I Want You Back, Part 2

This fictional account contains explicit sexual material, adult language and
adult themes.  If such material, language and themes offend you, please do
not read further.  The persons and events described in this work are purely
fictional.  Any similarity to actual persons or events is strictly
coincidental.  Copyright 2001 by SSTORYMAN.  All rights reserved.  Permission
is hereby granted to reproduce this story in any form and for any purpose as
long as this notice is reproduced and no financial remuneration is received,
directly or indirectly, by the person reproducing it.  Thanks to AZ-MAN for
his ongoing ideas, support and encouragement

I WANT YOU BACK

2.	A Message From a Friend.

   Susan got home from work at six thirty and turned on her computer.  Bob
wasn't home yet, but that was typical.  He rarely got home before seven or
seven thirty.  Waiting for the computer to boot up, she checked the answering
machine for messages and absent-mindedly leafed through the mail.  Finally,
she opened the refrigerator and poured a glass of Diet Pepsi.  In the old
days, she'd have lit up a cigarette before checking the computer.  But those
days were over.  She sighed.  They were gone, but God, she had to admit, she
still missed smoking!

   She had several email messages from friends and family.  She looked at the
last one.  She didn't recognize the address.  It was from an anonymous email
account.  That puzzled her.  She clicked to open it.  It read:

"Susan, today I found out that Bob is having lunch tomorrow with another
woman, one who smokes and who works at the company.  You may not know what's
going on with Bob.  Susan, the fact that you quit smoking will come back to
haunt you in a big way.  Bob's not happy about it.  You know what you should
do.  If you're smart, you'll start smoking again immediately.  Don't try to
contact me, other than by responding to this anonymous email address.  It
could be dangerous.  Love, an old friend."

   Susan gasped.  Things weren't going well between her and Bob since she
quit smoking.  But she didn't think anyone else knew.  So who could've sent
that message?  It had to be someone Bob knew at work, and someone who also
knew her.  But why didn't they just contact her directly and identify himself
or herself?  She didn't know.

   She thought about who was left at the company from the days she worked
there.  After she and Bob got married, she took a job as an office manager at
a public relations firm.  They felt it wasn't smart for her to work in the
same office he did.  There were only two possible candidates.  One was Bob's
friend Mitch Robertson, and the other her old friend Peggy Wells.

   In the old days, Mitch and his wife Andrea socialized with Bob and Susan.
She considered Mitch a friend, but his primary loyalty would have been to
Bob, not to her.  Even so, it was possible Mitch was concerned enough about
something like this to tip her off.  He probably knew the extent to which Bob
was unhappy with her decision to quit.  As for Peggy, she hadn't seen Peggy
since she stopped smoking.  They, too, used to socialize together, long after
she left the company.  Peggy was a good friend, at least as long as they were
both smoking.  To be honest, Susan had shunned her after she quit.  She
didn't like being around her old smoking friends after she swore off
cigarettes.  Peggy wasn't the only one Susan had left in the dust, so to
speak, but she a significant loss.  Peggy might want to warn her about
something like this.  But whether it was Mitch or Peggy, it made no sense to
email her anonymously and ask her not to contact them.  She frowned.  This
was weird.

   Susan hit the "reply" button and typed a quit comeback:

"Dear Friend:  Thanks for the warning.  You're right.  Things haven't been
good with Bob and me since I quit smoking.  I don't know what you've heard
from Bob, but I know he's upset by my decision.  I gather from your message
that you think something romantic may be going on with Bob and this other
woman, the one who smokes.  But I can't start smoking again.  I just can't.
I'm interested in any other advice you have.  In the meantime, I'll be as
nice to Bob as I can.  Sincerely, Susan."

   She read the message over and then clicked the "send" button.  Would Bob
cheat on her?  He was definitely pissed because she wouldn't have sex anymore
when he'd been smoking, which was most of the time.  She sighed.  Maybe she'd
have to relent and put out more often.

   In the beginning Susan hoped that withdrawing sexual favors from Bob would
influence him to quit, too.  But it didn't work.  If anything, it made the
whole subject an even bigger bone of contention between them.  And now she
might be on the verge of losing him altogether.

   As she sat thinking, a new email message appeared on her screen.  It was
from the same anonymous "friend."  She clicked on it.

"Susan, I just got your message.  You're making a big mistake!!  If you want
to keep Bob, you must start smoking again.  This isn't worth it, believe me.
This woman has absolutely no moral scruples.  She'll smoke with Bob and fuck
him.  She'll steal him away from you before you know what happened.  Bob's
always loved you.  But his patience is running out.  Don't make it so hard
for him to decide where he's sexually satisfied.  Light up, stupid!  As
always, your friend."

   Susan gulped.  She again hit the "reply" button and typed a follow up
message.

"Dear Friend:  Why won't you identify yourself?  It'd be easier if we could
talk face to face about this.  You're right; Bob and I haven't been making
love much recently.  I've been trying to push him into quitting smoking.
Maybe that was a mistake.  If so, I'll change my approach.  But I'd like to
know who you are.  Sincerely, Susan."

   She waited and took a big sip of Diet Pepsi.  The time lag drove her
crazy, so she left to go upstairs to change her clothes.  When she returned,
sure enough, there was another message.

"Susan, I can't tell you my identity right now.  Trust me.  Eventually it
will all become clear why that's best.  But for now, you only need to know
one thing:  You have to start smoking again as soon as possible!  Your
happiness hangs in the balance.  The decision is yours.  Don't fuck this up!
Sincerely, your friend."

   She frowned again.  She considered replying one more time, but decided not
to.  There was nothing to be gained.  She knew what her `friend' would say,
and she just couldn't do it.  She just couldn't start smoking again.

   She'd agonized over her decision to quit more than Bob or anyone knew.
She loved to smoke; she always had.  She'd been a smoker since high school,
and she loved the habit.  She adored lighting up a cigarette and sucking
smoke into her greedy lungs more than twenty times a day.  She thought she'd
never quit.  But then her mom called her one fateful evening eight months
ago.  The news of her Aunt Barbara's lung cancer poured cold water on her
devotion to nicotine.  She remembered the call well.  Her mom told her of her
aunt's diagnosis, and she freaked.  Like many people in her twenties, Susan
figured she was invincible.  The news about Aunt Barbara shook her to the
core.  Barbara was only forty-five, and she lived only two months after the
diagnosis.  Susan's mom and Barbara, her mom' s sister, lived in Atlanta.
Susan didn't go to the funeral.  It was too far away, and she was way too
upset.  But during the time between that first phone call and the funeral,
she decided she should quit.  It'd been hard as hell to stop smoking, but
she'd done it.

   And now here was someone saying she should start up again.  Part of her
wanted to jump on that advice, go out and buy a pack of her beloved Newports,
and begin smoking again right then.  But she couldn't shake the picture of
Aunt Barbara, a life-long smoker, dying of lung cancer.  It couldn't be
ignored.  No, she'd have to solve this new problem with Bob another way.

   "Honey, I've been too hard on you about this smoking thing," she later
told Bob after they finished supper.  "I've been giving you lots of shit
about smoking in the house.  That's not fair.  I promise not to get on you
about it anymore.  I still wish you'd quit, but I'm not going to make your
life hell over it.  The decision about whether to keep smoking is totally up
to you."

   Bob looked up from his magazine.  "Well, that's a switch," he said with a
smile.  "But it's very nice.  To what do I owe this sudden change of heart?"

   "Oh, nothing in particular," Susan replied, almost too casually.  "I've
just been thinking about how unfair I've been.  That's all."

   Bob reached into his shirt pocket for his pack of Benson & Hedges.
"You're serious?  Are you sure?" he asked expectantly.  He shook a cigarette
from the pack and put it in his mouth.

   "Yes, absolutely," she smiled bravely.  "Go ahead.  I don't mind."

   Bob lit up a B&H and sucked an initial drag of smoke into his chest.
"It's no fun being a smoker living with a non-smoker, Susan.  You were
happier when you were smoking, too.  I wish you'd reconsider your decision to
quit."

   She bristled.  "Bob, we've been over this.  I had to quit.  I just had to.
It's not that I didn't like it.  You know I did.  It's just that . . . ."

   "I know, I know," he replied.  "You don't want to die like your Aunt
Barbara."

   "That's right," she nodded.  "I'm sorry, Bob, but it's for the best.
However, I promise not to give you shit anymore.  It's your decision."

   The smell of his cigarette was pleasant to Susan.  She sat down next to
him and nuzzled up against him.  "I also feel terrible about the way I've
been turning down your requests to have sex all the time," she whispered,
running her fingers up and down his leg.  "Maybe when you're done with your
cigarette, we could think about going upstairs to make love."

   Bob brightened.  "God, Susan, what's gotten into you?"  He smiled, feeling
his cock stiffen.  "I'd much rather make love to you than jerk off in front
of the stupid TV."

   Her hand rested on his swollen cock.  She knew she was turning him on, and
she wanted to increase the temptation.  "I want you to fuck me, honey," she
whispered eagerly.  "Right now.  I can't wait.  Tell me you want to fuck me,
too.  Let me hear you say it.  I love that."

   "I want to fuck you, babe," he happily sighed.  "But are you sure you want
to fuck me?  My breathe smells like cigarette smoke, remember?"

   She began pulling down his zipper.  "Honey, I don't give a damn if you
smell like shit," she murmured eagerly.  "I just want to fuck!"  From inside
his pants she freed his throbbing member and gently began stroking it with
her fingers.  "Just go ahead and finish your cigarette, baby.  Because I've
got something else here that will keep my mouth busy for a little while."

   Bob took a long drag on his cigarette and moaned with pleasure as she
licked his cock.  "Oh, yeah, Susie," he groaned with delight.  "It's just
like the good old days."

   Yes it is, Susan thought to herself.  And whoever that bitch is you're
going to lunch with tomorrow, you bastard, let's see if she can top this!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Bob stood by the front door of the office building.  Brandy Benson stepped
out of the elevator and waltzed up to him.  "Hi, Bob," she smiled cheerily.
"Your car or mine?"

   "Let's take mine.  It's in the executive lot, right by the door."

   With no hesitation she took his arm.  "Great," she said with a big grin.
"Let's go."

   They walked to his red Boxster two-seater.  He opened the door for Brandy.
She slid in, and settled into the leather seat.

   "Damn!  Nice car," she said approvingly as he entered the driver's side.
She pulled a leather cigarette case from her purse.  "I assume you don't mind
if I smoke in it?"

   "Of course not," he laughed, pointing to the open ashtray full of
cigarette butts.  "Even if you don't smoke, I will."

   She quickly slipped a cork-tipped cigarette between her lips.  "God,
that's what I like about you, Bob," she sighed.  "You're obviously an
absolutely incorrigible smoker!"

   Brandy clicked a slim, expensive looking, gold Calibri lighter to ignite
her cigarette.  With an audible `whoosh' she sucked smoke deep into her lungs
and held it there.  Bob couldn't help noticing how sexy this sounded.
Without meaning to, he smiled in reaction to the noise.

   She smiled back, as if she knew the effect she was having on him.  "You're
not at all shy about your smoking habit, Bob," she went on.  "I like that.
No self-effacing shit.  As you can see, that's exactly the way I am, too.  I
never apologize for being a smoker.  Never!"

   He watched her exhale a long stream of smoke into the car's interior.
"Yeah, I can tell," he laughed again.  "You don't seem the least bit
uncomfortable about being a smoker."

   "No, I'm not, Bob," she said earnestly.  "I'm proud to be a smoker, and I
admit, I like to smoke every single fuckin' chance I get."  She took another
long drag, and again audibly inhaled the smoke.  "You and I are soul mates,
at least when it comes to this particular subject."

   Bob lit up a B&H of his own as she exhaled again.  "You've got that right,
Brandy," he said appreciatively.  He sensed this would turn out to be a very
pleasant lunch.  And it did.

   They visited an upscale place called Berton's and sat in the smoking
section.  Brandy lived up to her self description.  She smoked constantly
from the moment they sat down, and when their food came, she didn't stop.  "I
hope you don't mind," she giggled.  "But after going a long time without
smoking, I like to smoke while I eat.  You don't mind, do you, Bob?"

   "No," he smiled back.  "I don't mind at all."

   He was smitten by the way she indulged herself with her ever-present
cigarettes.  He loved to watch beautiful women smoke, especially when they
appeared to be totally addicted.  And Brandy was that.  She smoked
voraciously, and with great style.  The audible `whoosh' she made each time
she inhaled or exhaled drew even more attention to her fascinating
mannerisms.

   By the time they were done eating, she'd smoked six cigarettes.  When
coffee was served, she lit up again, going back to her leather case for yet
another.  Watching closely, he saw that her brand was indeed Marlboro 100's.
At that close range he spotted the familiar red and white pack design inside
her monogrammed burgundy leather cigarette pouch.

   "So, tell me, Bob."  She held her freshly lit cork-tipped cigarette by her
face, with her wrist cocked perfectly.  "You're a married man.  Does your
wife smoke, too?"

   Bob looked down.  He sighed.  "No, she doesn't.  She used to, but she quit
six months ago."  He removed a B&H from the pack in his jacket pocket and lit
up again, too.

   "Oh, poor baby," Brandy pouted.  "I'm so sorry to hear that.  God, it must
be hard for you, since you like to smoke so much.  It's the pits having to
smoke alone all the time.  I hope your wife doesn't give you shit about
smoking, now that she's quit."

   "I'm afraid she does," he admitted halfheartedly.  Brandy was fascinating,
but he was reluctant to discuss his marital situation with another women,
especially one as sexy and alluring as the lovely brunette sitting across the
table.

   "Oh, that's awful," she seductively sighed.  "I'd find that intolerable.
But you're an attractive guy, Bob.  Why don't you just leave the bitch?"

   "Well, it's not that simple," he explained.  "To tell you the truth, I
haven't completely given up hope that Susan will eventually come back.  After
all, it's only been six months."

   "Six months is an eternity, Bob," she shot back.  "How has Susan - is that
her name? - how has her quitting affected your sex life?"

   Bob startled.  "What?"

   Brandy laughed.  "When I have sex, I like to smoke.  And I know I'm not
the only one.  Don't tell me you and Susan never smoked while you were
fucking?"

   He nervously manicured his cigarette in the ashtray and cleared his
throat.  "Candidly, Brandy, I don't think it's any of your damn business."

   "Of course it's not," she said with a giggle, rolling her eyes.  "But so
what?  You can tell me, Bob.  I totally understand.  I was just in a
relationship where _my_ partner quit smoking on me, too.  Believe me, it
sucks, big time!  So, tell little old Brandy all about it.  You _did_ used to
smoke together while you fucked, didn't you?  And you liked it, too, didn't
you?"

   Bob slowly nodded.  "Yeah, we did.  And I loved it.  But now I'm lucky if
she'll make love with me at all.  She always complains about my mouth tasting
like licking a dirty ashtray."

   She licked her lips.  "Mmm, I think sounds yummy!"  She giggled
lasciviously.  "I'm serious.  Anything that reminds me of smoke, I absolutely
love.  Like I said, I'm not in a relationship right now, Bob.  What would you
think about you and me getting together?"

   He stopped in mid-exhale.  "Oh my God!  Are you propositioning me,
Brandy?"

   "Sure, why not?"

   "But I'm married, for God's sake!"

   She mockingly shook her head as she manicured her cigarette in the
ashtray.  "And what does _that_ have to do with anything?  God, Bob, don't be
so Victorian!  I'm not suggesting we get married, for Christ's sake.  I'm
only proposing that we console each other by fucking.  Your bitchy wife no
longer smokes when you have sex, and I'm single and unattached."  He
hesitated, so she went on.  "Look, I'm not worried about being the `other
woman,' if that's what you think.  I was the `other woman' in my last
relationship.  I'm used to it.  It doesn't bother me.  I want a relationship
with a smoker, Bob.  You do, too, I think.  Can you honestly say that you
don't find me attractive?  Fooling around together would be damn nice.  You
know it's true!"

   He hesitated.  "God, Brandy, I don't know."  He looked at the lovely siren
smiling across the table.  She _was_ damn good looking.  And she was sexy as
hell smoking.  He sighed.  "It's a hell of an offer, Brandy.  I just need to
think about it."

   She crushed her cigarette in the ashtray and reached for another one.
With it perched in her lips, she smiled seductively.  "How about a light,
Bob?"

   Instinctively he reached for his lighter and lit her up.  As she sucked on
her fresh Marlboro 100, she began running her foot against his leg under the
table.  "Bob, this is only about sex, pure and simple.  I don't need you for
anything else.  I've got plenty of status, and money, too.  The IS job market
is great.  With my experience I can get a new job anytime I want.  That's why
I left my old job.  I was bored.  Eventually I'll leave here and go somewhere
else.  Someone's always willing to pay for my computer expertise.  My
interest in you is only because I'm looking for a man who'll fuck me and give
me pleasure.  The only candidates I consider are full-fledged smokers, Bob.
That's why I wanted to have lunch.  You're good looking and smart.  I knew
that from the moment I saw you and heard what Peggy had to say about you.
This lunch only confirmed what I suspected from the start.  We should get
together, Bob."

   "But what about Susan?"

   Brandy laughed out loud.  "What about Susan?  Just don't tell her, Bob.
She never needs to know.  I'm sure you often work late.  A few nights a week
you and I can go to dinner and then back to my place to fuck and smoke.  Or,
hell, we'll order pizza and stay at my place if you prefer.  Susan will never
know.  Tell me honestly.  Do you really believe she's never cheated on you?"

   "I don't know," he stammered.  "I guess I've never thought about it."

   "Is she good looking?"

   "Oh yeah," he confirmed with a sigh.  "She's damn good looking."

   "Then I bet you any amount of money she's cheated on you.  Everybody does
it, Bob.  It's not weird.  I'm surprised you haven't thought about it."  She
paused for another hit on her Marlboro.  "Do you mean to tell me you've never
cheated on Susan?"

   Bob squirmed.  "I have," he admitted.  "I was at a sales convention a
couple years ago, and there was this buxom, young blond.  We had a few
drinks, and . . . . "

   "See," Brandy triumphantly exclaimed.  "That's what I mean.  Susan never
found out, and everything was fine.  Fine, that is, till she quit smoking.
On the other hand, if you don't feel you need it, if you really think you get
everything you want and need in bed at home, then I guess there's nothing
more for us to talk about."

   "I didn't say that," he immediately answered.  He blushed.  "I'm _not_
happy.  To be honest, Brandy, I spend a hell of a lot of nights jerking off
in front of the TV these days."

   "And just think, Bob," she said smoothly, batting her eyes.  "Instead, you
could be fucking me!"  She took another long drag and laughed.  "How about
tonight?  Let's give it a try, Bob, and see what you think.  I know you'll be
completely satisfied.  I'm great in bed, and I'll smoke the whole time.  It's
what I want, and what you want, too.  What do you say?  My place, right after
work tonight?"

   He vacillated momentarily, then nodded.  "Okay, Brandy.  You've got a
deal.  But it's only for sex.  That's it.  No strings, no attachments, no
expectations.  Just sex."

   She smiled broadly.  She was clearly pleased.  "That's right.  It's only
about fucking."  She lowered her voice to a whisper.  "But you know what?
We'll have a hell of a lot of fun, Bob.  I'm exactly the kind of smoking
partner you had before Susan quit; actually, I'm even better, I'm sure.  I'm
great in bed, Bob.  Trust me.  You won't regret this."

   He smiled.  "I hope not, Brandy."  His eyes betrayed his excitement.  He
wanted her.  He slid his leg under the table and began stroking hers.  "You
are exhilarating."

   "Yes," she demurely replied, chaining into another cigarette.  "I know."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   That afternoon when Bob went outside to smoke, he found his friends Mitch
and Peggy with Brandy and another girl, Melinda.  All of them were already
smoking.

   As he approached, Mitch grinned.  "So, Bob, how did your lunch go with
Brandy?"

   "Fine," he said simply, lighting up a B&H and glancing at the saucy
brunette.

   "Oh, it was wonderful," Brandy gushed.  "Bob is great.  In fact, he and I
are having dinner tonight, too."

   Bob shot her an annoyed look.  She ignored it.

   "Why?" Peggy asked.  "Is there something going on ?"

   "No, of course not," Brandy laughed.  "Bob told me his wife Susan recently
quit smoking.  It really pisses him off.  Susan bitches at him about
quitting, too.  But he doesn't want to.  I have some ideas about how to start
Susan smoking again.  That's all there is to it, really."

   "Susan's an old friend of mine," Peggy observed.  She lifted a Virginia
Slim to her lips for a long drag.  "We worked together when she was here five
years ago.  We used to socialize together.  But since Susan quit smoking, I
never see her."  She looked at Brandy.  "I shouldn't admit this, but I'd like
to see Susan smoke again, too."

   "God," interrupted Melinda.  "I can't believe you're talking like that!  I
don't know your wife, Bob, but smoking's a terrible habit.  I wish _I_ could
quit.  I just can't," she added in a melancholy tone.

   "Comeon, Melinda," Peggy countered.  "You and Brian have been married a
year now.  And I know Brian smokes.  How would you feel if he quit and you
couldn't?"

   Melinda shrugged.  "I don't know," she admitted.  "I suppose I'd be happy
for him."

   Peggy laughed.  "Bullshit!  It'd drive you crazy, Melinda, and you know
it.  When someone like Susan quits, it changes her relationships with her old
friends who smoke.  I know.  Susan never talks to me now.  I understand why
Bob is pissed.  It's not the same, I'm sure, now that Susan quit.  He just
wants it to be the way it was, because if I know Bob, he'll never quit!"

   Bob nodded.  He was glad the conversation had shifted away from his
upcoming dinner with Brandy.  It was very smooth, he had to admit, the way
Brandy casually disclosed they were getting together, while plausibly
covering it with a very believable story.

   "Yeah, Brandy just went through a similar situation," he explained,
spinning the deception out further.  "She had a relationship with a lover who
quit smoking.  I'm interested in her ideas.  I love Susan, and I want what's
best for her, but it's been hell living with an ex-smoker the last six
months.  Brandy understands.  I'm sure the rest of you do, too."

   It was Mitch's turn to nod.  "If my wife quit without me, I'd shoot her,"
he laughed.  "It may not be good for us, but at least we're on the same page
when it comes to our little habits."

   Brandy looked straight at Melinda.  "You see, dear, I think Bob needs our
support."  She paused to light up a second cigarette and sucked an initial
burst of smoke deep into her lungs.  "We smokers all have to hang together,
or . . . ."

   "Or we'll all hang separately," Mitch laughed, finishing her sentence
while Brandy stopped to exhale.  "Well, good luck, guys.  I hope you come up
with a plan to make it happen."

   "Don't worry," Brandy mysteriously smiled, still exhaling.  "I feel pretty
confident about what's going to happen here.  Don't you, Bob?"

   "Yeah, I sure do," he answered with a smile.  As he did, Brandy give him
an almost imperceptible wink.

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