Eileen's Story (rewrite)

From kbeacon@ix.netcom.com Thu Oct 17 00:09 EDT 1996
Date: Wed, 16 Oct 1996 21:08:10 -0700
From: kbeacon@ix.netcom.com (Kathleen Beacon )
Subject: A request for an addition to your postings.

Hi there Mr. Ish,

    I just posted a rewrite of "Eileen's Way" called "Eileen's Way, a rewrite 
my way" by Kathleen Beacon. After rereading it, I realized that there was some 
room for minor, though necessary, improvements (spelling, reduction of repeated 
words, better impact for some sentences, etc.). Would you mind, if you decide 
to include it in your compendium, posting this, later and improved version? I 
include it below. I hope the spaces, due to margin differences, are taken care 
of since the paragraph breaks add impact to the story. Thank you:

Eileen's Way was originally written by "anonymous" and so, this rewrite is 
based to a large extent on the original.
	Its rewriter speaks, "I decided to change the protagonist's
personality in the rewrite, giving him a more active role, to be more
aggressive and militant in his desire to convert his innocent, young
sweetheart into a hard core smoker. I cleaned up the grammar (eliminating
lots of the passive verbiage rampantly found in the original), and hope you
readers out there enjoy the transformation."

Eileen's Way, rewritten my way
				    by
					Kathleen Beacon



I first noticed Eileen in two English classes we shared. I was attracted by her
thin figure and enticing smile but felt that her most striking feature was her
long, sandy-brown hair which hung down teasingly below her waist. After a few
weeks of polite greetings, I finally had the opportunity for some conversation
with her. It became apparent that we shared many interests and enjoyed each
others company. Though our interaction was respectfully at arms length, I was
captivated by Eileen, and sensed that she shared my inclination. Nevertheless I
took it slow and just let things happen despite knowing that each day I was
becoming more and more interested in her.

After a few weeks, Eileen felt comfortable enough with me to confide certain
feelings and difficulties she was experiencing. I took this new closeness as a
positive sign of our budding friendship. Eileen explained to me that she lived
at home with her mother, father, and a younger sister, and that although there
were no serious problems, life with the family was a strain on her. Despite her
devotion to her family, often stating, "nothing comes before them," her
parents, particularly her mother, were a bit oppressive and overprotective. She
felt that as a 21 year old woman, they were inappropriately restricting for
her, both academically and socially. I initially took this to be a simple case
of a young person in need of their own space, but Eileen then went on to say
that her mother and father each suffered from a variety of physical ailments
and that because of this, she had much more than her share of responsibility
around the house. She even selected this college, as opposed to one she'd
rather attend, to live close to home. I tried to be supportive in my response,
saying that it took a very strong and special person to make these sacrifices
and that it was therefore virtuous to be able to take care of her family as she
had. She felt comforted by my positive depictions, but I could tell that she
would soon approach the end of her rope given her present living conditions.

Later that day, after one of our classes, I asked Eileen to join me for some
lunch at the student center. After we grabbed some food, I instinctively headed
for the smoking section. Over the past weeks as our friendship grew, I wondered
if Eileen was a smoker, but as all of our time together up to this point was
spent in classrooms, I never had an opportunity to probe the subject, nor
expose myself as a smoker to her.

Suddenly, Eileen said in an alarmed tone, "Wait a second. We are heading into
the smoking area." Instantly I thought that this would be the first chance to
explore Eileen's feelings about smoking and to finally reveal that I smoked. I
wondered, particularly from the tone of her question, what her reaction to my
smoking would be, if it would be a hindrance to a more intimate relationship. I
feared that she may be, after all, one of those self righteous anti-smoking
types.

Answering her exclamation with a question, "Oh, I thought you smoke..... don't
you?"

Eileen retorted with a sharp, emphatic "NO!!..... do you?"

Feeling defensive, I responded, "Oh, yes, sometimes, I mean....not that
much....but if you don't, let's sit in the non-smoking area."

With that, we found a small table, ate our lunch, talked about school, current
events, and other subjects.

Though her attitude about smoking disturbed me, as all non-smokers attitudes
tend to, I decided to forget it this time, considering the need to develop my
friendship more important for the moment. I've always thought that these
vehement anti-smoking attitudes were born of inexperience and theorized that if
more non-smokers would give smoking a chance for themselves they'd eventually
understand or even, hopefully, embrace it. At least they'd learn to tolerate
others who chose a different point of view. I always wanted to put this theory
of mine to the test but up to now never really had the opportunity.

After a short time, the conversation thankfully reverted back to Eileen's
family and her home life. Although it was Friday, she stated that she wasn't
looking forward to the weekend because she had lots of school work, as well as
a full schedule of family chores. Offering some relief, I asked Eileen if she
would like to have dinner with me that evening. Her faced brightened with the
invitation, "I was wondering when you were going to break down and ask me for a
date." Funny, the way she phrased that last statement, it was I who pondered
the break down of her anti-smoking barriers; dating was peanuts compared to the
task before me. I responded that things between us were developing so nicely
and that I was enjoying it. Secretly I resolved to just let things happen and,
if the opportunity presents itself, perhaps put a rest to my unresolved
questions about smoking, finally.

Smiling for the first time, Eileen thanked me for letting her cry on my
shoulder, as we made plans for that evening. I would pick her up at her house,
meet her family, and we would set off for dinner, drinks, and "whatever".

As we were walking out of the student center, Eileen said rather abruptly, "So,
your a smoker, are you?" I was glad that she brought up the subject again.
Throughout our conversation I had a brief urge or two for a cigarette, but I
controlled myself, apprehensively concerned with how I'd ever be able to test
out my theory and broach the topic again. Seeing her question as an opening, I
decided to answer her carefully. "Yes, Eileen, I smoke. Not that much, but I do
smoke. I find it to be very pleasurable and I'm sure that it won't be a problem
for you."

Eileen sighed slightly, looked aside, and confessed, "I really don't like
smoking, actually I hate it." She continued, saying that she had never even
dated a smoker, "but because we've been sitting here for 2 hours and you didn't
smoke, I guess that I can deal with it on occasion as long as it's not
constant."

Relived that this first stage passed by so easily, I decided to take advantage
of it and explore the subject in more depth asking Eileen if she had any
friends or family that smoked.

"Some of my friends smoke, but not much around me. As for my family," she
offered, "nobody in my house smokes, my mother wouldn't let a smoker even enter
our house, although I do have a married older sister who lives out of state and
she and her husband smoke." Eileen said that when the family gets together with
her older sister and her husband, the issue of smoking is ignored as they kept
their smoking away from the family. Mollified that at least someone close to
her smoked, and that the concept wasn't too far from base, I pushed forward
asking Eileen if she had ever smoked or had ever tried a cigarette. She replied
that she, "tried it a couple of times while out drinking with my girlfriends,
and it tasted horrible." She said she never inhaled, and didn't have any
interest in smoking and never wanted to, and wondered how anyone would smoke,
considering its affects on their health. She concluded by asking that I promise
to not only never smoke in front of her family, but to not even allow them to
know that I was a smoker. I reluctantly agreed but immediately began thinking
of a way to cure this impasse.

Of course, by now, all this talk of smoking had me ready for a cigarette. I
stopped and said "Speaking of smoking...." and took my pack of Benson & Hedges
Menthol Light 100's and lighter from my jacket pocket. I figured this was as
good a time as any for Eileen to see me smoke a cigarette. I resolved to make
it as enticing as possible by exaggerating the pleasure I'd derive from it.
Pulling a cigarette from the pack, I lit up and very consciously took a long,
leisurely drag. Eileen shook her head wearing a sarcastic smile as she watched
me light up. I opened my mouth just slightly to expose the ball of thick, white
smoke in my mouth, then casually inhaled. I noticed that Eileen continued
observing these theatrics of mine, but her expression turned into a curious
fascination. The look on her face left me amazed that her life could have been
so insulated, not ever having any friends who indulge. I very deliberately
turned my head to the side, giving her a profile view as I blew out the smoke
through a combination of casual and leisurely mouth and nasal exhales. Eileen
was still focused on me, and continued again with that half-fake little smile
as I completed my exhale. As we walked further across campus toward our
respective classes, I smoked the rest of my B&H Light self-consciously, but
most of all leisurely and luxuriously. All the while I was aware that Eileen
was pausing her speech and slowing her walk to watch me with each drag, each
inhale, and each exhale of that cigarette.

I guess I put on a real good show for her, intent as I was in having her
observe the pleasure cigarettes gave me. I wanted her to accept my smoking and
not make an issue of it as I anticipated our friendship to develop. I was sure
that any continued anti-smoking attitude would kill off our chances if not
dealt with. What also gave me hope was this strange attention she gave me when
I smoked. I started wondering about the severity and sincerity of her
anti-smoking posture hoping that I wasn't suffering from thoughts merely born
from unconscious wish fulfillment.

That evening, I drove to Eileen's house. She lived in an average middle class
neighborhood, and her house was typical for the area. Introduced to her family
as her "friend from school," I tried, in the short time I was in her house, to
observe for myself some of the situations that Eileen had told me about earlier
that day. I only noticed that both her mother and father were middle-aged,
cordial and polite. Her mother spoke often even inquiring about where we were
going for dinner. After telling her, Eileen's mom commented that "it's nice
Eileen is getting a little break," and that the family didn't eat out much as
it was difficult due to her severe arthritis.

As we were leaving, I could see what life was like for Eileen, not bad, but she
had more responsibility than most college students, having the added burden of
helping out with her folks and her younger sister. I was sure that this
increased responsibility was stressful for Eileen and took hidden delight in
realizing that this situation provided a conducive framework for encouraging a
new way to deal with this tension, relief found with a well born smoking habit.
I was gathering information with the hope that my plans for Eileen would
prevail.

Eileen and I proceeded to the restaurant, had a great dinner, and went over to
the bar for a few drinks. I had not smoked during dinner, so naturally, I lit
up a cigarette as we settled down around a small table in the corner of the
bar. Eileen didn't even flinch this time but once again I noticed her paying
attention to the details of my smoking.

After awhile, we left the restaurant and I proceeded to drive towards Eileen's
neighborhood. "Where are we going?" she asked. "I guess back to your house," I
answered. "Oh no, let's not go there right yet," she replied, and then led me
to a small parking lot close to her house. We sat in the car and talked for a
while. I asked if she would mind if I smoked a cigarette. She answered, "is
that all you want to put in your mouth right now?" Laughing, I responded, "no,
not really," and explained that I was a little nervous as I had not been
intimate with a girl for over a year, and a cigarette would relax me and
actually add to my feeling. Incredulous, Eileen asked how smoking would do
that. I purposely teased her, "unless you're a smoker, you couldn't
understand." I went on to explain, as I lit up, that ever since I was a young
teenager, I had often associated smoking with feelings of sexual arousal. She
asked me to explain. Knowing the power of suggestion I decided to answer her
with as much pro-smoking slant as I could muster up. I told her that I became
interested in trying smoking around the time that I experienced my first sexual
sensations, around the age of 12 or 13. At that age, I was far more comfortable
with trying things that were sexual than I was about trying smoking. I was
taught that it was normal and OK to feel the way I was feeling about girls but
that it was bad and wrong to smoke.

Eileen playfully asked me when was the first time I kissed a girl. "I think I
was 12," I answered, as I inhaled a deep puff from my B&H Menthol Light. "When
was the first time you made love to a girl?" she next asked. "I was 16," I
said, exhaling while closing my eyes, painting a deeply satisfied expression.
"How old were you when you tried smoking?" Taking one last long puff from my
B&H, I explained to Eileen that one day, when I was 14, my next door neighbor
Karen (an 18 year old beauty who I secretly admired and desired) asked me to
help her move a piece of furniture in her house. After helping out, she offered
me her thanks and a soda. As we sat in the kitchen talking about getting ready
to go to new schools, college for her and high school for me, she reached into
her pocketbook and pulled out a pack of Salem 100s. I went on, "I was already
excited about being alone with this 'older woman', but I went through the roof
when she lit up that cigarette."

Eileen looked astonished, "I don't understand." I explained how the long, white
cigarette made Karen appear more elegant and sexual to me, and that watching
her inhale and exhale the smoke with such enjoyment made me lose it. I also
explained to Eileen how I realized that at that moment I had a perfect
opportunity to try smoking. I prodded Karen saying, "Oh Karen, I didn't know
that you smoked."

She nonchalantly said "oh sure, do you?"

Gathering up my courage I feigned ambivalence, "no, not yet....I'm afraid to
try it because it's not good for you."

Looking surprised, Karen said "Besides my small occasional cough, I don't think
it's been bad for me at all, not one bit. On the contrary, I think smoking is a
wonderful habit to have. And besides, even if it's 'bad' like you've been told,
it would take years of smoking, and you haven't even begun yet. OK, since
you'll start anyway how about if I teach you to smoke now, but you have to
decide for yourself to continue and when you see what I mean and decide yes,
don't tell your folks that I showed you how. Your parents don't smoke and won't
understand."

I thought it over for a few seconds and decided that she was right, it wouldn't
hurt to try it.

Karen showed me how to puff on the cigarette, hold it and inhale. I explained
to Eileen that even though my first inhale was small, I didn't cough, and,
surprisingly, I actually felt turned on when I saw that first small stream of
smoke come out of my mouth.

I concluded the story of my first cigarette by telling Eileen how, from that
day on, I continued to occasionally smoke with Karen. I related that as a
closet smoker for the next 2 years, I had fought a battle with myself over its
pros and cons, but Karen's sexual provocations and encouragement were too good
to resist.

By age 16, I decided to become a regular smoker, and began to do so openly, at
home, in public, in front of my friends, eventually summoning the courage to
tell my parents, both non- smokers. Eileen listened intently to my story and
stated that she had never heard someone "take an activity like starting to
smoke," something she had always classified as "wrong", and turn it into such a
"sexually driven, coming-of-age story." She followed that up by stating that my
story gave her an understanding, for the first time, of why a young person
might try smoking. Of course this was my purpose.

Just about then, Eileen and I each embraced in our first kiss. As we pulled
away, Eileen said, "that was nice", and that my kiss had "a warm and minty"
taste. "Benson & Hedges Menthol Lights," I replied. "It leaves your kisses
minty smooth," sounding a bit like an advertisement.

We continued along this passionate way for awhile, progressively exploring each
other's bodies with our hands as our long, passionate kisses lasted for what
seemed an eternity. I knew that this was all moving in the right direction,
but, as we came up for air, I said to Eileen that I didn't want to go any
further in the front seat of my car.

"Let's make a deal. It's getting late, so I'll take you home now, and tomorrow
night we'll meet for dinner and drinks all over again, and we'll go to a hotel
and spend our first night in a safe, secure, private and comfortable place."

Eileen said that sounded great, but she would need to come up with some kind of
story to tell her parents so that she could get out of the house for the night.
We agreed, at my suggestion, to meet in a nice out-of-town hotel. I took her
home and kissed her goodnight.

The next night, Eileen and I met as planned. Following another great dinner, we
stayed on at our table in the hotel restaurant ordering some after-dinner
drinks. During the entire time in the restaurant, I had smoked only 2
cigarettes, but as Eileen and I continued on to cocktails, I fell into my more
normal smoking routine. As was the case yesterday, though this time Eileen said
nothing about my smoking, I noticed once again that studied expression on her
face while I was smoking. I pondered what could be going on in her mind as she
did this, and actually enjoyed the attention, but kept it to myself so as not
to rock the boat.

It was time to go up to our room to pick up where we left off the previous
night. Once in the room and after another drink and conversation, each of us
began disrobing the other, then a back massage for Eileen followed by one for
me. Soon, we were probing each other's unclothed bodies and kissing
passionately. The love-making that followed was long and intense. As we each
recovered from our first session together, Eileen and I began to laugh like two
kids finding joy in simple things. We had become good friends pleasuring each
other so fully. As we continued our frolic, Eileen complained mildly about what
she had to go through to convince her parents that she was going somewhere that
they'd approve.

Telling her to not think about that now and trying to get her to relax, I got
up from bed and asked her if she would like another drink. "Yes," she answered,
asking "what is there to drink?" I went to my overnight bag and pulled out a
small cooler which I had prepared earlier in the day. I pulled out two small
bottles of champagne and two glasses. "You think of everything, don't you?"
Eileen said with a soft smile. Little did she see the truth in her statement.
As we sat on the side of the bed sipping, I reached over to the dresser for my
pack of cigarettes. Taking one from the pack, I noticed that Eileen focused
intently on me again as I raised my lighter and brought an even glow to my B&H.
I slipped comfortably into my self indulgence and took a deep drag, enjoying my
after-sex cigarette, the first one in some time.

Out of nowhere, and far earlier than anticipated, Eileen whispered "Hey, let me
have a puff of that...."

I was totally shocked! Coolly, containing my excitement, I looked at her,
smiled, and said, "you're joking, right? You want an after-sex puff?" I could
have just lit one and gave it to her, but, instead I decided to take a risk by
baiting her, "I thought you hated smoking and never had any interest in it."

After a silly laugh, she answered, "I do hate it, can't you tell?" Another
squeaky laugh. "I don't know...hey, listen... look, all this talk about
smoking, you getting turned on by it, and me, well, actually I think I'm a bit
tipsy, but, to go on, me, like, how can I hate it THAT much? I mean, like,
really! I don't even know what smoking is! I think sometimes any bad feelings I
have about anything, well, it's just my parents talking or something, I really
don't know. Actually, I think I'm confused. Look, just shut up and give me a
puff, ok?! And, besides, I don't think one puff is gonna hurt me or anything,
so what's your problem?"

After that explanation, who was I to say no? "Of course you can, I was just
taken off guard a little I guess," my voice laying bare the fact that I was
totally amused and amazed by this spectacle. I too was laughing, but inside and
for my own private joy. To think that I was actually caught by surprise by her
out-of-the-blue demand. I thought she'd take a long time to get to this point,
and, to be honest, I wasn't sure that she ever would, but I should learn to
trust my instincts about people, about Eileen.

I handed her my cigarette. As she took it between her slender fingers, I shyly
pulled the sheets over my waist in an attempt to conceal my excitement. I
didn't want anything to interrupt the voyeuristic delight I was about to
experience; silence was meant to be golden for this precise situation.

As I soaked in the glowing moment, seeing her take her first drag in front of
me, I soon realized that, after all, she was new at this. Her puff was barely
perceptible, dainty, and, worst of all, quite awkward. She'd need a lot more
practice and, figuring that the ice was broken, I knew it would be easy to
encourage her to do it right.

After returning my cigarette I said, "Well, I have to admit, that was brave of
you, given the way you were brought up to think that cigarettes are bad or
worse. But, Eileen, I gotta say, if that was your attempt at experiencing an
'after-sex cigarette', well, the experience was totally lost on you, you are so
obviously a beginner."

"Oh yea!?" she did sound a bit tipsy actually.

"Eileen, you are a non-smoker and as a non-smoker you'll unhappily never really
get to experience any of that deep kind of smoking satisfaction us smokers
know." My plan called for far more than a few puffs so I expected my statement
to pique her curiosity more. As predicted she fell for the bait. Once more I
handed her my cigarette. As she took it between her fingers, I added, "you'd
enjoy them a lot more with champagne." Eileen agreed, "Really? Well, you're the
expert on that." And, squinting her eyes, "You're not trying something funny or
something here are you?"

Amused at her tone of voice, I mocked, "Who me???"

Very slowly she put the cigarette between her lips again. For the first time I
began to clearly fantasize about Eileen smoking, really smoking, and about how
I'd encourage her in every way possible, even if it meant taking her all the
way to addiction. I admit, I was selfish in my desires, but it was impossible
to let these compulsive thoughts go away. They left me even more excited than I
had been in my moment of glory just a minute ago.

Pulling the long, white menthol light away from her mouth, she blew out a small
cloud of uninhaled smoke, smiled, looked at me and said, "maybe it's because
these are menthol, but that minty taste is not so bad." I answered, "Actually,
the taste gets a lot better the more you smoke." Can you guess why I said that?

"Hmmm," she said thoughtfully. Raising her two fingers to her mouth and putting
the cigarette between her lips the third time this evening, she took a little
more smoke into her mouth than she had seconds before. She leaned her head
backward, and blew out the smoke in a small cloud. Magnificent! I wouldn't let
myself show feelings I was barely able to keep from bursting inside for fear
that to do so would somehow end this wonderful moment. Magnificent! I
reflexively extended my hands towards her, as I have done in the past whenever
I stood dumbfounded, viewing inexplicably beautiful art-from-the-Gods in some
forlorn museum. And what did she do? WHAT DID SHE DO? (Unfortunately, at least
from her perspective, it was understandable.) She thought I was asking for a
return of my cigarette (!) and, so, she gave it back to me! Oh, for the love of
irony! 'Irony', now there's a devilish word, and the devil in it was laughing
mightily at that particular moment!

Ok, life wasn't over, she gave it back. Hey, it wasn't the end of the world. So
what else was left for me to do? Smoke of course! I took a long puff, inhaled
deeply, and, with design, leisurely blew out a series of a exhales from mouth
and nose. I considered that my style may rub off on her as she was obviously
trying to imitate me tonight. If so, I'd be sure to set a damn good example.
Now I wanted her to repeatedly and fully inhale. My smoking technique was
guaranteed to give her body a new pleasant sensation. And if she'd repeat this
pattern long enough, perhaps months, she'd be giving her body a new craving
sensation as well, the nicotine would be certain to do its job by then. I
needed her to get to this point if I was to prove my ideas about "non-smokers"
while selfishly satisfying my sexual needs.

As I kept up my smoking that night, Eileen said, "I certainly didn't do it like
that. Let me see if I can do it that way." Success was mine, this was
definitely easier than I thought! "OK, I'll show you," I replied. I took a
fresh cigarette from my pack, lit it, and began her first lesson, though I
don't think she looked at it that way at the time. I told Eileen that it's
necessary to inhale to smoke properly. That most people have a coughing
reaction the first time they inhale so I'd have to introduce the art of smoking
to her and to her innocent lungs slowly. I told her that I would take a puff
and exhale the smoke directly in front of her, and that she was to inhale my
smoke through her mouth as it hung in the air.

With our faces close together, she did as I instructed, no resistance, no
problem. I then told her to purse her lips and exhale. To her surprise, a
small, tiny, thin stream exited her mouth. We continued this exercise for the
first half of the cigarette, and Eileen didn't seem the worse for wear. I asked
her what she thought about it so far. She said she could hardly taste anything,
but that she could feel a warm, then cool feeling in her throat. Congratulating
her, I hinted that these good feelings are only mild compared to the ones she
could experience when she'd do it right. I asked her if she would like to try.
She said, "Sure, I haven't really done anything yet, certainly not like you
do." Teasing her, I insisted that she'd have to go one step at a time.

I told Eileen that I would take a puff, inhale, and hold the smoke in my lungs
for a few seconds. This would dilute the smoke somewhat as it would mix with
the air in my lungs. Then I would put my lips to hers and exhale my smoke
directly into her mouth. I told her not to inhale too deeply, but slowly open
her mouth and "swallow" the smoke. I took a small puff. As she inhaled my
smoke, I told her to wait a few seconds, and blow it out slowly. I knew she had
to keep the smoke in her body for awhile with each puff, this was the only way
to work this conversion. This she did, and upon completion, gazed at the stream
of smoke she had just exhaled, shyly asking me to repeat the process. We
finished the cigarette this way, as I studied her first attempts at inhaling
and exhaling, desperately trying to conceal my excitement as I watched her work
my smoke from between her beautiful lips. It would be much later that she'd
admit to me that these smoky kisses had aroused her as well.

As I crushed the finished cigarette out in the ash tray, I gently embraced
Eileen and kissed her slowly. I was turned on, sure, and I knew that this
positive reinforcement was laying the groundwork for future efforts. She
reached for me and in doing so, pulled away the sheet I was using to conceal my
inner feelings. Eileen took notice and mounted me as I sat on the edge of the
bed. As I began to slip down on my back, she stopped me and instructed me to
remain seated. Sensing what was to follow, I stiffened to a new level as Eileen
reached over to the dresser and gently picked up my pack of B&H's and my
lighter. Placing the ash tray next to our joined bodies, Eileen took the pack,
pulled out a cigarette, and placed it between her fingers. Oh, my head was
exploding as I watched her take that cigarette on her own and I let her know
it. But she countered, somewhat defensively, that she was just doing this for
me. Admittedly, though, she was surprised that her smoking was not the wretched
and unpleasant experience so thought of in the past. By now, of course, I
needed to ask her a question. I felt that I knew the answer anyway, but I
wanted to at least put in one appearance for my sense of fairness, to give her
a chance. I guess on some level I was dealing with my subtle feelings of guilt
as I began to realize that I may succeed in my designs.

"Are you sure you want to do this Eileen?" Her "yes," not surprising me, nor
her, "I've been watching you very carefully over the past few weeks, and the
pleasure that you get from smoking is so obvious... I can handle it. I'm just a
little curious, and once my curiosity is satisfied that'll be it. Don't worry
about me, ok? Besides, it wasn't that bad anyway." And just to be her playful
self, she added coyly, " I hope you don't mind." With that, she placed the
cigarette between her lips. I grabbed the lighter from her other hand and lit
her cigarette to make it as easy as possible for her. This was not a time for
awkwardness, not now.

Following my instructions from before, Eileen took a slow drag, pulled the long
white menthol light from her mouth, and as I would do myself, opened just
slightly, inhaling her first puff of cigarette smoke on her own. I
congratulated myself while feasting on this incredible sight.

Rocking ever so gently on my stiffness, she turned her head to the side, her
hair falling over my naked shoulder like thousands of tiny fingers, mixing with
my space, now belonging to her. Her profile was up against me and viewed
sneakingly, closely, in parcels, first her lips, the instrument of her
initiation, then her eyes, whispering to me for more, a cry I'll always be only
too happy to fulfill. She was looking downward to see for herself the stream of
smoke flowing from those moist lips, fascinated. As she exhaled her small but
florid puff, I immediately exploded inside her. Then she took a second puff,
inhaled, and again blew out her smoke slowly like before. I was witnessing this
birth yet felt that it was me floating from the womb, the ecstasy, thoroughly
intoxicating. As she went for her third puff, I could feel her body stiffen and
writhe in a way it had not in our earlier love making. It left her no choice
but to hold her smoky effulent inside, uncontrollably. I rejoiced, reaching a
mental zenith never imagined before, as I'd silently and diabolically extol the
incremental effect this was having on her body and her inner soul. I knew the
imperceptible and exquisitely subtle seduction of smoking, and, here, before
me, I was viewing it, the best seat in the house! As she exhaled this time, she
too exploded in an orgasmic down pouring, her warm feminine juices gently
falling onto my thighs. We remained in place like this for the next few
minutes, as Eileen used the entire cigarette eagerly. Her puffs remained
basically small and her inhales shallow, but her exhales were nonetheless
elegant. By the end of that one cigarette, I exploded a second time and she
three more times, I, holding mine until it was timed perfectly to the beat of
one of her inhales and she, lucky to be a woman, with more than three times the
pleasure. I'd do anything to encourage her to smoke as much as possible. I
needed for her to continue until it was too late for her to ever do otherwise,
and I knew that a truly solid foothold was still yet to be mine.

Completely exhausted, we rested for awhile until recovering enough strength to
make love once again, this time I held a cigarette, my breath assaulting into
her mouth again and again all the time hoping for the day when her initiation
would be solidified at last. As I went to light up again after we were
finished, I avoided offering a cigarette to Eileen, curious to see if she would
request one herself. She did not, but again studied me intently as I indulged.
Soon after, we fell asleep in each other's arms, to awaken the following
morning for another session of similar ecstasy.

Over the next few weeks, we spent most of the weekdays together at school, and
as much time on the weekends as we could. I wouldn't fail to get her to smoke
each and every opportunity that presented itself. I was disappointed, though,
that Eileen's schedule around her house kept her so busy and therefore away
from her smoky injections, but it kept our relationship intense in that we had
to make the most of our private moments together. During this time, as well as
the months to follow, Eileen would on occasion ask for or just simply take a
cigarette from me when we were alone. And she saw the delight in my eyes when
she'd do so. At this stage she'd smoke her own cigarette during these times
only, and her smoking style had only incrementally developed, although she
certainly knew when to take her cue and light up during our more naked
encounters. I made sure to fondle and kiss her even more than I would normally
when she would do so. I was pleased at her progress, nevertheless, designing
for her a plan whose direction was certain to lead one way.

As the school year drew to a close, Eileen and I realized that we had only the
summer months together before I would be off to school at a major university
many hours away. Eileen decided to stay on and complete the next two years at
the same small college where we had met, as this would afford her the
opportunity to stay close to her family. As the summer drew to a close, we
spent as much time together as we could. This led to a chain reaction of sorts
for Eileen. First, she was away from home more, and this had become a problem
as she didn't seem to know how to tell her folks that her life was a priority
to her and that they would have to get used to doing more of their own things
for themselves. This created severe stress for Eileen, and it seemed that just
talking about it made things worse for her. The only thing that seemed to relax
and relieve her was our intimacy. Since I would soon be leaving, Eileen sought
to satisfy me in the best way she knew how. Knowing that it drove me crazy,
she'd light a cigarette as a signal that she was in the mood. Her conditioning
had taken hold as she associated our sexual passions with her smoking.

Though I enjoyed the pleasures of watching her smoke, I was concerned with what
would happen to her smoking while I was away. Without my constant encouragement
would it diminish? Besides, I felt sorry for myself in leaving, as I knew that
very shortly I would have to do without this erotic and stimulating exhibition.
The only hope that I had was my observation that Eileen's smoking style had
perceptively begun to change. Getting used to smoking as she had, Eileen's
inhales were at last getting deeper, and her exhales, though still through her
mouth, were now regularly followed by small streams of smoke unconsciously
exhaled from her nostrils over a series of two or three breaths. I playfully
complimented her saying, "you seem to be getting rather proficient with
smoking." Eileen answered defensively that as soon as I was away at school,
she'd have no reason to smoke, that she was only doing it to excite me. I
optimistically prayed otherwise.

Before too long, summer was gone, and Eileen and I had our tearful farewell. We
both realized that we had developed a very close and special relationship, and
agreed that during vacations and for the next summer we would resume our
intimacy. Until then, though, we'd mutually agree to put our friendship first
but keep the door open for whatever or whoever might enter our lives in the
coming months.

Two weeks after arriving and getting situated at my new college, I received my
first letter from Eileen. Apart from writing about the start of her new term at
school and how much she missed me, her letter said little else. My reply was
equally longing and uneventful. After a few more letters, I decided to give
Eileen a call, as I was a month into my new surroundings and beginning to feel
quite lonely, missing the closeness we had established, . . .and wondering how
my little experiment was going.

Eileen was glad I had called, and spent about a half hour relating to me the
stress she was experiencing over her school, job and home workloads. She added
that her disquietude was made more intense since she wasn't used to not seeing
me as often as she wished. I asked her if she had met any guys since I had left
and she sarcastically answered "yeah, I've been screwing the football team."
This was followed by a more serious "no," which was further followed by a
rather tasty description of how she was pleasuring herself to satisfy her needs
to be with me again.

"Are you smoking at all?" I asked.

"Only when I miss you too much to bare, it seems to help me relive the
sensations that we shared, but I don't want to get hooked, so I keep it at a
low level."

I was pleased at this new development. At last she confirmed that my efforts
were successful, even, if at this point, it only meant a "low level" of
smoking. I knew that she was unknowingly training her lungs and body for the
growing need yet to come and I wouldn't be satisfied until she was the full
fledged smoker I wanted her to be.

Over the next three months, our relationship stayed on course, and by
Thanksgiving break, we had made new friends at school, even dating others
occasionally. But these dates never came close to what we shared when together.
Missing each other so, Eileen and I decided to spend as much of the four-day
Thanksgiving break together as we could. We planned to meet for drinks on
Wednesday evening. Thursday I would venture with Eileen's family up to her
older sister's house for Thanksgiving dinner, and, to top the long weekend
break off, we would sneak away to out favorite hotel for a Friday and Saturday
frolic. While driving to meet Eileen on Wednesday night, I couldn't stop
fantasizing about those last two days we'd have together. Alone in the car, I
was anxious about whether we would rekindle our old intimacy. Compulsively I'd
envision Eileen enhancing this special time by once again adding cigarettes to
the festivities. I wished that maybe she'd just give in at long last and stop
denying the enjoyment she was deriving from her cigarettes. Impatiently I was
longing for the day when she would just officially declare herself a smoker
already.

Finally, I arrived at the cozy little bar we had selected as the site for our
reunion. After the hugs, kisses, and preliminary pleasantries, we ordered our
drinks and settled in. It seemed to me almost too good to be true. Our special
friendship had survived three months of separation and we seemed to pick up
right where we had left off. As the waitress brought us our drinks, I thought
I'd start it off right away. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my B&H
Menthol Lights. As I lit up a cigarette for myself, I wondered if Eileen would
ask for or simply take one for herself. She didn't. Instead, she opened her
pocketbook, and as though in answer to all my desires, pulled out her own pack
of Virginia Slims Menthol Lights and lighter! But, of course, I remembered, she
was buying them for the occasional smoke when she missed me, or was it
something else? But wishful thinking overcame reason as confusion pushed the
envelope of my composure.

She opened the flip-top to her crush-proof pack and withdrew a cigarette. I
tried hard to deal with my incomprehensible disbelief. Forcing a smile and
trying to control my voice I asked, "well, well, what have we here..?" Lighting
her slim, white 100, she took a deep drag and inhaled. Her long explanation was
fascinating, offering time for me to regain my self control.

"You're not going to believe this," she said, exhaling thick streams of smoke
from both her mouth and nostrils as she spoke, "I mean, I don't know really
why, but a few weeks ago, I was having lunch with my girlfriend Jean from
school. She pulled out a pack of these Virginia Slims and lit one up. Watching
her enjoy that cigarette just reminded me of the times I would smoke with you,
so I just asked her for one. That one cigarette brought me so much pleasure and
so much relief from the stress I had been under, that I guess I just wondered
if I would feel that way the next time I smoked. So on the drive home from
school, I stopped off and bought a pack for myself. I used the lighter in my
car, and just rolled down the window and lit up. And although I have no
explanation for it, I experienced that same sense of pleasure and relief."

"So tell me more," I was afraid of sounding too much the beggar with that
question.

"Well," Eileen responded, "I didn't know what to think, so I started back on
the road and about 15 minutes later, after I started to contemplate all the
reading and house work I had in store that night, I felt the stress creeping
back. So I purposely lit up another cigarette and truly enjoyed it while I was
driving down the highway. And with each puff that I took, I actually could feel
the stress come out of me as I inhaled the smoke. Even the thought of fearing
my mom smelling the smoke on me when I got home didn't seem to bother me. After
I got home, had dinner, and finished my house work, I was surprised when I felt
this urge for a cigarette again. Knowing I couldn't smoke in the house, I
finished my school work as quickly as I could, and made an excuse to have to go
to the supermarket to pick up some things just so I could smoke another one." I
recognized, though she did not, that the "stress" she was feeling was probably
nicotine withdrawal symptoms, given that, low level or not, she toyed with the
white tube too long to resist its hold on her body.

As I listened intently to her story, I took special notice of the fact that
Eileen's newly developed urge to smoke had finally taken root, her smoking
style emerging well beyond those shallow, small inhales and thin exhales of the
past. She now puffed fully on her cigarette, which looked so delicious between
her feminine fingers, clashing rather agreeably with her long, flowing sandy
brown hair. Her inhales showed signs of experience as she, upon removing the
cigarette from her lips, opened her mouth to expose a large, thick, blue-white
ball of smoke, which she would then sweep down into her still somewhat innocent
lungs. Holding the smoke in for a few seconds, she would then turn her head to
the side and slightly upward, pucker her lips and release a thick stream of
smoke for a second or two. This one breath, however, was not enough to expel
all of Eileen's smoke. In one of the most erotic displays of smoking I had ever
had the pleasure to observe, thick sensuous cloudy wisps from the remainder of
this same puff would then literally flow out of her mouth and nostrils for what
appeared to be the next five or six breaths.

I guessed that she must have an extraordinarily huge lung capacity, being so
relatively new at it and I felt envious for that. But I was sure that my
mission was accomplished because that type of smoking would invariably make her
body develop an unending need for more. I relished the thought of what
happened, proving myself correct, right from the very beginning. My compulsion
led me to fantasize once again, not yet satisfied by her conclusive beginning.
I wanted those lungs of hers to become smokers lungs as I imagined her body
craving its new found addiction. I pitied myself for feeling a twinge of
jealousy that her lungs were still clean and I longed for them to be corrupted,
for her to need to smoke during all kinds of activities, not just when she felt
stressed or during sex, for her to become just another smoker, helpless and
without any other choice but to smoke during all sorts of activities and for
the rest of her life. I delighted in noting that when she was talking while she
was in one of these prolonged exhales, her smoke would escape her mouth and
nostrils continuously, almost endlessly, gradually reducing with each spoken
word, from thick streams to thin feathery reminders. I wanted her to absorb it
all, to accelerate the process.

On one puff Eileen actually leaned her head back for about half a minute,
unaware that those incredible plumes had been exhaled already as she was
speaking. Good, I thought, she's developing the habits that are necessary to
compliment this new aspect of her personality. To my complete and pleasant
surprise, from that same one puff, she actually exhaled another long and fairly
thick stream from her mouth. Of course by now, I was just about ready to lose
it, and after this exhibition, who could blame me!?

"By the looks and sounds of it, would it be safe to say that you're now smoking
on a regular basis?"

Eileen answered, "I guess so, but the basis is not so regular. It's only been a
few weeks since I started, but admittedly, I really like it. I have no more
stress, and I just feel like a new person....a more confident person.... when I
smoke. I never thought I would ever say that about smoking, but I guess I never
really knew what I was missing. To be honest, after I began playing those
little smoking games with you, I came to realize that I could grow to enjoy a
cigarette every now and then. After you left for school, I had some urges, but
I felt guilty even thinking about having urges to smoke, so I just put it out
of my mind, except when I missed you too much. And then I would only do it when
alone. Over the past month, being out with friends in clubs and around school,
I somehow found myself fixated on watching other people smoke. Something inside
kept saying have one, and after awhile, watching Jean enjoy her smoke so much,
I just gave in."

" So how much are you smoking each day?" I asked.

"I guess about a half to three fourths of a pack a day."

I asked her what she was thinking about her new-found pleasure.

"I'm not thinking about it at all, I'm just smoking. I don't feel that much
stress anymore, and I actually feel good when I smoke. I guess I was a little
afraid about getting hooked, but I just want to smoke when I feel like smoking,
and each day I feel like smoking more."

As she continued her explanation, so did her smoking, much to my added delight.
About an hour into our evening, she had already smoked three cigarettes. I told
her that at that pace, she had to be smoking more than three fourths of a pack
a day. Eileen replied, apologetically, that her limited smoking was a result of
the fact that she couldn't allow herself to do it at home, that her mother had
already commented that she could smell smoke on Eileen's clothes and in her
car. Eileen was able to side track her mother's curiosity by saying it was only
a result of being in smoky places or allowing friends to smoke in her car. But
this was now Eileen's new dilemma-how much longer could she hold out not being
able to smoke at home? Obviously crossing the threshold and accepting the image
of herself as a smoker, it would only be a matter of time before her body--now
at less than a pack a day level, and with Eileen's psychological desire to
"smoke more", would demand higher and more frequent doses of nicotine.

The next day, Thanksgiving , found me, Eileen, her mom, dad and younger sister
Kathy taking a two hour drive upstate to her older sister Terry's house. Though
I never met Terry or her husband, I did remember Eileen telling me in her
non-smoking days that her sister Terry was a very heavy smoker. Having never
exposed myself as a smoker to Eileen's parents or Kathy, and remembering Eileen
tell of how her sister Terry never smoked around the rest of the family, I
figured that today would be interesting with all of us smokers resisting our
temptations. But now that Eileen's barriers to smoking had been completely torn
down, I began to once again fantasize. I thought that maybe she had the
potential to become a heavy smoker. Perhaps it's genetics, I don't know, but I
felt that if her sister smoked so much, Eileen had it in her to do so also.

I had not planned it, but as it turned out, I would be able to use this day as
an opportunity to help Eileen address her predicament about not being truly
free to smoke at her leisure. I knew this had to be addressed for the last
obstacle to be overcome. Fortunately, I would also have a lot of help. To begin
with, I had to deal with the idea of not being able to smoke for the entire
day. This was going to be a problem, as I had progressed beyond a pack a day
myself over the last three months while away at college. It was during this
time that I had come to terms with the fact that my 9 year love affair with
smoking was beyond my control, as I was now myself a truly nicotine-addicted
smoker. I had not gone a day without a cigarette for so long that I couldn't
begin to remember when that day was. I pitied Eileen, that she, too, couldn't,
under her present circumstances, freely reach the level I so desired for her as
I had for myself. By the end of our two hour drive, I was climbing the walls;
there was no way I was going to make it through the day smokeless.

Upon entering Eileen's sister's house, I was immediately relieved upon seeing a
full ashtray and a couple of packs of Merit 100s lying on the coffee table in
the living room. Not long after, we all learned that Terry had laid down the
law with mom and dad, and she was now openly smoking in their presence in her
own house. The third sign of relief was learning that Terry's husband Randy was
a 3 pack-a-day smoker! Eileen's folks (more her mother), were quick to
elucidate their objections to this, starting from the first cigarette Terry lit
up 2 minutes after we all arrived. This was enough for me. I couldn't care less
about what Eileen's parents would think knowing that I smoked, so I pulled
Eileen aside, took my pack of cigarettes and lighter from my jacket, and said,
"Sorry babe, but the disguise is coming off." I had never had to spend this
much time with her parents before today, and not smoking in front of them was
never an issue, until now. I was going to smoke for the rest of that day
because I wanted and needed to, and I resolved as well to help set the stage
for Eileen in breaking the ice with her parents about her own smoking.

Re-entering the already smoky living room, I turned to Terry and said, "Do you
mind if I smoke in your house?" It was a move to show Eileen's parents that my
smoking would be officially accepted by the law of the house. Terry replied
with a broad smile, "How could I? Please do!" Looking over at Eileen's folks, I
simply said "sorry if this upsets you, but I've been smoking for 9 years......"
and proceeded to light up.

Not a word was spoken, but mom and dad were not pleased. Terry, Randy and I
struck up an instant friendship, and spent the next hour smoking and talking
about how much we loved to smoke, unfortunately further annoying the old folks.
Then moving to the kitchen, we three smokers went about putting the final
touches to the turkey dinner about to be served.

Soon, Eileen entered and started signaling me aside. Asking what she wanted,
she replied quietly, "Come upstairs with me. I'll pretend I'm giving you a tour
of the house. I really need to have a cigarette!!" I told her no, if you want a
cigarette, have one here in the kitchen with the rest of us smokers. Eileen
replied, "No...are you nuts?? I can't smoke in front of my family!"

I answered, "honey, half your family smokes!!....get over it, come out of the
closet, and light up right here. At least let your sister and Randy in on it.
They'll understand." Eileen didn't respond. I pulled out a chair, asked her to
sit down and said, "allow me."

I knew Eileen's folks and Kathy were glued to the television and some old photo
albums out in the living room, so I assured her not to worry about them for
now. Getting Terry's and Randy's attention, I said, "hey guys, gather 'round,
Eileen has something to show and tell." Asking them to keep it quiet, I pulled
a B&H Menthol Light from my pack and handed it to Eileen. As she took the
cigarette from me, Terry's and Randy's eyes open wide in disbelief. Terry
whispered, "oh no, don't even try to tell me that you're going to smoke that,
my little anti-smoking sister!" With that said, as Terry and Randy gazed on, I
flicked my Bic and gave Eileen a light. Closing her eyes as the end of the
cigarette touched the flame, Eileen took a confident and experienced drag,
inhaled deeply in her new style, and gave her sister and brother-in-law their
first look at her long, smooth, multi-breath exhale.

Terry said, "I don't believe it, after all these years of grief from you about
my smoking. How long have you been hiding this? For awhile I would guess;
you've obviously been smoking for some time based on that monster cloud of an
exhale."

Everybody let out a quiet laugh, then smiled with approval and proceeded to
light up a cigarette of their own to celebrate Eileen's newfound pleasure.
Eileen told Terry that she first tried smoking about a year ago with me, but
that she had only started smoking regularly, "a few weeks ago."

Terry asked "Does mom and dad know?"

Eileen said, "No, they don't."

I interjected that "They didn't even know that I smoked until today."

Eileen sat next to her sister, "Terry, you've got to help me, how do I tell mom
and dad?"

Terry replied, "Geez Eileen, that's a tough one. I hid it from them all through
high school, and even after I moved out of their house. It took me almost a
year to tell them. Also, me and Randy never even smoked here in our own house
for the past 5 years when you guys would come up because mom told me we would
be a bad influence on you and Kathy. After all this time we had enough of it,
so when we were planning today's get-together, I told her, 'Ma, enough is
enough'. Eileen and Kathy aren't little kids anymore, and me and Randy were
going to smoke in our own home whenever we wanted, so get used to it. Mom
wasn't happy, but too bad.....I'm 30 years old! The more I thought about it,
the more I wished I had just smoked right in front of them when I was 16 . It
would have been great not having to sneak around and worry about how my breath
and clothes smelled everytime I came home all those years."

Terry went on to instruct Eileen on how to break the ice. She looked seriously
at Eileen telling her, "after dinner and dessert, when we all sit back down for
coffee, wait for the three of us to light up. Get up from the table, get your
pocketbook, sit back down and say 'Mom, Dad, Kathy, I'm sorry but it's time I
got honest with you about something.' Then pull you pack of cigarettes out and
light one up. We'll all be there, so whatever happens, you'll have our full
support."

Taking a last puff from her cigarette, Eileen crushed it out and said
resigningly, "I guess you're right Terry, so I'll try it. But if I can't get
the courage up, don't say anything to embarrass me." Terry agreed, and with
that, we finished the dinner preparations.

That turkey dinner was going to be great, but I couldn't wait for what was to
follow . After dinner, just as planned, Eileen got up from the table to
retrieve her pocketbook as Terry, Randy and I lit up. Her mom said "That's
right Eileen, I can't take these smokers either."

Eileen hollered back from the other room, "No ma, I just have to get something.
I'm coming right back."

Seconds later, Eileen returned to the table with her pocketbook. As she opened
it, she looked at her mom and dad and said very matter-of-factly, "I know
you're not going to like what you are about to see, so I'm sorry, but today is
the day I have to do this."

With that, she pulled out her Virginia Slims Menthol Lights and lighter.

Her mother, totally shocked, snapped, "Eileen, don't you dare tell me you've
started smoking!" "Yes, mom, I have, and nothing you or Dad say or do is going
to stop me. If you would like, we can talk more about it later, but right now.
. . ."

With that, Eileen proceeded to light up, and the four of us smokers changed the
subject as we enjoyed our after-dinner cigarettes.

Over the next few hours, Eileen smoked a cigarette every half-hour or so, and I
carefully observed the reactions on the faces of her parents. They didn't say
anything but it was obvious that they were growing more uncomfortable,
fidgeting whenever she'd light up. Her younger sister Kathy tried to reduce the
tension by engaging in light conversation.

Just before we were to leave, Kathy, who was 14 at the time, pulled me aside
and asked if it was I who had shown Eileen how to smoke. I told Kathy that
Eileen became interested in smoking on her own, and that when she decided to
try it, I helped her. Guessing where Kathy was heading, I asked her why she was
so curious. Kathy told me, after swearing me to secrecy, that she was very
interested in trying smoking, and was proud that Eileen had "stood up" to her
parents. She said that over the last few hours, Eileen seemed like a "new
person" , more confident and mature and that her smoking enhanced that image. I
promised Kathy to keep her secret. I further encouraged that she should
experiment as soon as possible. If she did, I continued, she'd find a lot of
truth in what she was saying and that she'd probably want to add this new,
useful habit to her self image as well.

The ride home, unfortunately, turned into a two hour debate between Eileen and
her parents. Despite their objections and anger, Eileen maintained her
position. In fact, it must have caused her to smoke more than she would have
since she was practically chain smoking the whole way. I realized that her
parents were inadvertently ingraining the habit as Eileen seemed to be using it
as a form of separation, a statement as to her individuality. She made it clear
to them that she was going to smoke, though she agreed that she would not smoke
in the house.

We enjoyed the rest of the weekend on our own, and Eileen smoked freely
throughout reaching as much as two packs the last day. I felt sure that she,
too, would become a 3 pack a day smoker, like her sister, as soon as her body
got used to this increased level, needing no further encouragement from me.

Once I returned to school, Eileen and I kept in close touch, and we spent most
of the Christmas break together. As the new year progressed, we had both
started seeing other people, but we agreed that we would always remain friends.
That summer, we spent a lot of time together, but by now, a few things had
changed.

Since that Thanksgiving Day, Eileen and been spending less and less time taking
responsibility for things around her house, and it appeared that her parents
put less expectations on her. She told me that she had explained to her folks
that her education was her major priority, and that, due to time pressure, she
couldn't do all of the little things around the house anymore. Also, since
Thanksgiving, Eileen would regularly step outside to smoke throughout the day.
She said she took no special care in avoiding smoking when her folks were
around, but that her mom would "ride" her on occasion.

Once it started getting cold outside, Eileen told me that she very simply sat
down with her folks and told them that she was now going to smoke in her room.
They objected originally, but after Eileen insinuated that she would make plans
to move out, they gave in. They feared being without Eileen and, so, eventually
allowed her to smoke anywhere in the house, which she did without a second
thought. Finally reaching a solid two packs every day, Eileen had also switched
brands to Benson & Hedges Menthol, saying that she enjoyed the stronger,
full-flavor 100s.

Much has happened since then. We both graduated college the following year, and
went to work in New York City. Periodically, I would meet Eileen for dinner and
drinks after work. Our relationship became completely platonic.

One night, while we were having coffee and cigarettes, I asked her for the
first time in years to tell me what she thought about smoking. She said that
once she had realized years ago how much she enjoyed smoking, and how it
relaxed her and gave her so much self-confidence, she decided to just let it
take its natural course. She was aware of the fact that it was not good for
her, but she accepted the risk, even coming to terms with her newfound cough
which she dealt with by having another cigarette since smoking one would
somehow immediately stop her morning coughing ritual. She enjoyed the
self-image she had found as a smoker, and knew that she would smoke for the
rest of her life. Success at last!

A few years later, Eileen got married and soon after moved to Ireland where her
husband had taken a job. We kept in touch as best we could, writing and calling
each other periodically. A year later, I also got married. I had not heard from
Eileen for almost two years. Then just a few weeks ago, Eileen unexpectedly
called me one night at home. She said that she was in town for a week for
Kathy's college graduation.

"Oh, and by the way, you naughty boy, she told me how you encouraged her to
start smoking too."

"Oh, she's a regular smoker finally?"

"Of course she is. Once I found out that she wanted to, I had to rescue her
from my parents. That meant getting them to let her smoke as much as she
desired and bolstering her bashful attitude about it. At first it was mere
devilishness that kept her going, but now she needs them just like the rest of
us. Well, I hope you're satisfied."

"I am, shouldn't I be?"

"I suppose, well, why not I guess. She would have sooner or later anyway, and I
can't think of anyone better than me to help her along the way."

We made plans to meet for dinner, just the two of us, as her husband didn't
make the trip and my wife had other plans. Arriving a little late at the
restaurant, I noticed Eileen sitting at a small table in the smoking section in
back. As I made my way to the table, Eileen stood up to greet me, holding her
freshly lit cigarette. Following our pleasant reunion hugs and kisses, I
pointed to the leather cigarette case on the table and asked, "may I?"

"Oh course you may, if fact I insist," Eileen replied.

I wanted one of her cigarettes, just to see what brand was in the case. "Oh, a
different brand!?" I asked, and lit up using a classy gold electronic lighter
tucked into her cigarette case.

"I switched to unfiltered Pall Mall. That's my husband's brand. I would often
run out of my B&H's and because he keeps many cartons on hand, it just became
more convenient. When I'd try my old brand, they didn't do it for me, so it's
been Pall Malls from now on, for the last year," Eileen replied. It was great
to see how she had fallen wholeheartedly. I was sure that by now she even
surpassed me in total lifetime tar intake though I had been smoking for more
years than she had.

Though we didn't see each other in years and had much catching up to do, we
spent a good deal of our time reminiscing about how she became a smoker. I
supposed that since so much of our relationship involved this activity, we'd
naturally bring it up. She said that she had stabilized at about 3 to 3 1/2
packs a day, sometimes more, and that there was far less social pressure
against smoking in Ireland and most of Europe compared to the U.S., "thank
God". And wouldn't you know it, that still to this day, watching Eileen light
up and smoke with her almost theatrically long puffs, deep inhales and drawn
out exhales still gets me going.

I used to be jealous of her large lung capacity, but hearing an occasional
wheeze just before clearing her throat , I knew that I wouldn't have to feel
that way anymore. She finally made it, a complete smoker. Some may think it was
wrong for me to have done what I did, but I feel justified. First off, I merely
provided the conditions that facilitated her smoking and its many allures.
Anyone, even staunch anti-smokers have it in them to learn smoking
gratification if they would just try it long enough, or to come back again if
they quit. Smokers understand and if anyone wonders why I care I just answer
that it gets my temper going when we are judged too harshly by the anti-smokers
amongst us. The world would be a better place if it would be more tolerant, and
for that reason alone I feel that we should encourage, or even challenge, any
intolerant anti-smoker to try smoking long enough to learn some humility.
Perhaps they, too, need to become smokers if that's what it takes. Sure there
may be health consequences, but why single out us smokers? People have needs,
and just because smoking may satisfy those needs as does overeating, drinking,
consuming environmentally unfriendly products, and more, we shouldn't be held
out as pariahs. I proved to my satisfaction that there's another side to this
current controversy, even if it meant sacrificing another untainted lung. I
fulfilled my small part and have done it for others as well. But, in the final
analysis, Eileen did it for herself. It was, ultimately, her choice, and she
isn't sorry for it, regardless of her presently darkened lungs, her slowly
evolved and now permanently out of shape smoker's body, the occasional
inconvenience and all the rest of what it takes to be a smoker. And I don't
mind that I did it to my body too, the pleasure was worth it.

Just for old times sake, before departing, we shared one last smoky kiss, but
this time it was she who took the lead, forcing her smoke into my lungs. We
controlled ourselves even though those pleasant memories of the hotel seemed,
for a moment, to hint at one last fling. Fortunately for our spouses, however,
those days are just memories.