer. You know, parties, having coffee together, sitting around
talking, that kind of thing. And Julie's friends smoke, too. It's the main
thing they do when they get together. They smoke."

    Sounds great, Roger thought to himself. He felt tightness in his groin
area as he imagined the scenario.

    "Well, after a few weeks it started to bother me," Theresa continued. "Not
the smoke. I didn't mind that. I'd never lived with a smoker, but I got used
to the cigarette smoke. But what bothered me was being excluded. I mean,
they'd all light up - Julie and her friends - and smoke. And I'd just sit
there. I guess I got jealous, curious about what I was missing."

    "So what did you do?" asked Roger, although he knew the answer.

    "Not hard to guess, is it?" Theresa answered with an evil grin. "One
night, after going out for coffee, we were hanging around the apartment. They
were smoking, so I told them I wanted to learn to smoke, too. They taught me."

    Roger's cock got harder the longer he listened. "But what do you mean?" he
asked innocently. "What did you do?" Roger wanted more details.

    Theresa looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, at first they laughed at me. I
told them I was serious. It looked like fun and I wanted to learn. Julie gave
me a cigarette and showed me what to do: how to puff, how to inhale, how to
exhale; you know, how to smoke."

    "And so did you? Smoke, I mean? With the other girls?"

    "Sure," Theresa replied proudly. "At first I felt light-headed, but I
wasn't going to admit it to them. After the first cigarette, I decided to
smoke every time Julie had one. So I had five that first night. After awhile,
I kind of liked it. It WAS fun."

    She stopped. "I can't believe I'm telling you this. But that's about it,"
Theresa shrugged.

    "So did you start smoking all the time? Right away?"

    Theresa nodded. "Yep," she admitted. "I started and never stopped.
Actually, I didn't smoke much at first. In the beginning I only smoked with
Julie in the apartment. Then I started smoking when we got together with her
friends. By the end of the summer, I was up to almost half a pack a day. Then
I moved back onto campus at the beginning of this semester, with Dawn, my
roommate from last year. Dawn doesn't smoke. She doesn't like me to smoke in
the room, though I do anyway. I'm afraid to smoke anywhere else. So it's been
tough. Sometimes I feel I'm going to go crazy if I can't have a cigarette."
She looked amused. "I guess that means I'm getting hooked, huh?"

    "Sure does," Roger replied knowingly. By now he'd finished his cigarette.
The food still hadn't arrived. He decided to ask the question he'd wanted to
ask since Theresa started her fascinating story. "Well, Theresa," he asked
slowly, "why don't you have a cigarette now, with me? We've got time before
our food comes."

    Theresa shook her head and frowned. "I knew you'd ask me that," she said
sadly. "And I'd really like to. God, I'd love a cigarette. I haven't had one
since lunch. But you don't understand. If someone saw me smoke, and told
Alison, my secret would be out."

    "Alison's your sister?"

    "Right," Theresa confirmed. "If she knew I was smoking, she'd tell my dad.
I can't risk him finding out. He'd absolutely shit if he knew."

    "Why?" asked Roger. "What's the big deal? You're over 18. It's not
illegal."

    "No, that's not it," Theresa continued. "You see, my dad's a doctor, a
consultant to a bunch of anti-smoking groups. If he knew I was smoking he'd be
furious. He'd consider it a personal affront. He hates smokers. He'd threaten
to stop paying my tuition unless I quit. No, I can't afford to have him find
out."

    "Look, Theresa," Roger said, "you're smoking half a pack a day. He's going
to find out sooner or later. How can you keep it a secret?"

    Theresa looked troubled. "I don't know," she admitted. Obviously she was
avoiding facing the issue. "I don't know."

    "Well," Roger added, "you have two options. Eventually, Theresa, you
either have to quit or tell. Because unless you've got super-human self
control, which I doubt, you won't be able to hide it forever. When you go home
you'll have to smoke sometime, somewhere."

    For selfish reasons Roger didn't want to encourage her to quit. He wanted
to see her smoke. Now. But the conclusion was inescapable. "Have you thought
about quitting?"

    "Yes," Theresa replied thoughtfully, "I have. But I _don't_ want to quit.
Smoking's a funny thing," she went on. "I've never experienced anything like
it. It gets its hooks into you quickly and deep, doesn't it?" She smiled
ruefully. "The problem is, I like to smoke. I know it's not good for me. But
I'm not going to stop. And it'll be a disaster when my dad finds out."

    "Could you make a deal with your sister?" Roger suggested. "Tell her about
it, but somehow get her to keep it quiet?"

    Theresa nodded. "In the short run, I'll have to. You're right. I'm smoking
enough that sooner or later I'll slip up and Alison will find out." She
brightened up and smiled. "God, you're right, Roger. I should make a deal with
Alison."

    Roger was pleased. Theresa didn't want to quit. Now more than ever he
wanted to see her smoke. Listening to her talk about smoking excited him. He
wanted her to put a cigarette between those sweet lips and take a big drag. He
decided to encourage her in that direction.

    "Listen, Theresa," he urged, "have a cigarette with me right now! " He
tried to look sympathetic. "You look troubled. I'll bet a cigarette would make
you feel better. What do ya think?"

    She stared at him. "I'd really like to," she hesitated. "But I don't know.
Do you think it's a good idea for me to smoke in public?"

    "I think it's a great idea," Roger smiled sarcastically. "Seriously, It'll
force you to deal with your sister. That's good. It's inevitable. Plus, you
look like you could use a smoke!"

    Theresa didn't need much convincing. "Okay," she sighed, "I'd love one.
But I'll have to bum one of yours. Can I?"

    Roger smiled. "Sure. If you're willing to smoke Merits."

    "Sure," Theresa replied eagerly as Roger offered his pack. "They're
similar to Marlboro Light 100's. That's what I smoke."

    Theresa took a cigarette from Roger and carefully placed it between her
lips. Suddenly she removed it and looked around. "Just checking," she grinned
as she returned the cigarette to her mouth. "I don't see anybody I know.
Okay," she continued, "light me up!"

    Roger flicked his lighter. Theresa leaned forward and caught the flame,
holding the cigarette between her fingers. Immediately she began a drag on the
burning cylinder, hollowing her checks as her fingers and lips jointly gripped
the cigarette. God, thought Roger, she _was_ ready for a smoke!

    He watched her finish her first drag. Theresa inhaled the smoke into the
deepest recesses of her chest. By all appearances, he decided, she was not a
novice! Theresa looked like someone who'd been smoking for years, not months.
Immediately after inhaling her first drag, she returned the cigarette to her
mouth for a second, even longer one.

    Roger lit a cigarette of his own as he watched. "How's that taste?," he
asked. The question was hypothetical. Theresa didn't answer. Instead, she
nodded as she continued to pull. She was consuming smoke like a starving man
sitting down to dinner!

    Theresa inhaled the second drag. Smoke from her first began its escape
from her nostrils. God, Roger thought, what a beautiful sight! Although
Theresa didn't know, Roger's cock was standing at attention; this was turning
into a wonderful demonstration! He was glad he'd pushed her into having a
cigarette. She was a pleasure to behold.

    Following the second drag, Theresa took the cigarette from her lips and
held it in the air between the fingers of her right hand. Her exhale was slow
and creamy. She had a big smile on her face. "There," she sighed finally,
"that's much better!"

    Roger couldn't help but notice how good the cigarette looked in between
Theresa's long, slender fingers. They now held the cigarette cocked beside her
head. Theresa's red fingernails provided a nice color contrast to the Merit's
cork filter, which already showed a tint of red from her lipstick.

    Theresa smiled at Roger. "This makes me really nervous," she whispered,
"but I know you're right. If I'm going to be a smoker, I have to get used to
smoking in public." She giggled. "Actually," Theresa admitted, "this is kinda
fun. Smoking in the restaurant like this, in front of all these people, makes
me feel like I'm getting away with something!"

    Roger smiled and nodded. He watched as she took another drag, tapped some
ashes into the ashtray, and blew a large cloud of smoke into the air. She was
smoking less frantically now. Her urge for nicotine began to be satisfied by
her repeated drags.

    "So," he asked after a few moments, "what are you going to tell your
sister?"

    Theresa took another hit and frowned. While she thought, smoke trickled
from her nostrils. Finally she answered. "I guess I'll tell Alison the truth.
I'll tell her that, while living with Julie this summer, I started smoking and
I'm not going to quit. I'll ask her not to tell Dad. I'll ask her nicely."
Theresa pondered the question a bit longer. "If she refuses to go along, I can
always use blackmail."

    At this Roger raised his eyebrows, and Theresa laughed. "Don't worry," she
said after taking another quick puff. "My dad doesn't know Alison is living
with her boyfriend. He thinks she's living in the dorm with her roommate. Dad
wouldn't be as upset about Alison living in sin as he would about me smoking,
but the threat of me telling him might keep Alison quiet." She paused. "I'll
have to think about that."

    Finally, the waitress brought their food. The topic of conversation turned
to English Lit in general and their Chaucer class in particular. As she put
the plates in front of them, they crushed their cigarettes in the ashtray.

    After they finished eating, Roger mentioned their mid-term exam was coming
up. "Hey, Roger," Theresa suggested, "you and I could study for the first
midterm together."

    "Sure," Roger responded. God, she wanted to study with him, which meant
they'd smoke together, too. Roger was sure he'd died and gone to heaven! He
liked Theresa more and more the longer they talked. She was a very nice
person. And she was a coming-out-of-the-closet smoker like himself. As far as
he was concerned it was a no-brainer "That'd be fun."

    "Great," Theresa continued. "Let's start tonight. I'm having trouble with
the reading assignment for next class. You could come over to my room after
dinner, only ...." She stopped.

    "Only what?" Roger asked.

    "Only Dawn will kill me if we smoke while we study. She's been a real
bitch about it this week." Theresa frowned. "And if you come over, I'm going
to want to smoke."

    Me, too, thought Roger. "Well, what about the union? We could study in the
union, in the smoking area there."

    "Yeah," Theresa admitted, "but I'm not sure I'm ready to go in there. Even
though everyone who goes there smokes, I need to talk to Alison before I risk
that."

    Roger was disappointed. He didn't want to miss the opportunity. Suddenly
he had an idea. "What about my place? I've got a single room on west campus.
It's not big, but if one of us sits on the bed and the other at the desk, we
could study there. And you can smoke as much as you want!" Roger was proud of
his dorm room. It was unusual for a sophomore to have a single room. It wasn't
big, and it was off the beaten track, but it was a single.

    Theresa grinned. "God, that'd be great! And it's on west campus?" She
thought for a moment. "Hey, can I stop and visit you when I'm on west campus
and need a smoke break?"

    Roger smiled back. "Sure," he replied. This was better than he expected.
"When I'm there, I'm ready for a smoke break anytime you stop by." God,
sitting in his room, smoking with Theresa - sounded like a dream come true.

    Theresa pushed her plate back on the table. "Roger," she asked with a hint
of mischief in her voice. "Can I smoke another cigarette? I'd love another
one. If you don't mind, that is."

    Delighted, Roger picked up his pack of Merits and offered it to Theresa.
"Hell, Theresa," he grinned. "I never turn down an opportunity to smoke with a
beautiful woman. Here."

    Theresa pulled a cigarette from the pack and placed it between her
fingers, waiting for him to light it. Obediently, Roger picked up his lighter,
flicked it, and held it in front of her face. Theresa once again leaned toward
the flame and caught it with the tip of the cigarette in her mouth. Roger was
feeling more and more confident. And much more comfortable.

    "Thank you," she said as the cigarette came to life. Theresa took a big
first drag and sucked the smoke in. Once again Roger's cock hardened. God, she
looked good, he thought.

    As he watched Theresa smoke, her smoking style intrigued him. Each time
she took a drag she opened her mouth to inhale. You could see the smoke going
in. That wasn't unusual. But after a few moments she exhaled a strong, brief
stream through her mouth, stopped, breathed in again, and then finished
exhaling very slowly through her mouth and her nose until the smoke was gone.
He asked Theresa where she learned to inhale and exhale that way.

    "Oh, Julie taught me," she laughed. "When I started smoking, she told me
to inhale as much smoke as I can for as long as possible. Keeping it in your
lungs feels so good! But if you breathe in again before you finish exhaling,
and then re-inhale like this, you keep some of the smoke inside longer. Pretty
cool, huh?"

    "Yeah," Roger said with admiration. Now that she mentioned it, he
remembered Julie smoked the same way. God, it looked great! Taking a drag
himself, Roger tried her technique. "Like this?" he asked. He began an exhale,
stopped, breathed in, and then exhaled some more.

    "You've got it!" Theresa nodded. "Sometimes I hold the smoke inside as
long as I can. I let it escape after awhile, but I never blow the smoke out.
Like this!" She took another drag, inhaled into her lungs, and then waited.
Eventually the smoke tricked from her nostrils in short bursts as she breathed
in and out.

    Roger shook his head. "Theresa," he said with genuine admiration. "You
smoke like someone who started more than a few months ago."

    "It's because of Julie," she replied. "Julie taught me to smoke with
style. She's real serious about it. You ought to talk with her about it
sometime."

    "I'd love to," Roger agreed. God, he thought, would I ever!!

    They finished with coffee and cigarettes. After Roger paid the bill, they
decided to walk to his room. "So I'll know where it is," Theresa explained.
"And we can study Chaucer together for a little while. It's not too late."

    After a brief walk they arrived at Roger's dorm. Several guys on his floor
saw him come in with Theresa. From the looks on their faces, he knew what they
were thinking: Roger's getting lucky! He didn't think it was true, but he
smiled and greeted them as if this were an everyday occurrence.

    "You're right, it is small," Theresa admitted as they entered Roger's dorm
room. "But actually it's kind of cozy."

    Roger hung up his jacket and offered Theresa the desk chair. He sat on the
bed. "Do you want to go over the notes from yesterday's class?" he asked.

    Theresa smiled and stretched, like she was too tired to think about it.
"How about if we have a smoke first? Can I have another cigarette? God, you
must think I'm a real pest! All I've done tonight is smoke your cigarettes! I
promise next time I'll bring my own. I'll pay you back."

    "Don't worry about it," Roger assured her. "Here, just keep the pack." He
handed it to Theresa. He'd opened it this afternoon, but it was less than half
full.

    Instead of objecting, Theresa smiled. "Thank you, Roger," she said.
"You're a real dear." She shook out a cigarette and looked around for a
lighter. Seeing one sitting on the desk, she picked it up and lit her
cigarette. Roger opened his desk drawer to get a fresh pack for himself.
Theresa saw him. "Roger, here, have one of mine," she teased. He took one, and
she lit it for him. Roger sat on the bed across from her, careful not to let
Theresa see the growing bulge in his pants.

    "Roger," she said as smoke escaped from her nostrils. "Do you have a
girlfriend?"

    Oh my God, thought Roger. I must be dreaming! "No, not now," he replied
calmly. "I really haven't dated anyone since last year." He waited a moment,
and then countered. "How about you? Are you seeing anybody?"

    Theresa took a drag and inhaled. "Actually, no. Not now. I was seeing a
guy. But it's over. Maybe you know him. Dick Rogers. Like Julie, he also lived
in your dorm last year."

    "Yeah, I know Dick. He's a good guy," Roger offered politely.

    Theresa smiled. "Yeah, he _was_ good," she answered with a wicked grin. "I
started going with him spring semester. Before he and I went out, he dated
Julie for awhile. They broke up because he gave her shit about smoking. Julie
told him to fuck off, so he did. Shortly after, Dick and I started going out.
Julie was mad. She accused me of stealing Dick, which wasn't true. The two of
them were through before Dick and I got together. Before I moved in this
summer, Julie and I settled it. She got over it." She smiled. "Ironically,
when Dick found out I was smoking, too, he started to give me shit. We broke
up about two weeks ago. Same issue. The guy doesn't want his girlfriend to
smoke. Control freak, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders. "So, the short
answer is, I'm not seeing anyone."

    Roger tapped some ashes into the ashtray. He wanted to watch Theresa take
more hits on her cigarette. He liked watching her. "I haven't dated anybody
seriously since high school," he replied off-handedly as she puffed again. "I
guess I'm not the kind of guy women line up to go with."

    "Nonsense," Theresa protested, as smoke wafted from her nose at the end of
an exhale. "You're a good guy. A bit of a straight arrow, but lots of fun. And
you're very thoughtful. What more does a woman look for?"

    "I don't know," Roger sighed. "Maybe a guy with buns of steel. All I know
is, I haven't exactly been lucky in love since I got to college." He hoped
this discussion was going where he thought it was.

    Theresa looked right at him. "Roger," she began. "Don't get down on
yourself. You've got something else that a lot of girls who smoke are looking
for. You're a smoker!"

    "Believe me, that's usually not considered a plus," Roger replied. Which
was true. He knew lots of women wouldn't go out with a guy who smoked. Of
course, Roger wasn't interested in those women anyway. But he didn't say that.

    "Maybe it's not a plus for some women," Theresa admitted, tapping ashes
into the ashtray and taking a last drag before putting her cigarette out. "But
for those of us who smoke, we're tired of taking shit from guys like Dick. I'd
rather have a guy who lets me smoke when I want, and who understands that I
enjoy my cigarettes. Someone who doesn't just put up with my smoking, but who
joins in. Julie and I've talked about it since I broke up with Dick." She saw
Roger shake his head. "I'm serious," she went on. "As long as I'm smoking,
I'll never again go out with a non-smoker." She paused for effect. "I'd look
for a guy like you, Roger."

    Roger leaned to crush his cigarette out in the ashtray. It was beside
Theresa on the desk. As he leaned, his face drew close to Theresa's. Sensing
the moment, he leaned a bit further and gently kissed her lips. She responded
by kissing back, softly at first and then harder, with passion.

    "Mmm," she gasped after several seconds, "I can taste the smoke in your
mouth."

    "Oh, I'm sorry" responded Roger.

    "Don't be stupid," Theresa replied, "I want someone who smokes more than I
do, so he can't give me any shit." She pulled him close and kissed him again.

    Roger's cock was rock-hard by this time. With their lips still joined,
Theresa slid off the chair and onto the bed beside Roger. They kissed
passionately for several minutes. Suddenly, he felt Theresa's fingers moving
slowly up his thigh, then resting around the bulge in his pants. In response,
Roger moved his hands onto Theresa's tits. For a moment, Roger thought he'd
lose it. He never expected to be passionately fondling Theresa Simpson on
their first date.

    Within minutes they were half-naked on his bed. Roger hadn't made love to
many girls, but Theresa seemed confident and competent. As things progressed,
Roger began to worry. "Theresa," he gasped in between kisses, "I'm sorry, but
I don't have a condom." It was an embarrassing admission, but Roger felt it
was necessary before things went further.

    Theresa grabbed his cock and pumped it with her hands. "Relax, Roger," she
purred, "I'm on the pill." She began moving it toward her pussy. "And I know
_you_ haven't exactly been sleeping around on campus. Don't worry, I've done
my homework on you." She inserted his cock into the exterior of her pussy.
"So, I'm not worried, if you're not."

    Roger could hardly speak. "God, no," he moaned, "I'm not worried." Of
course that wasn't completely true. He was a little concerned. But hell, he
didn't want to stop now.

    "Good," Theresa whispered back. "Then just fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard."

    They made love passionately. Roger couldn't believe his good fortune. He
was fucking one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever met, who only moments
before had smoked a cigarette with him, and who told him he was the kind of
guy she'd been looking for.

    After they finished, they rested together on the bed. Theresa nuzzled
against Roger's shoulder. "Roger," she said sweetly, "can we do one more
thing? Something I've never done?"

    "What is it?" Roger asked. He was completely spent. He couldn't believe
this woman was ready for more.

    "I've never smoked a cigarette after making love with someone," she said.
"Can we have a cigarette together?"

    Roger smiled. Neither had he. "Oh, that," he answered. "Sure. I'd love to
have another cigarette, you little fox." He reached over to the desk, picked
up the cigarettes, his lighter and the ashtray. He set them on the floor
beside the bed. He put a cigarette in Theresa's mouth.

    "Thank you, Roger," she sighed as he lit it for her. He put a second
cigarette between his own lips, but Theresa placed her hand on his, stopping
him from lighting it. "No, let me." She took the lighter, flicked it, and lit
his cigarette. The smoke felt good. He put his arm around Theresa as she took
a big drag.

    "Roger," she continued, "I really like you. I'm not looking for a
one-night stand. I'm looking for a relationship. How about you?"

    "Theresa," Roger answered honestly, "that's exactly what I'm looking for.
A friend and a lover. I really like you, too."

    "Good," she replied, taking another drag. She leaned over to tap some
ashes into the ashtray. "I like where this is heading." She exhaled a long
plume of smoke toward the ceiling. Roger watched the smoke escape from her
mouth out of the corner of his eye.

    Theresa sighed. So did Roger. This was all he ever wanted.


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