Dr. Blacklung, I Presume?, Part 16

Dr. Blacklung, I Presume
By:  slimv

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Chapter 16:  Ray's Cigar Store
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Amanda Benson steered into the strip mall and pulled up in front of Ray's
Cigar Store.  She remembered when it had opened four years earlier.  She had
thought of it as an eyesore in the community- a den of iniquity.  And now she
was sitting in their parking lot, looking out her window.  She would no
sooner be seen here than at the liquor store.  Women of her breed had no
business here.  But the memory of Jim's erection haunted her.  If he liked
women that smoked then she would become that woman for him.  She was
desperate to bring passion back to their bed.  Seeing those women smoke had
been like Viagra to him.  The explanation was beyond her but the results were
clear.

Jim didn't know she was here.  This would be the last place he'd expect to
find her.  It was the last place she expected to find her self but she was
here.  She scanned the parking lot for familiar cars.  She cringed at the
thought of someone from her Bible study group seeing her here.  There was a
hair salon place next door.  If she saw someone she knew, she could duck
inside, but everyone who knew her knew she had her hair done at Lagrie's.
But people change- don't they?  And it wasn't as if she would be the talk of
the town for having her hair done at Great Clips.  She'd just tell them she
was trying to save a little money.

The smoke shop's glass was tinted.  Amanda had no idea of who could be
inside.  She realized her paranoia was foolish.  Even if there were customers
inside, the chance of them being familiar with her was minimal.  After all
she didn't run with the smoker's crowd.  She would be a stranger to them.

Getting from her car to the door without being seen was only her first
problem.  What would she say?  What would she d o when she got inside?  She
knew nothing about cigars.  The only thing she knew was that they weren't
like cigarettes, because people could smoke them without getting addicted.
She was intimidated by her ignorance. Should she tell the clerk she's buying
them for her husband and ask for suggestions?  What if the guy behind the
counter suspected they were for her?  She'd turn and run.  That's what she
would do.

Her car was still idling.  The thought of running out of gas and having to
call Jim terrified her.  She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves as
she turned off the ignition.  She scanned the building and the parking lot
for the next five minutes.  No one had entered or left any of the shops.  The
only sign of life belonged to a pigeon that fluttered over a crust of bread
on the sidewalk.

She placed her hand on the car door's handle.  The chrome felt cool to her
touch.  She pushed it and door opened to the parking lot.  The sound of her
sandals scraped against th e asphalt as she stepped out and closed the door
gently, attempting to make as little noise as possible.  The thought of
making noise in the parking lot amused her slightly but did little to ease
her fears.  She considered locking it behind her but thought better of it as
she might require a quick getaway.  For God's sake, she thought.  Get a grip.
You're buying a silly cigar- not robbing a bank.  The parking lot disappeared
under her feet as the door to Ray's Cigar Shop approached.  She read the
words on the glass door as she pushed it open with her right hand.  Ray's
Cigar Store.  M-F 7 to 6.  

An unseen bell on the back of the door announced her presence to a seemingly
empty display room.  Her senses were greeted with a strong but somewhat
pleasant aroma of tobacco.  The place looked more like a sitting room than a
store.  The floors were made of hardwoods covered by a large and cozy throw
rug.  The walls were lined with leather couches and chairs.  Paintings of men
wea ring red jackets rode horses through tree lined hills as they followed
barking dogs.  She liked the place.  The sights and the smells put her at
ease.

Her eyes caught a figure as it emerged from a door behind the glass sales
counter.

The pleasant face of flannel wearing man said good afternoon, asking if he
could be of assistance.  The badge on his red and black flannel introduced
him as Ray, the owner of the store.  His smile and the fact she didn't know
him from Adam relaxed her somewhat.

"I don't know," said Amanda.  "I've never been here before so I guess I'm
just browsing.  My husband smokes cigars and his birthday is coming up and I
thought I might get him some as a gift."

"That's an excellent idea," said Ray.  His voice was deep and reassuring.
"What brand does your husband smoke?"

Amanda winced as she determined the transparency of her ignorance.  "They're
brown and about this long," she said as she drew the length of her husband's
imaginary cigar with her fing ers.

Ray nodded knowingly.  "We have a lot of cigars like that.  You've come to
the right place."

Her shoulders relaxed.  Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as she had built
it up to be.  "Great," she said.  "I'll take a box.  How much do I owe you?"

She was answered by a deep but gentle laugh.  "Not so fast," said Ray.  "Do
you want to tell me what this is all about?  I think I know, but I'd like to
hear it from you."

Amanda gripped her hand bag as the pain in her heart rushed to her throat.
The gig was up.  She'd been caught.  It was a stupid idea in the first place
and she needed to cut her losses and exit as gracefully as possible.  "On
second thought, I think he'd really like a PDA.  He's been saying something
about that for quite a while now.  I'm sorry for taking up your time," she
said as she turned and faced the door, which seemed almost a mile away.

"Montecristo- A!" said Ray to her back.  "Nine and a half inches."

Amanda stopped and stood her ground.  She rolled her eyes and dug her nails
into the leather handles of her purse.  She'd come this far.  Her fear was
great, but if she left now she'd never forgive her self.  She took a deep
breath and composed her self as she slowly turned around to face Ray.

"Why Montecristo," asked Amanda?  

"Because 9 1/2 inches of my hand rolled tobacco would look absolutely
exquisite between your fingers.  The aroma of the smoke as it basked in your
mouth would make any man, including myself weak in the knees."

Amanda blushed.  All her instincts screamed at her to turn and run but her
eyes and her mind were fixed on this man whom she now considered as charming.

"How did you know the cigars were for me," she asked?

"I didn't," said Ray.  "It was only a wish."  He beckoned her forward with
one hand as he reached inside the glass counter that served as a display
case.  "I want you to try one- on me of course."

Her hips swiveled toward the door making her purse slap against her hip.  She
tri ed to leave but was powerless to do so.  There was something in Ray's
eyes that told her every thing would be all right.  She stepped up to the
counter and stared at the brown beast in Ray's hand.

The label on the cigar read "Montecristo A".  It looked dangerous but
alluring.

"Go ahead and hold it," said Ray.  "You'll love the way it feels in your hand
and your husband will melt when he sees you with it."

The pace of her heart quickened as her fingers closed on the Montecristo.
She turned her wrist and admired its length and color from several angles.
It felt firm but was lighter in weight than she had expected."

"Lift it to your nose and inhale its scent," said Ray.  "A fine cigar is
judged both by the fragrance of it's cured leaves and the richness of it's
smoke."

Amanda held it beneath her nostrils and sniffed.  Again it was not as she
expected.  She thought it would smell harsh but the odor of the leaves was
inviting and she sniffed again before handing it back to Ray.

As the cigar exchanged hands, Ray stroked her finger in a way that could not
be construed as either accidental or intentional.  "There's an art to
lighting one of these," he said as he took a lighter from his pocket.  "You
have to pull hard and in succession until you're sure it's lit."

Amanda watched, listened and smelled as Ray pumped his cheeks breathing life
into the Montecristo.  Her head cocked sideways as she saw a ball of thick
gray smoke disappear toward the back of Ray's mouth only to reappear as a
colossal cone shaped cloud.  He did it so easily and she wondered how she
would fare.  She didn't have to wait long.

A wave of satisfaction settled over Ray as he handed off the 9 1/2 inch baton
of pleasure to Amanda who took it out of curiosity.  He took a step back and
admired the sight of this gorgeous middle-aged lady holding the long cigar.

A wet warm feeling sprung from her groin as she studied the smoldering beast
held loosely between her long dainty fin gers.  For reasons she couldn't
comprehend, the rich brown color of the cigar accentuated her red nail
polish.  She felt devilish to the point of being sexy.

She looked at Ray and noticed a change had come over him.  He'd been polite
before.  He was a gentleman now, but there was a look in his eyes that wasn't
there before.  He had the look of desire.  It was a look she had once
cherished and had almost forgotten.

The movement of her reflection in the mirror startled her.  That was she in
the mirror holding the cigar.  She lifted the beast and crooked her elbow,
striking a pose.  Ray shuffled behind the counter, the look of desire in his
face growing stronger.

"I've never done this before.  Smoked I mean.  Is it hard?"

"It takes a little getting used to," said Ray.  "But in the end, it's worth
it."

"I won't get addicted will I," asked Amanda.  "These aren't like cigarettes
right?  Because I heard people smoke them but they don't get hooked."

"That depends," said Ray, " On whether you inhale the smoke like I do.  But I
wouldn't think of it as addiction.  Addiction is such a harsh word when
you're speaking of something as pleasurable as tobacco.  Try a puff and see
for your self.  Make it small and when you feel the flavor of the smoke
against your tongue I want you to breath in, but just a little and not to
deep."

Amanda, still tilting the Montecristo, flashed her eyes and asked if he
didn't find the sight of her holding a cigar rogue and manly.

"Not at all," said Ray.  "On the contrary.  I'm sure you can tell I haven't
been able to look away from you since you took the cigar from my hand.  You
make the cigar look beautiful.  May I ask what your name is?"

"I'm Amanda and I'm married.  Your name is Ray.  Am I right?"  The scent of
the smoke as it curled from the tip of the cigar toyed with her mind and
sparked her own desires.

"I'm married too, yet here we are.  I take it you feel it too and its not
just me.  In case you're wondering, I don't get chummy with every customer
that walks through my door.  You're different.  I can't put my finger on it
but you are.  It's not that I don't have a lot of women customers, but
they're smokers.  I can tell the moment they walk through the door, but
you're not, at least not yet.  Maybe that's the turn-on."

"The turn-on," asked Amanda?  "It turns you on seeing me hold this cigar?"

"You know it does," said Ray.  "Or why else would you be here.  You want to
take up smoking for your husband.  Am I right?  You think he'll find you
irresistible once he sees what a vixen you've become.  But you're afraid
you'll do it wrong and that's why you're still standing here, contemplating
whether or not to take your first puff."

Amanda turned the smoldering Montecristo between her fingers as she
considered Ray's words.  "You're right," she said.  "I am afraid.  I want to
do this but I want to do it right.  Can you help me?  Can you teach me how to
smoke for my husband?"

Ray walked around the counter, passed Amanda and turned around the sign on
the door.  He turned the dead bolt until it clicked, locking them inside and
the world outside.  "I can help you," he said.

He took her hand and led her around the counter and through the door that he
had appeared from when she first entered the store.  The alarms should have
sounded in her head when she caught sight of the bed, but somehow she
expected it.  What she didn't expect was how right it felt as Ray stood in
front of her unbuttoning her blouse.

He took the Montecristo from her hand and allowed her to remove the blouse as
it dropped to the floor followed by her skirt.  She should have felt shame
but there was only desire as he unhooked her bra.  All that remained was her
panties but with a pull of her hands and a twist of her hips they fell to her
ankles.  She kicked them to the top of the heap that contained both their
clothes.

She followed him to the bed and he spoke to her with a gentle kiss as he
explored her breasts with his hands.  It was the first time she'd ever kissed
a smoker and she was surprised to find she liked it.  She kissed him back and
took the Montecristo from his hand.

"Take a puff and blow the smoke in my face," said Ray.  "Don't inhale just
yet.  There will be time for that later."

She sensed his arousal as she lifted the Montecristo to her lips.  The smoke
felt warm and rich against her tongue.  She remembered his words about not
inhaling but the memory of seeing him inhale behind the counter tantalized
her and she couldn't resist.  She followed his earlier instructions and
breathed in gently and not so deep.  The feeling was immediate and she was
thankful that she had taken just a small puff.  The back of her neck tingled
from the introduction of nicotine into her system.  The moistness between her
legs increased as she breathed out. 

The sight of the smoke exiting her body and hitting Ray's face excited both
of them.  He kissed her immediatel y and relished the flavor of Montecristo
on her breath.  He asked her to take another puff, which she did willingly,
inhaling a little deeper this time.  The affect was the same, the tingling in
her neck, and the moistness in her vagina.

They continued to share the cigar in silence as they bathed each other's
faces with their exhales.  For the first time in her life Amanda felt
sexually powerful and she credited the cigar.  All those years of wondering
why smokers smoke became answers rather than questions.  Each subsequent puff
became easier on her lungs.  She had no idea of what was happening behind the
scenes.  She only knew that she felt wonderful.  But Ray knew.  It wasn't
difficult for him to imagine her pink church going lungs absorbing the
Montecristo's smoke.  What surprised him was the relative ease in which she
was doing it.  Less than an hour ago this gorgeous woman beside him had never
been closer than three feet to a burning cigarette and now she was saturatin
g her lungs with nicotine and tar laden cigar smoke.  The cilia in her lungs
must be crying for her to stop but how could she?  The look on her face told
him that tobacco would soon become an integral part of her life.

Without speaking, he pushed her gently down against the pillows and spread
her legs with her hands.  "Keep the cigar in your mouth and try to relax and
smoke it at the same time," he said.  "I have a feeling you're going to love
this."

The church girl smiled at him curiously and returned the cigar to her lips as
he mounted her.

She groaned and bit down on the cigar as Ray penetrated her.  It had been so
long since she'd felt something as firm as him between her legs.  He was
large and her vagina struggled to accept him an inch at a time.  When he was
all the way inside he told her to start puffing and inhaling.  "Make sure you
inhale before you come and hold it," he said.  "Hold the smoke in your lungs
as long as you can.  Try to hold your breath."

He pump ed and she puffed.  The feeling was immense.  It began in her
clitoris and rose to her chest.  It felt so good that it hurt and she
wondered how much she could take before her juices erupted in orgasm.  What
would Jim and Kenny think if they were here to see her smoking like a woman?
A part of her knew they'd be angry and disgusted but a darker part of her
hoped they would be happy for her.

Ray was not a sadist but something about this cigar chomping church lady was
driving his desires to levels he'd never known possible.  He slammed his hips
against her and pushed deeper and deeper.  She took every thing he gave her
giving him her smoke in return.

The expression on her face changed, becoming more intense.  She was almost
there and he sped up his movement to catch up with her.  "Keep it in your
lungs," he groaned.  "Inhale and hold your breath."

Amanda's eyes opened wide.  She wanted to scream but did as he said.  She
pulled hard on the Montecristo.  It had become notice ably shorter during
their session and the heat from its tip felt hot against her face.  The smoke
stung her eyes, but still she pulled hard.  She loosened her teeth's grip on
the cigar and allowed the smoke to filter down her throat deep into her
waiting lungs.  The orgasm began in her clitoris and covered her like a tidal
wave.  The smoke was stuck in her lungs for what seemed an eternity.  The
lights in her head went out.  What ever was happening had taken her with it.
She succumbed to the pleasure and fell limp against the sheet, the cigar
falling from her lips, landing beside her in the bed.  She was paralyzed with
joy, unable to pick it up.  

Ray let it smolder beside her as he finished what he started.  He flowed like
a river inside her not caring about the burned mattress.

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