Kate's Candy, Part 1

(by anonauthor02@yahoo.com, 10 December 2003)

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Kate's Candy
by an02
Part 1 of 3

It was about 5:00PM on December 31st, 1979. Anne Martin was busy in the
kitchen working on a bowl of potato salad. "You got those hors d'oeuvres
under control, Kate?," she asked her daughter.

"Pretty much, yeah," the pretty sandy-haired 14 year-old said. "I can't wait
until these are ready. I love these seafood things." 

"You might not be saying that tomorrow," Anne laughed. "I'm guessing it'll be
a leftover kind of day.  I don't think I'll be cooking much."

"No problem," Kate replied. "All of this party stuff looks so good... I just
hope there's some left for tomorrow."

"There's a ton of food, so I guarantee that there will be," Anne answered,
wrapping the salad bowl in plastic. "Let me take a break and figure out
what's left to do," she said, placing the bowl in the refrigerator. "Geez...
we're gonna need a bigger fridge!," she said, rearranging the contents to
make more room.

Anne moved over to the counter and picked up her blue cigarette pack. She
slid out one of the long Max 120s and placed it between her lips as she
brought her lighter to life and lit up. She leaned against the counter as she
took a long, slow drag, then inhaled automatically. Kate glanced over as her
mom pensively exhaled a pair of long, bluish-white streams from her nostrils
as she took stock of what was left to do. She had watched her mom smoke for
as long as she could remember so it had never seemed unusual to her. In fact,
Kate always thought that the extra-long Max cigarettes her mom had switched
to a few years earlier looked very elegant and fashionable. For as long as
she could remember, her mom had exuded a scent that was a combination of
perfume and tobacco that Kate now automatically associated with womanhood.  

Anne Martin was 39, and was a tall, well-proportioned, impressive-looking
woman. She had a keen sense of style, always making sure she was dressed
appropriately for the occasion and that her streaked sandy-blonde hair and
makeup were just right. By now she had been a smoker for nearly 25 years. The
first 7 or 8 years she had smoked at first occasionally, almost as an
experiment, then later, daily but lightly. But when she married her husband
Jim 17 years ago, who was a smoker also, her habit blossomed and a dependency
quickly developed. Being around Jim's smoking led to her automatically
smoking more often. As she let her habit expand, Anne discovered that her
enjoyment of smoking grew exponentially. After a year of living with Jim she
had allowed herself to acquire a full-fledged cigarette addiction and before
she really even knew what was happening, she found herself comfortably
smoking a pack a day, enjoying it very much. 

At first Anne was a Kent smoker, then changed to Benson & Hedges 100s in the
late 60's. She found their ads amusing, and liked the idea of a longer
cigarette for style reasons as much as anything. She even continued to smoke
throughout her pregnancy with Kate in 1965, not really making an effort to
quit totally as her doctor didn't insist upon it. She did take his advice
just to cut down a little, and for those months she was carrying Kate she was
able, with some difficulty, to smoke only about 10 cigarettes a day. After
Kate was born, her and Jim attempted to have more children, but a series of
medical misfortunes put an end to that and Anne subsequently had to undergo
surgery that meant Kate would be their only child. Anne turned to smoking as
a crutch to support her following the operation, and by the mid-70's she was
up to nearly 30 B&Hs a day.

Even with her heavy intake, Anne still enjoyed her B&Hs, having long ago
accepted the knowledge that she had become very dependent upon them. But she
knew that her carton per week pace was not good for her. So Anne began trying
to cut down, but without much success. She tried Aquafilters, which we
advertised as helping reduce one's tar and nicotine intake, but found they
just forced her to smoke even more often and inhale more deeply to subdue her
powerful cravings. The only thing she liked about them was the length they
added to her cigarettes, which gave her a look she liked. But then, somewhere
around the mid-1970s, Anne saw an ad for Max 120s which included the tag
line, "How could something so nifty be so thrifty?". Reading the ad, she saw
that it claimed because Maxes were longer, each gave you more puffs and
smoking time so you didn't need to light up so often. That appealed to her,
and she liked the elegant look of an even longer cigarette, so she decided to
try them.

Anne needed to sample only a few of the Max 120s to know that these were the
best cigarettes she had ever smoked. They were extremely satisfying, but even
with their obvious strength they were very smooth and felt wonderful when she
inhaled. And like the ad claimed, they did take more time to smoke so she
didn't consume as many each day. She moved from needing almost 30 B&Hs a day
to a little over 20 Maxes. Plus she really liked the stylish look that
smoking such a long cigarette gave her.  So Anne decided to become a fulltime
Max 120s smoker from then onwards.  

After a year or so on the Maxes, Anne realized something that surprised her.
Even though she was smoking fewer cigarettes, she felt more addicted to them
now than ever. The Max 120s were just so tasty and satisfying that she had
fallen totally in love with them. It was all she could do to control her
smoking and not return to a regular 30-a-day pace, or even more. There was
something about the Maxes that went beyond satisfying her need for nicotine,
although they certainly delivered what she required on that score. Each puff
gave her the satisfying nicotine she craved incessantly, and also gave her
all of the wonderful physical aspects of smoking - the pulling on the filter,
the taste of the smoke, the inhalation sensations in her throat and lungs,
the look and flavor on the exhale - that she enjoyed so much. But more than
that, it was the look, the style, something psychologically satisfying -
almost, she concluded, like the businessman who would smoke a big cigar to
exude a sense of power. In her case, it was the image of a strong woman, one
who could easily handle smoking such a long, potent cigarette. A woman who
was confident and in control of her situation, who could deal with
responsibility and wasn't afraid of what came her way. She could handle
anything - except, perhaps, the cigarettes themselves. She needed her Max
120s so much that she knew she could never stop, and couldn't imagine wanting
to either.

Kate had not yet tried smoking. But now that she was getting older, a few of
her school friends had begun to smoke and Kate had started to feel that she
would like to try it someday. Seeing her mom smoke with such style and
obvious enjoyment of it made her think that she would likely enjoy it also.
So far, though, she had resisted the temptation. She had raised the topic of
smoking with her mom a few times - not about smoking herself, but asking her
mom about her own smoking - and knew from Anne's answers that it was not
something she would necessarily welcome. But she didn't make it sound like
she would be disowned if it eventually happened either, and Anne certainly
confirmed for Kate that she indeed liked it very much. Mostly, it seemed that
it was something that would be discussed when she was a little older. That
satisfied Kate for the moment, and she knew that one day it would eventually

The Martins were hosting a New Year's Eve party for about a dozen neighbors
and friends that night, and Kate was looking forward to it. Her parents
entertained occasionally and over the last couple of years Kate had taken on
the role of being a co-hostess, fetching drinks and snacks, tending to the
guests, and, when nobody was looking, occasionally tasting some of the drinks
herself. Never enough to have any real effect, but just enough to understand
what different kinds were like. It was a bit of an illicit thrill and was fun
for her. For the last year or so Kate had been allowed some wine at dinner a
few times a year on special occasions like Christmas or Thanksgiving, so she
was familiar with the effect alcohol had on her.

By about 11PM the party was in full swing and the drinks were flowing freely.
Jim had made a large bowl of alcoholic punch that disguised its power quite
well with its sweet, fruity taste. Kate had imbibed a little of it fairly
openly by this time as her parents were indulging freely themselves and
didn't seem to care, aside from a "Don't have too much of that," from her
dad. Neither were normally big drinkers, but at times like this when they
didn't have to drive home they enjoyed having a good time. Anne was drinking
domestic champagne tonight and enjoying herself tremendously, and with Kate's
assistance she didn't need to concern herself with hostess duties quite as
much. She was also smoking prodigiously, to the point where one of her
friends, Terri Doherty, made a comment to her about it.

"Are you trying to use all of those up before morning or something?," Terri
joked. "You're going thru them like there's no tomorrow. Don't tell me you're
going to quit!" They were downstairs with the rest of the party guests in the
family room, near the stairs to the main level. Kate was just about to go
downstairs to serve some of the guests and she was within earshot. She paused
when she heard that, so she quietly paid attention to the rest of the

"Lord, no. I can't quit these things - they're just too good," Anne
responded, slightly tipsy. It was probably that effect which caused her to
reveal to Terri something that she had never told anyone before. "In fact,
you know what I call these bad boys?," she asked, with a sly smile on her

"What?," Terri answered, already getting ready to laugh.

"They're my lung candy," Anne whispered conspiratorially, with a giggle. 

"God, Anne, no," Terri laughed.

"It's true," Anne continued. "They're my little puffy treats. Just like
candy. Except they're for my lungs. They just love them. God, they're so
nice," she confessed, taking another puff.

"You're a case, Anne," Terri chuckled, shaking her head. "I like smoking too,
but not that much."

"What can I say? I'm an addict," Anne answered. "But I don't care. It looks
good on me, and feels good too. It's what I am."

"I know what you mean," Terri said. "But I feel guilty about it sometimes. I
still blame myself for Jill starting to smoke." Jill Doherty, Terri's
daughter, was now a freshman in college. She was 4 years older than Kate so
they had never been very close, but Kate had noted the news last year when
word came to her that Jill had started smoking.

"Ah, don't beat yourself up over it," Anne said. "It happens, that's all."

"But aren't you worried about Kate wanting to smoke?" Terri asked.

"Well, yes and no. I mean, obviously I don't want her to smoke. But I think
it'll probably happen someday anyway. I know she wants to. We've already had
a couple of those conversations - you know, the kind where she asked me about
my smoking. I know she was really trying to find out what I would say if she
tried it. I just hope when the time comes that's she's up-front with me.
She's such a good kid that I'd hate to have that cause her to start sneaking
around. If she's going to do it anyway she might as well do it with me than
behind my back. I know I'd like that a lot better."

Kate was taken aback at hearing this. She was surprised her mom had seen thru
her attempts to sound her out on the subject. And she was even more surprised
to hear her mom's attitude towards her someday smoking herself. Thoughts of
what she would do with this information began to form in her mind as the
evening went on.

As midnight approached, the TV in the family room was tuned to Dick Clark's
New Year's show from New York City. At the stroke of midnight, everyone
shouted "Happy New Year!" mixed in with a few cries of "Welcome to the 80s!".
The men all kissed the women, and Kate was the recipient of a kiss from her
dad, which she liked, and also one from one her folks' slightly tipsy male
friends, which she didn't appreciate so much. That made her flee upstairs to
the kitchen where she began busying herself brewing coffee for the
soon-to-depart crowd and getting ready to present the last of the party food
for the night.  

She turned to see Anne weave her way somewhat unsteadily into the kitchen,
holding a glass of champagne and a freshly-lit cigarette in one hand and an
opened bottle of champagne in the other. "Hi honey," she said, her words only
slightly slurred. "I really want to thank you for everything you've done
tonight. You've done a great job," she said.

"That's OK, mom," Kate replied. "It's fun. I like doing it."

"Well, I really appreciate it," Anne said. "Did you get any champagne at

"No," Kate answered. "Just a kiss from Frank Wilson. Yecch." Kate made a face
and Anne laughed.

"He's harmless, I think," Anne said. "And I know he's drunk, so that's
probably why that happened.  Don't worry about him. Would you like a little
bubbly to celebrate with? You deserve it."

"OK, sure," Kate said, grinning. 

She watched as Anne retrieved a clean flute and poured a little for her.
Handing her the glass, Anne held out her own for a toast. "Happy New Year,
honey," she said. "Cheers." They clinked glasses and each drank a little of
the champagne. Kate had tasted it before so she knew what to expect. It
wasn't her favorite thing, but she liked it better than some of the things
others were drinking. "What do you think of it?," Anne asked as she saw Kate
empty her glass of the little she had poured for her. "Would you like a bit

"That would be nice, yeah," Kate said with a grin. As Anne started to pour it
into her glass, something
- maybe the champagne, but more likely the punch she had earlier - made her
  blurt something out that she would never had believed she would have been
able to say earlier in the day. "But you know what I'd really like?"

"What's that?," Anne asked.

Kate nervously took a small sip of the champagne, which might have lubricated
her thought process even more. "That," she said, grinning mischievously,
pointing at her mom's long cigarette. "I've always wanted to try a puff.
Could I?"

Anne stood silently for a moment, her face revealing nothing. Then she
glanced around the kitchen just to make sure it was deserted. With all the
guests downstairs, it was just the two of them. Finally she smiled, and
responded, "What the hell. OK. You ever try this before?," she asked. Kate
shook her head negatively. "All right then. Don't inhale, just hold it in
your mouth and then blow it out. Here, go ahead," she said, turning her hand
around and holding the cigarette for Kate. She moved it closer and Kate
sealed her lips around the filter and began to draw smoke into her mouth.
After a couple of seconds Anne moved it away. 

Kate held the puff in her mouth for a few seconds, then clumsily blew out the
uninhaled smoke. It didn't taste quite as good as she thought it would - in
fact, he wasn't sure she liked it at all - and it made her mouth water
uncontrollably. She took a breath, and took another sip of the champagne to
kill the taste. "Wow," she said.

"Not what you expected?," Anne asked.

"I guess not," Kate said. "It really made my mouth water."

"I remember I had the same problem at first," Anne said. She then began a
long drag and inhaled deeply. After holding it in for a few seconds, Anne
performed a slow, deliberate exhale from her nose and mouth.

Kate watched, and suddenly emboldened, asked, "Is it hard to do that?"

"To do what?"

"What you just did... breathing it in and then blowing it out like that."

"It takes a little getting used to," Anne said. "The first time I tried it I
nearly choked because I didn't know what to expect. But you get over that
pretty quick." She knew what was coming next.

"Do you think I could try it?," Kate asked. "It looks so cool."
Anne grinned at her daughter's boldness if nothing else. The alcohol she had
consumed disarmed her and it seemed almost like a game for her. Yet she knew
that this could be a defining moment for Kate.  She could be repulsed and
never smoke again, or it could be the first of many more, perhaps even a
lifetime smoking habit. But true to her earlier statement downstairs, she
wanted to be a part of it either way. "Be my guest," she said, offering the
cigarette. "But you're going to have to hold it yourself."

Kate gingerly took the cigarette away from her mother and held it gently
between her fingertips. She looked at it in her hand for a few seconds,
getting a feel for it and watching the smoke curl from the end. She was about
to try it before she heard her mother offer her some advice. "Don't take a
very big puff for your first time," Anne offered. "Just take some smoke into
your mouth, then open your mouth and inhale real quick," she advised. "You'll
probably feel like you want to cough, but try not to. Hold it in for a second
or two, then blow it out slow - that'll help keep you from coughing."

Kate nodded, and moved the long cigarette to her lips. She began her puff,
and Anne could see the end of the cigarette begin to glow orange. After a
tentative 2 seconds, she pulled the filter away and held the smoke in her
mouth for a split-second. Then, as per her mom's advice, she opened her mouth
and quickly inhaled.

The smoke felt harsh as it hit the back of her throat and made its way to her
lungs. Kate felt a cough reflex briefly, but that passed as her throat
cleared and her lungs received the smoke. She felt a jolt shoot thru her body
as she held the smoke inside, a sensation that simultaneously travelled up
her back to her head and down her back to between her legs. It felt so
wonderful that she forgot to stop inhaling, and she pulled the smoke in even
deeper. Finally, she realized she had to exhale and she began to breathe out
slowly. Again, she felt the urge to cough, but the smoke had been smoothed by
it's visit to her lungs and she was able to resist as she saw a soft, diluted
stream flow from between her lips. She was even able to direct it sideways a
little near the end as she completed her first exhale.

"Omigod... holy cow," Kate said breathlessly, feeling flushed. She handed the
cigarette back to her mom. "That was incredible," she said hoarsely, taking a
deep breath.

"You did pretty good," Anne said. "Not even a cough. Are you sure you never
did this before"

"Never, mom. I swear," Kate replied. "I just did it the way you said. It

"OK, then, missy. I'm glad it wasn't a bad experience for you. That's all for
tonight, I think. Now, don't say a word to anyone about this, OK?," Anne
asked, and Kate nodded in agreement. "Happy New Year, honey," she said,
wrapping an arm around Kate and pulling her close. Kate hugged her mom and
thought that she was the greatest mom in the world.

That night when Kate went to bed, she lay there and reflected on her
experience. A few hours earlier she had no thoughts of smoking tonight. Now,
after being the beneficiary of the circumstances that led to her trying it,
she knew more than ever that she wanted to smoke like her mom. It felt both
good and bad at the same time, but the good outweighed the bad by a huge
margin because the feeling she had when she breathed in the smoke was just
incredible. She thought about that feeling and realized at least part of what
it was all about. In the darkness of her room she moved her hand under the
covers to the spot between her legs and began to pleasure herself. It was
something she had discovered a year or so ago and she now masturbated almost
daily. Her mind thought back to her smoking experience and as she continued
to manipulate herself, her free hand began to pantomime smoking a cigarette.
After a few imitation puff-and-inhales, her mind free-associating, she pushed
herself over the edge and climaxed as strongly as she ever had before. It was
quite a happy New Year indeed, and, unbeknownst to her, it marked the last of
her smoke-free days for decades to come.

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