Pygmalion, Part 5

The following story is fictional and is provided solely for the enjoyment 
of its readers. While there are references to actual establishments such as 
major corporations, smaller companies, restaurants and locations, the 
characters in the story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to a real 
person either living or dead is completely coincidental. Several 
non-fictional characters (celebrities) make brief cameo appearances. Their 
role is purely fictional and no way linked to their actual lives. This 
fictional account does contain adult language and themes. If such language 
and themes offend you, please read no further. This story is copyrighted by 
AZ-MAN, 2000, all rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce it 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. 



A final thanks - to SSTORYMAN for his support, guidance and friendship. 

Should you have any comments, please feel free to respond to 
azman2k@yahoo.com. 





PYGMALION 
Part 5 of 10 


10. Regarding Hank 

William Henry Graham had been married only once in his 49 years and it 
lasted just a short 22 months. He and his wife had been law students at 
Georgetown University in Washington DC and were both 23 at the time. It was 
1973. Vietnam was winding down and Watergate was not yet a household word. 
Both Hank and his girlfriend Marla had been activists on the campus and 
fell in love with each other's passion for causes and intellectual 
achievements. Hank soon found out the depth of those things alone were not 
enough to sustain a relationship. Those things plus the fact that he caught 
Marla in their bed in the married dormitory in the midst of what turned out 
to be one of her many lesbian trysts. 

Hank was initially attracted to Marla because she smoked. Hell, everyone 
did back in the sixties and seventies. She later quit during their brief 
marriage which at first broke Hank's heart but he maintained his composure 
because he felt at the time this odd sexual attraction he had to female 
smokers was simply a passing fancy. Marla had been a great smoker, too. She 
knew how to French inhale which was a personal favorite of Hank's. She also 
knew how to blow smoke-rings and she snap-inhaled every puff without even 
thinking about it. When they were dating, she would sometimes drive Hank 
wild simply by sitting across from him behind her stack of books wearing 
her round glasses and smoking without ever showing a visible exhale. Her 
puffs were continual and her inhales deep. But only on occasion Hank would 
see traces of smoke leave her body via her nostrils when she was deep in 
thought. And she was great in bed. They were young, hot lovers and they 
shared some of the best sex ever - especially after Hank had been driven to 
madness by first getting to watch her smoke. 

Then it all ended one day in 1975. Actually it coincided with the day the 
FBI found Patty Hurst and arrested her for alleged involvement with the SLA 
and committing armed bank robbery. Hank remembered it well. He and Marla 
both had been following the case and were mild sympathizers for Patty and 
her newfound cause. Hank had just heard the AP Wire flash in the student 
union and bolted back to their dorm to break the news. When he finally got 
the door opened, his only words to his startled wife and her coed companion 
were, "Marla, how could you?" 

Their marriage was annulled quickly and Marla disappeared. He never saw her 
again. Hank went on to finish his law degree but became isolated and 
distant with most of the people he'd met - men or women. Hank was liberal 
in his political convictions and a sensitive, caring soul so most people 
making his acquaintance naturally assumed he was gay once they found out he 
wasn't married. And this assumption appeared to be substantiated by his 
association with Douglas Duritz. Doug had found Hank at an exhibit in the 
National Art Museum shortly before Hank left Washington for good in 1980. 
President Reagan had just been elected and Hank figured it was time for him 
to take his law degree and liberal causes to a new part of the country. 
Doug was still a student at Georgetown but was also interested in leaving 
the area and transferring to another school. The two of them left town 
together (fueling further rumors about Hank's gay lifestyle) with plans to 
make California but they stopped short and settled for Arizona. Doug 
immediately enrolled at ASU and Hank joined a firm specializing in criminal 
law but later got on with a corporate firm that represented many of the new 
companies springing up in the wake of "Reagan-omics". 

As time passed, Hank found himself yearning for the company of a female 
companion. He hadn't truly dated since his split with Marla. There were a 
few 'arranged' dates with some women at his firm set up by a busybody, 
self-appointed matchmaker. When these dates failed to produce a continual 
relationship, the rumors started flying about Hank's sexual orientation 
that further enhanced his detachment and lack of social involvement. 

It was ironic that it was Doug who eventually led Hank back to seeing women 
again - women of a different sort. Doug had long since given up on Hank as 
being gay but the two remained close friends nonetheless. On a whim, Doug 
talked Hank into flying up to Las Vegas one weekend to see a show and visit 
one of Doug's old school acquaintances. Hank was still socially reticent 
and it took a lot of prying on Doug's part just to get him to come. So it 
seemed natural that he wanted to be left alone while Doug and his gay 
friend went off to see Wayne Newton that evening. He was having 
reservations about coming at all until he went down to the bar in the new 
Mirage hotel and had a few beers by himself. Soon, Hank was being 
entertained simply by watching the myriad of female smokers that surrounded 
him while sipping his suds. Some were with men; some were not. It didn't 
really matter. Before long, Hank was entertaining a lovely, classy young 
blond at his table who merely came up and introduced herself because she 
noticed his staring. Hank was not slow on the uptake but this time it 
probably took him a bit longer than the average Joe to realize that this 
blond, Kitty, was a high-class prostitute. She was dressed in a 
tight-fitting black leather skirt, silk blouse, black boots and a 
lightweight but expensive fur coat. She wore large hoop earrings and had 
glossy-white painted lips. But best of all, she was smoking a freshly lit 
Eve Menthol Lights 120. She didn't look cheap to Hank. And in fact, she 
wasn't. By the time he had cut his first deal ever with an expensive Las 
Vegas hooker, Hank was out more than $800 for four hours. 

But, oh was she worth it. Kitty and others like her were no ordinary pros. 
They were gorgeous, model-quality women. Hank didn't just make love to 
Kitty. He first enjoyed her company by going to dinner and smoking with her 
as a prelude. But once he had her back in his room, they did everything 
together. She had told him, "Just tell me when and where you want me to 
smoke." Her exact words! First, he had her undress and she smoked for him 
in the nude. He massaged her shoulders, her breasts and her vagina while he 
watched. Finally, when he felt that she was nice and moist and she had 
finished her cigarette, they moved to the bed and he slid inside her 
effortlessly. The whole experience was such a rush that he came in only a 
few minutes. The second time they did it, Kitty smoked for him while she 
lay on her stomach in bed. Hank was able to take her from behind while she 
moaned in pleasure between her full, rich puffs from her long cigarette. 
When it was time for her to leave, he paid the amount they talked about and 
even threw in an extra hundred as a tip. 

It wasn't long before Hank was making regular trips to Vegas. And he always 
asked for Kitty. After many 'conjugal' visits, Kitty got to know his exact 
likes and dislikes and found just the right combination of smoking and 
sexual contact to delight his senses. She earned every penny of her $1200 a 
night and Hank paid it at least twice a month. 

But as in any profession, prostitution being no exception, Kitty moved on 
without leaving any word or forwarding address. Hank was crushed and it 
took him almost three months to get the nerve to travel back to Vegas and 
ask for one of her associates. He was soon fixed up with a gal named Jolene 
- Jo-Jo to her friends and paying customers. After several visits with 
Jo-Jo, Hank realized a nirvana he never imagined. Jo-Jo buried Kitty in her 
performance and smoking mannerisms. She smoked with relaxed style and ease, 
yet when she wanted to or when Hank needed her to, Jo-Jo would perform any 
smoking trick or feat in the book. Her favorite brand was full-flavor 
Benson and Hedges Menthol. "Melanie Griffith's brand," she'd say. Jo-Jo 
looked like Melanie. She even talked like her. Her feats included being 
able to take ten-second draws on her rich B&H, inhale the creamy smoke then 
follow up with a second, and then feed her entire sweet menthol exhale into 
Hank as he lay below her and buried inside her. Sometimes she'd have to do 
it with two cigarettes simultaneously so the smoke would remain cool. This 
became his favorite position. And Jo-Jo made it look like she enjoyed every 
minute of it. She would moan after the 10-second hit on her cigarette. She 
would grind her pelvis into his as she held the smoke deep inside. After 
she cleared her exhale and Hank had the smoke resting in his lungs, she'd 
rock harder and harder until he'd come deep inside her. 

Oh, this was paradise. Hank was hooked and there was no turning back. He 
saw Jo-Jo for the better part of a year. Money was no problem. Hank had 
taken substantial chunks of his salary, and with the help of his family and 
some very short-term loans was able to cash in on several well-timed, 
lucrative stock transactions that made him a very wealthy man during the 
eighties and nineties. Microsoft, Philip Morris and later United Parcel and 
Motorola all became part of his diverse portfolio guaranteeing his 
financial future beyond even the biggest lotto jackpot. In 1993, his 
estimated net worth exceeded $500 million. 

Then Hank began to develop a problem. Not a financial problem but at the 
height of it all, Hank had wished, even prayed that it could've been 
financial. No, his problem was much worse. It was sexual. After more than 
25 visits with Jo-Jo, and poor Jo-Jo doing everything she could, Hank 
became sexually impotent. As he later described it to Doug, he had taken 
the roller coaster to its highest point. He had ridden it down and all over 
the track until the sensation was gone and he was numb. Like a rat that 
keeps pushing the button in his cage to receive more and more pleasurable 
electrical stimulation, Hank pressed Kitty and Jo-Jo for everything they 
could give. And in the end, he couldn't get it up no matter what Jo-Jo did. 
All his fantasies were gone - they had become reality. Hank realized he was 
a goner when her smoky blow jobs could no longer make him hard. They tried 
lotions, 'magic potions' and even herbal 'cures'. Nothing could do the 
trick for poor Hank in this pre-Viagra era. 

Then almost by chance Hank got to know Stevie Nicks in 1990. They met at a 
Habitat for Humanity charity luncheon hosted by the local chapter at the 
Biltmore. Many celebrities that lived in the Phoenix valley turned out, 
including Paul Harvey, Alice Cooper, Leslie Neilson of Naked Gun fame and 
of course the lovely Ms. Stevie Nicks. Hank was never one to schmooze with 
the rich and famous but when Stevie and he literally bumped into each other 
in the lobby of the Arizona Biltmore, it started a friendship that lasted 
almost four years. After apologizing, Hank offered what he thought later 
was a lame compliment on her recent "The Other Side of the Mirror" CD that 
had just been released. Stevie was in a rare jovial mood and she took 
quickly to Hank's sensitive, shy-guy wit and soul. They chatted for almost 
30 minutes and quickly discovered they were practically neighbors. Soon, 
she and Hank were having private lunches at either his place or hers. They 
talked about everything under the sun. Stevie found him quite refreshing 
after years of the more macho, rock music 'roadies' and band members that 
flocked around her at performances and during tours. She was still 
recovering from her treatments at the Betty Ford Center and Hank proved to 
be just the medicine that she needed most. She cherished his friendship. 
But things eventually changed and their relationship, which was thankfully 
never picked up by the tabloids, just sort of faded away. Stevie was 
getting busy with an upcoming reunion with the other Fleetwood Mac members 
(which ultimately produced "The Dance" in 1997) and was starting to venture 
out on the road more. She and Hank never knew or planned that one of the 
treasured lunches they shared was going to turn out to be their last. Hank 
was saddened when he realized he may never see her again but in a very 
special way, he was indebted to her immeasurably. 

When Stevie had returned from Betty Ford to finally rid herself of the 
years of drug use and dependency, she managed to hang on to one little 
habit to help her through the transition. She continued to smoke but only 
in the privacy of her own home and then, later in Hank's home. They'd share 
a long lunch spending hours together and Stevie would smoke from the time 
she arrived until it was time to go back home. She admitted that she was 
down from her high of three packs a day to only one and she also did a good 
job hiding the fact that she still smoked from the public. But it was 
during one of these lunches, as Hank watched the beautiful Stevie Nicks let 
large volumes of smoke flow from her lips that he noticed perhaps he was 
healing from his own crazy Las Vegas sex binges. For when he and she had 
embraced at the end of one of their meetings and he smelled the pungent but 
sweet aroma of smoke on her hair and breath, he felt a familiar sensation 
down below that he hadn't felt in years. 







11. Smoking 101 



Doug Duritz hated it when people were late. He was always on time for any 
planned event, whether it was a job interview or a simple recreational game 
of chess. He thought he'd judged Beth as being like him in this regard. Now 
he was standing outside her front door ringing the bell and no one seemed 
to be home. He looked at his watch again - 9:30 AM. "Oh Beth, oh Beth, come 
home, come home," he chanted to himself. His car was still idling nearby 
ready to whisk them to Hank's for her planned 'meeting'. 

As he was about to turn to leave, he spotted her about 30 yards away coming 
up one of the complex's common sidewalks. She looked angry or worried. From 
the distance, he couldn't tell which. When she was in range, Doug spoke. 
"THERE you are! All ready to head out?" he asked, already anticipating a 
negative reply. 

"What? What are you talking about, Doug?" She looked annoyed. 

"You know. Hank's place, 10 AM, Saturday. I left you some reminders. 
Remember?" Doug hadn't actually seen her since the night he dropped her off 
at her condo but he'd left several voice messages on her machine to be 
ready at 9:30 sharp. 

"No, I don't remember. Look Doug, my phone's been out of order for almost 
three days and I left my cell phone at work. That's where I was just now - 
making a phone call from the clubhouse. I may end up having to go to work 
later on anyway." She was sounding very stressed. 

"Oh. Well, if you've made commitments at work then...well, I guess..." Doug 
was willing to let her off the hook but he couldn't help but add, "The 
least you could've done was let me know. Didn't you get my messages?" 

Beth felt she couldn't evade or stall any longer. "Uh, yeah, I got 'em," 
she said, looking down at the grass. Then she turned her gaze on Doug. "You 
know Doug, I've been thinking about all this. Isn't this a strange way for 
Hank to ask me for a date? I mean, telling me I have to see him at 10 AM 
sharp on a Saturday at his house. Isn't that a little weird?" 

Doug smiled and sighed at the same time. "Oh Beth, come now...this isn't a 
date. We talked about it on the car ride home, remember?" 

Beth showed a tiny smile in return. She was embarrassed. She hardly 
remembered any of the conversations after her second martini. She did 
remember kissing Hank and trying her very first cigarette with him that 
evening. It was nice. But Beth thought this peculiar - she wasn't 
embarrassed specifically by kissing Hank or even trying a cigarette but was 
embarrassed by the fact that she couldn't remember much of what they'd 
talked about. Doug could tell her anything about the car ride home or what 
she said to Hank on his porch and she'd have to believe every word. 

"Doug, if the truth be known, I honestly don't remember talking about 
anything on the ride home. I thought I slept through most of it." Beth 
looked at her watch and gave a tug at the wristband. She was actually 
hoping for some detail about their talk but purposely appeared distracted. 

Doug noticed the watch gesture and followed her game. "Well, no matter. You 
must need to get off to work. I admire your dedication to want to go to 
work on a Saturday. Motorola is very lucky to have you. And don't worry 
about our meeting. I'll explain to Hank." Doug pivoted on his heels. "I'm 
off then." 

As she saw Doug step away, something inside tugged at her and shouted, 
'No!' Even though the last few hours at Hank's sped by in a blur, Beth had 
residual good feelings about the entire evening. She lay in bed the 
following morning not being able to recall much dialog, but she did 
remember the warm glow she felt being in Hank's arms and kissing him. He 
radiated confidence and understanding. She felt he truly understood the 
complexities of her womanhood and personality like no one else. For that 
reason she trusted him. It took a split second for her to realize this. 
"Wait! I'm coming. Just give me a sec," she cried. 

Doug was pleased. He'd taken a small gamble with his bluff to leave and it 
worked. "Great. Take all the time you need." He looked at his watch. "Just 
be in my car in three minutes." He gave her a big grin. 

Beth smiled back and quickly darted into her condo. She was getting 
nervous. 



When they had driven through the gate and pulled into Hank's large 
driveway, Beth noticed several cars parked in the loop that suggested there 
were other visitors. When she queried Doug, he vaguely explained it away as 
if to say, don't worry about it. 

Beth was surprised that Hank was not at the front door to greet her as she 
fully expected when they arrived. Instead, she was quickly led to a suite 
of rooms in a separate building for overnight guests near the main home. 
Before he disappeared, Doug called it a casita - Spanish for small house. 
Now she was alone in this 'casita' wondering what the hell was going on. 

The rooms were very nicely appointed. There was a living / dining area, a 
small kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom with a king-size bed and a full 
bathroom. As she looked around, Beth hoped this wasn't some sort of 
adolescent plan of Hank's to seduce her right here in broad daylight. If 
so, she was way off base with this guy. She reminded herself to be 
confident that Hank wasn't this transparent. But nonetheless, sitting there 
alone let her mind dream up all kinds of scenarios. However, as observant 
and thoughtful as Beth was, she never could've dreamed up a scenario as odd 
as the one about to unfold. 

"Knock, knock," a female voice spoke. 

Beth looked at the front door and only saw a hand holding it ajar. Whoever 
it was didn't want to enter until she knew it was safe to do so. "Yes? It's 
okay. Come on in," Beth said to the stranger she could not yet see. 

When the woman behind the door revealed herself, Beth did a quick double 
take. She was exceedingly beautiful. She had thick, shoulder length blond 
hair, a terrific figure and was wearing an expensive yet casual ensemble 
that she probably picked up at Saks or Neiman-Marcus. Beth also smelled a 
fresh trace of perfume in the air. But above all, Beth recognized this 
woman. 

"Hello, Beth," spoke the woman in her low, soft voice. 

"Hello, Cynthia," Beth replied, politely surprised. "What's going on?" she 
asked innocently. 

Without so much as a smile, Cynthia got right down to business. "Are you 
ready to get started?" 

Beth felt thrown for a loop. First, she thought she was here to see Hank 
(where is he anyhow?) and now this Cynthia walks in and wants to get 
started? Started doing what? Beth replied, "I'm sorry. What are we 
starting?" 

Cynthia paused appearing flustered. "What do you mean, 'what are we 
starting'? I'm here to..." then she noticed Beth's blank stare, "...to, oh 
God, you don't know do you?" 

"No," she said firmly. "Apparently not." 

Now Cynthia was upset. She quickly walked over to the phone on the kitchen 
counter and tapped out four numbers on its pad. When the other end picked 
up, Beth heard her say, "It's Cyn. He needs to come down here right 
now...no, I'm not starting until she knows...NO, she doesn't know...uh 
huh...uh huh...fine." Cynthia hung up and turned to Beth. "Someone'll be 
down shortly. I may see you later on. Okay?" She moved towards the front 
door. 

Beth erupted. "NO, it's NOT okay! Just what the hell's happening here? I'm 
supposed to see Hank. Didn't anyone tell you that? I don't understand ANY 
of what's happened to me since I got out of Doug's car." 

Cynthia wanted nothing to do with the argument Beth was trying to start. 
She just wanted to exit until someone either straightened this mess out or 
sent Beth home. She didn't care which. "I said someone's coming. Just wait 
here." She made a second attempt to turn the doorknob to leave. 

"Goddamn it! If I don't see Hank in about two minutes, I'm leaving. Do you 
hear? I'm leaving!" Beth suddenly realized she had no way of getting home 
by herself. 

Cynthia just gave her a ho-hum, I-could-care-less look when the front door 
pushed open and bumped into her in the rump. 

It was Hank, and his timing couldn't have been better. As he passed through 
the opened door Cynthia quickly squirted out and left. "Beth," he greeted, 
"it's good to see you again. What's happening?" 

At first, Beth was overjoyed to see him. He was like a genie coming out of 
a bottle to rescue her just as she evoked his name. Then she got mad when 
she actually felt she needed to be rescued in the first place. "Hank! I, I 
don't understand. This is completely..." 

He put his finger up to his lips. "Shhh. It's okay. It's okay. I messed up. 
It's my fault. I'm sorry. Let me explain." He directed her over to the 
loveseat and they sat down. "Remember the other night? When we talked about 
finding that perfect balance in life?" He was being careful not to say how 
he was going to teach her this in five easy lessons, at least not yet. 

"Yes." It was a little fuzzy but Beth thought she could remember. 

"Good. And remember we talked about how I could help you find that 
balance?" 

"Yes." Beth knew she was being set up for something but was not quite sure 
what. 

"Well, I guess the big question is, are you still interested?" 

"Interested in what? I thought I was coming over to see you. Isn't that 
what this is all about?" Beth said, pressing him to get to the point. 

"It certainly is. But let me put it another way. The other night you spoke 
of wanting to be able to cut loose, to relax, to do things like your 
friends but also do the things that are still important to you." 

"So...." 

"So, I want to help teach you the first part. You already know the second 
part." Hank smiled warmly then reached over to rub her shoulders. "Once you 
know both parts, I think you'll be a happier person, Beth." 

She was enjoying the shoulder rub. She closed her eyes and spoke, "Okay, so 
how are you going to teach me?" She was smiling thinking about how she 
might enjoy his little game. She had no way of knowing the 'game' involved 
many people and was anything but little. 

"Well, that depends. Before we start, you need to be sure that this is what 
you really want. You need to commit yourself completely and for the time, 
forget about the stuff that's been important to you until now. Are you 
willing to do this?" 

Beth thought carefully and reflected on her recent past. A collage of 
seductive images filled her head: her best friend Pam smoking a cigarette 
in Chili's; Heather on the patio smoking; being with Hank alone in his home 
that night; of their dinner out, and her in her bed the morning following 
her visit at Hank's basking in a warm after-glow. In contrast, there were 
also the images of her security violation at work, her boss John 
threatening to fire her, and her terrible fight with Heather. But mostly 
there were the images of all the lonely nights she'd come home late from 
the office, either too tired to work out or too depressed to make dinner 
and eat it alone for the umpteenth time. She'd needed a change but was too 
fatigued and set in her ways to realize how to do it. "Yes, I'm willing," 
she finally said with a weary smile. 



Hank smiled. He explained very persuasively and carefully that he was about 
to ask Cynthia to step back in and that he was going to leave them alone. 
He told her to do exactly as Cynthia instructed but if there were any 
questions, to ring him on the phone from the casita. Then he kissed her 
tenderly on the forehead and left. 

Cynthia walked through the door. She was smiling this time. Not much of a 
smile, but Beth thought it was a big improvement over her previous 
entrance. He probably told her to smile, she guessed. 

"Ready?" Cynthia asked expectantly. 

"Ready," Beth said, returning her grin. 

Cynthia looked into Beth's eyes. "Hank told me I need to tell you what this 
first lesson is all about. Since you seem to not have a clue, I'll just 
tell you as directly as I know how. I'm here to teach you to smoke." 

Beth's grin went straight to astonishment. She laughed and said, "Excuse 
me?" 

Cynthia expected another horrendous outburst. When it didn't come, she 
asked, "Are you up for it?" Cynthia herself certainly was. It'd been close 
to 45 minutes since her last cigarette. 

Beth remained passive but asked, "Why? I'm not planning on taking up 
smoking." 

"We're not expecting you to take up smoking Beth. The lessons are so you 
can do it with assurance and not look like a beginner. That's very 
important." 

"Important for what?" 

"Important as part of the total image, if you will, that we are going to 
create for you. In certain situations socially, it will be very important 
for you to smoke. And again, there's no point in doing it if you're going 
to look like a fledging teenager." Having said that, Cynthia reached into 
her purse pulled out one of her full-flavor Virginia Slims Menthols and 
placed it between her full lips. Before Beth could speak, Cynthia had lit 
it and in a rare miss, accidentally let the ball of smoke she was supposed 
to French inhale slip past her nose and rapidly expand towards the ceiling. 
"Hey, come back here," she said, as if she could command it. She quickly 
took another long drag and this time caught every wisp of smoke in one very 
efficient, veteran move. As she let the smoke out slowly and evenly through 
her mouth, she noticed Beth staring. This was good. "Beth, I want you to 
just continue watching me for now. If you'd like, I'll explain what I'm 
doing. Okay?" 

"Okay." Beth remained unusually quiet. 

Cynthia took another long, slow pull from her cigarette that lasted almost 
five seconds. Instead of showing Beth another French inhale, she let the 
ball of smoke protrude from her mouth. It bowed out in a large arc and hung 
there for about a tenth of a second. But just as it was about to get away, 
she sucked every bit right back into her mouth and sent it down to her 
impatient lungs. Very naturally she let the smoke alternate from her nose 
to her mouth during the exhale. 

Beth watched as instructed. She noticed Cynthia was very comfortable with 
her cigarette and was not intimidated to try anything. If I'd done what she 
just did, I'd be flat on my back right now, Beth reminded herself. Cynthia 
seemed to smoke in slow motion. Her mannerisms moved at half-speed and the 
rich, un-inhaled smoke would first rise from her mouth and, if she wanted 
it to, would appear suspended between her nose and upper lip before it 
began a slow trickle inside her nostrils. To Beth, it was a light, 
entertaining show. She imagined that no one would actually smoke this way 
in public. Nonetheless, Beth did admit to herself that it looked fun. 

Cynthia spoke between a continual set of long puffs. "Are you getting all 
this? Do you see what I'm doing?" Heavy streams of already-inhaled smoke 
were slowly being pushed from either her mouth or nose or both 
simultaneously. Then, after another dense ball of smoke was sent into her 
lungs, Cynthia said in a throaty voice, "Now I want to give you some of my 
smoke. Are you ready?" 

Having watched her inhale so much smoke already with only a small fraction 
come out, Beth imagined a picture of the creamy white stuff swirling in 
this beautiful woman's lungs. Beth understood the question. Just like she 
allowed Hank to do the other night, she leaned over, not quite a quarter 
inch from Cynthia's lips and breathed in deeply. She closed her eyes and 
figured she must be receiving smoke from at least three of Cynthia's last 
puffs. It had been hard to keep track. During the last several minutes, it 
had been difficult for her to discern which exhale went with which inhale. 
It all sort of blended together and now the smoky mass was ending up in 
Beth's relatively virgin lungs. It tasted sweet and moist having already 
been mixed with Cynthia's breath. When Beth had secured most of the smoke, 
she pulled away and pursed her lips. Unlike the other night, she paid close 
attention to what came from her body as she exhaled steadily. They both 
leaned back on the loveseat and watched the streams from their mouths 
collide and mingle. 

Cynthia spoke definitively, "We're going to do it again." There was still 
residual smoke coming from her mouth as she talked. She took a long puff on 
her quickly waning VS, snap inhaled and leaned back towards Beth. This 
time, as the exchange ended, their lips touched. 

Beth wasn't sure if it was an accident, but thought it was a nice touch as 
she sat back with a second load of Cynthia's smoke resting in her lungs. 
Beth finally spoke, "You know, this tastes so good. Much better than all 
the years I just smelled it." Even after only two secondhand inhales, Beth 
felt mellow and jittery at the same time. 

Cynthia smiled and took a final puff from her cigarette before stubbing it 
out in the coffee table ashtray. She quickly pushed her exhale to the 
ceiling, reached down and pulled out a fresh VS Menthol. Within seconds, 
she was smoking again. Beth was amazed at the stamina of this stunning 
woman as she stared at the fresh cigarette. 

There was no talking this time. After Cynthia had filled her lungs again 
with three long puffs and only trace exhales, she leaned over and repeated 
the process with Beth. They continued their exchanges until Beth had soaked 
in four separate inhales. Cynthia was like a giant smoking machine. She 
always had smoke in her lungs ready for the taking. After Beth would push a 
loose stream from her lips, she'd go back to the well and draw in some 
more. The women smoked in the silence of the room - each acted like she 
knew what she was doing and no conversation was necessary. Cynthia insured 
that there was always a fresh supply of smoke in her lungs and Beth just 
took it whenever she liked. 

Still, when Cynthia finally put out her second cigarette, both girls 
thought the room was spinning. For her part, Cynthia hadn't been this 
buzzed in years. Making sure she always had smoke inside her over the last 
ten minutes caused even her to have that 'beginner' feeling. 

"Whoa, I can't believe I did that," marveled Beth after the many inhales of 
Cynthia's smoke. 

"Neither can I. I got carried away with the moment I think," confessed 
Cynthia. 

"Carried away?" 

Cynthia laughed. "Yeah, look." She pursed her lips and they both saw a thin 
amount of smoke continue to leave her body. "I don't know where it's coming 
from. I put the second cigarette out almost a minute ago. 

When Beth saw this she playfully leaned back over to Cynthia and said, 
"Then let me have some." 

Cynthia gave one final push but little or no smoke came out this time. Both 
girls laughed as if they were mildly drunk. The small casita living room 
was filled with a heavy, smoky haze. As Beth breathed in, she thought it 
smelled wonderful. Most of it was the smoke they'd exhaled from their 
mouths and it still remained sweet and pleasant. 

"Are you ready to try one on your own Beth? 

Now this was a completely new proposition. She was a bit nervous to 
actually hold a cigarette and smoke it from start to finish. Beth showed an 
embarrassed smile. "I don't know. I suppose that's next, huh?" 

Cynthia understood her reticence. "I tell you what. Let's step outside for 
a sec and get some fresh air." Cynthia was the one that really needed it. 
She had never taken in that much smoke in that short a period in her seven 
years with the habit - even several years ago when her addiction hovered at 
two packs a day. She suspected she was just showing off in the presence of 
this 'Hank's flavor of the month' girl. 

They stepped out on the casita's small patio between the main house and the 
rising mountain peak that went up another several hundred feet from Hank's 
lot. Normally, Cynthia would've lit another cigarette but she held back. 
They had a lot more smoking to do and right now her nicotine overload meter 
was still in the yellow zone. Still, she felt so conditioned by years of 
smoking that she caught herself automatically lifting her purse flap and 
grabbing her pack as they walked from inside to the patio. 

Beth was glad they'd stopped the lesson for a few moments. She wanted to 
ask Cynthia some questions that had been nagging her since her lunch with 
Pam, her discussions with Deb and the recent experience with Heather. 
"Cynthia, if I ask you an off-the-wall question, will you be completely 
straight with me?" 

"You mean about smoking?" 

"Uh huh." 

"Certainly," she replied. Cynthia wasn't prepared to give answers about 
every topic, but smoking was the main reason she was here today. She was 
Hank's 'professional'. 

"Why is it important that I learn it? I feel like smoking is slowly losing 
popularity in our mainstream culture. I mean, look what's happening in 
California. Other states are soon to follow. Pretty soon they'll be no 
place in the US that will allow smoking indoors. Then what happens to this 
'social scene' that you're preparing me for?" 

Cynthia thought about her question. She wasn't certain she could give a 
lucid reply. But she responded. "The basis for your question is sound, but 
you're getting hung up on the word 'mainstream'. While it's true that you 
don't see mothers and fathers with small children smoking much anymore, at 
least in public, and you don't see the big billboards and advertisements in 
magazines targeting this consumer group anymore, smoking is still strong in 
America. Trust me. We're not smoking as much but I guarantee you there's a 
sub-culture with fragments of these same mothers, soccer moms, teachers and 
even weekend athletes that go to bars and other social settings and smoke. 
I know for a fact, because I see it all the time. Yes, Beth, despite 
government propaganda and near-harassment tactics used by anti-smoking 
groups, smoking is still cool by any generation's standards, be it the 
Boomers, Gen X, Y or even Z. We just don't proclaim it or admit it anymore. 
We just do it." She paused. "How's that for an answer?" 

Beth seemed to understand and while this was somewhat enlightening, she 
still didn't have a complete picture. "Okay. Let me ask you this: Is my 
smoking going to turn men on? Is it going to make me a better lover? Is it 
going to make me more noticeable in a bar or restaurant?" Beth could see 
Cynthia wanted to answer but continued, "Let me finish. The reason I ask is 
I've had lots of hints from others that the answer to all my questions is 
yes. Is it normal in the groups you run in for a man and a woman to make 
love while she smokes for him? Do men really go wild for this? Are all men 
wired this way in some fashion?" 

Cynthia just started laughing. 

"What? Is there really something I don't know?" Beth was acting confused so 
Cynthia would take her seriously. 

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help but laugh. You're a regular fire hose with all 
your questions, aren't you?" 

"Come on Cynthia. I need to know before we go any further. Like I said, I 
have my own ideas but I need to discuss them with someone. It all sounds 
too bizarre to me when I arrive at these conclusions by myself." 

"What are your conclusions?" Cynthia asked, leading her on. 

"Well...I think that, well...like I said, the answers to all my questions 
are pretty much a yes." 

"What if I told you that I agree with your yes?" 

Beth grinned. "I knew it. I just knew it. It does all make sense based on 
what I've pieced together up till now, doesn't it? I just can't fathom it 
though. All the evidence points to it but I still don't get it." 

"That's because you're a woman. Fetishes are 'guy' things." 

"That's right. That's just what I told my friend Pam. I think her husband 
has a smoking fetish in a big way but she and I both just recently found 
this out." 

Cynthia asked, "Let me guess...your friend Pam has just recently started 
smoking and she and her husband are behaving like sex-crazed teenagers 
again?" 

"Exactly. And I think my friend Deb at work enjoys going on smoke breaks 
especially if guys are around just so she can flirt with them. She pretty 
much admitted that much to me. And then there's Heather. She just recently 
started for some unknown reason..." 

Cynthia's ears perked up. "Heather? Is this Heather Smyth by any chance?" 

"Yeah. You know her?" 

Cynthia froze then just about kicked herself. She'd gone too far admitting 
that she knew who Heather was. "Oh, uh, I...I know of her. I met her 
through a mutual friend that also works at, uh Motorola," Cynthia lied. 

"Oh? Who's the mutual friend? Maybe I know her too?" Beth asked innocently. 

"Him. It's a he." Cynthia dredged up some bogus name and hoped the 
conversation would just die. 

Beth confirmed that she did not know nor recognize Cynthia's fictitious 
Motorola employee so she just let it go. 

"So, are we ready to go back inside?" Cynthia asked. She now felt that she 
could easily tolerate another cigarette. In fact, she was starting to crave 
one. 

"Are we going to smoke? Are you going to teach me now?" Beth asked with a 
quiver in her voice. 

"You bet we are." Cynthia noticed Beth was not completely relaxed. Then she 
had an idea. 



Cynthia was used to her subjects (or students) being nervous the first few 
times they'd sit for lessons. She used to try to loosen them up with a 
drink. That would work but oft times the delay involved was either too long 
or the alcohol would never fully take effect. She was careful not to let 
them drink too much because once drunk, even though they would lose all 
inhibitions about smoking they would usually become non-teachable. Cynthia 
took her teaching seriously and expected her women to do the same. She even 
gave them homework and expected improvement at their next lesson. 

Cynthia was now standing behind the counter in the small but well-appointed 
casita kitchen. She pulled out two bottled waters from the fridge and asked 
Beth to come over to the barstool and sit for a moment. She spoke, "This is 
a little ritual I do each day to help counter all the smoking I do. Here, 
you should try it too." 

"Try what?" Beth was wondering what other new things she was going to be 
exposed to today. 

"I take about 12 different vitamins daily. Here, you want to try?" Cynthia 
spread out a variety of pills from various vitamin containers. "It's 
basically just A, B-12, C, E and a bunch of minerals. I read somewhere that 
smoking robs your system of many nutrients, especially Vitamin C, so I do 
this to counter it. Plus I drink a ton of bottled water." 

Beth looked at all the pills. "Sure, I'll try some C. I take a multiple 
each day too." 

Just as she was about to pop the C, Cynthia handed over two tiny ones. 
"Here try this too." 

"What are these?" Beth examined the tiny white pills in the palm of her 
hand. 

"B-12," Cynthia lied. "They make you feel great. They're my single most 
important vitamin staple." 

"Oh, I've heard about B-12," Beth said knowingly. She added them to her C 
and dropped the collection into her mouth. She followed with a long drink 
of water from her bottle. 

"Good," spoke Cynthia. "Let's go sit down." She anticipated about 15 
minutes would be needed for Beth's bloodstream to absorb the medicine she'd 
just given her. Cynthia learned a few years back that Valium was a 
wonderful drug. She'd just slipped Beth 20 milligrams worth, plenty to do 
the trick for the next hour or so. 

While waiting for the tranquilizer to do its magic, Cynthia went to the 
closet in the bedroom and opened a deep drawer. Inside this drawer and two 
others like it were cartons of many different brands of cigarettes. This 
was where Doug had come the other night to get Beth her pack of Virginia 
Slims Menthol Lights. This was precisely the brand Cynthia selected for 
Beth for Lesson One. She never started her students out on a full-flavor 
brand - that is, unless she was diluting it by first inhaling the smoke 
then feeding it to her subject. 

She came back into the living room and handed Beth the light green-striped 
package. Beth took it and immediately began to tear the cellophane off just 
like she did the first time. "Wait," commanded Cynthia. "You have to do it 
slowly and deliberately, as if someone is watching you and grading you." 
She would use this phrase many times before the afternoon was over. 

Beth slowly and deliberately pulled the green ribbon on the pack. "Like 
this?" 

"Exactly. Now, before you flip the top back, pull the bottom wrapper off 
too." She watched Beth do as she was told. "Good. Okay, now use your nails 
to lift the top open. Take the green foil tab, lift it out and discard it. 
Now, you don't necessarily do this next step in public but hold the box up 
to your nose and breath in. What do you smell?" 

Beth sniffed the box where her twenty very white, pristine-looking menthol 
cigarettes were arranged. "It smells wonderful - like minty raisins. And 
moist." 

"That's right. Are you ready to enjoy one of them now?" Cynthia was doing a 
good job enticing her. 

"Yes." Beth's eyes now looked a little glassy. 

Cynthia saw that the Valium was working quickly. She thought she might need 
to hurry. "Good. Take one out again using your nails to free one from the 
package. Now place it between your lips and draw, just like on a straw. 
It's important to apply just the right suction and get used to how it 
feels." 

After sucking, Beth removed the unlit cigarette from her mouth. She felt a 
tingly menthol taste on her tongue even though no smoke was present. 
Cynthia had her take another imaginary puff only this time to breath in and 
pretend to inhale, but not too deeply. 

"Good. Now purse your lips and slowly blow out the uh, air from your 
lungs." 

They repeated this exercise two more times until Beth giggled for no 
apparent reason and said, "I want you to light me now. I'm ready. I want to 
feel smoke in my lungs this time." 

Cynthia wanted to continue the exercise with the unlit VS but felt Beth was 
too quickly absorbing the Valium. Soon she'd want to sleep. "Okay, but 
watch me first." She took out a second VS Light from the pack and showed 
Beth exactly how to light her cigarette without inhaling the first puff. 
Cynthia was surprised how easily Beth followed the instructions. Soon both 
women had their cigarettes going and Cynthia expertly tutored Beth through 
four very light inhales, showing her how to use her lips before starting an 
inhale. Cynthia would initiate the puff and have Beth mirror her exactly. 
After the four puffs, Cynthia had Beth put her cigarette out in the 
ashtray. Even though it was only half gone, she wanted to teach her how to 
extinguish it properly and give her a brief rest. 

"How do you feel?" 

"Like I want another. This is fun," Beth giggled. 

"No dizziness. No urge to gag?" 

"Nope." 

"Okay. Show me exactly how I taught you. Light your next cigarette." 

Beth was smiling as she reached into the pack for her second cigarette. She 
lit it evenly just like she was shown, removed it but did not inhale then 
held it close in her left hand. 

"Excellent. You really catch on fast. Okay, take a first puff, maybe a 
little longer draw this time. Remember to purse your lips before and after 
the inhale, then blow out slowly". Cynthia watched. 

Beth surprised herself and her teacher. Wanting to take a longer drag as 
instructed, she compressed her lovely lips around the white filter and 
slowly sucked for almost four seconds. As she slid the cigarette out, she 
held her lips in a kissing position for about one second, then inhaled. 
Beth immediately felt a heaviness in her chest reminiscent of her night at 
Hank's place. She was careful this time to start her exhale. 

As Beth pursed her lips to slowly breath out the wonderful smoke, Cynthia 
was amazed and pleased to see a long, gorgeous stream leave her pretty 
student's trim, athletic body. In fact, it seemed like such a waste to let 
the smoke leave Beth's mouth and rise to the ceiling. "One more, just like 
that," she commanded. 

Beth complied. But this time Cynthia quickly moved into position and took 
all of Beth's rich exhale. Beth wasn't surprised. When she did it a second 
time she didn't even have to exhale. Cynthia was being so greedy that she 
locked her lips around Beth's and breathed in hard. She literally sucked 
the smoke out of Beth's lungs. During the smoky exchange, Cynthia took the 
VS from Beth's left hand and started a puff of her own. It was long lasting 
and she inhaled deeply. Beth was right there to catch the full exhale from 
Cynthia's mouth. She sucked the smoke from Cynthia's lips into her own 
lungs, enjoying both the smoke and the special intimacy of the moment. 

Both girls were having too much fun to stop. They smoked the remainder of 
Beth's cigarette together feeding the smoke back and forth. When it was 
over they leaned back in the sofa and were quiet for a spell. Finally 
Cynthia spoke. "I think we're done for the day." Her lesson plan fell apart 
as soon as they started their smoky kisses. "If nothing else, you got to 
learn how smoke feels in your lungs. Now, I've got some homework for you." 

Beth smiled dreamily. She was happy and relaxed. Things were getting dim 
and her eyelids heavy. The last thing she remembered before dozing off was 
how wonderful the room smelled. 

Cynthia was also drowsy. She reflected on just what the hell made her 
abandon her teaching methods and start acting like a student herself. Then 
it struck her and she had to laugh out loud. She'd also popped 20 
milligrams of Valium by accident along with her vitamins. Before she too 
dozed off, Cynthia savored the comfortably numb sensation coursing through 
her body and the smoky taste of her breath. 

Previous part | Next part