Quit Smoking Diary, Part 5

Author's note:  The following story is satire, and is not intended to, in
any sense, imply that people should not quit smoking, or that people should
intentionally sabotage the attempts of others to quit.  As the surgeon
general so wisely advises, "Quitting smoking now greatly reduces serious
risks to your health."

The author does not necessarily condone the use of tobacco, nor hypnosis
under false pretenses, nor participation in lesbian sex, , nor masturbation,
nor any other morally questionable practice depicted in the story.  

Later parts of the story contain graphic sexual language, and are not
suitable for underage readers.  

Any resemblance to smoking fetish fiction is purely accidental.  

"My Quit Smoking Diary"
Part 5 

Entry 10:

My name is Jennifer Morgan, and I am a nicotine addict. It has been over a
day since my last cigarette, and I still really want one. Maybe I should say
I really need one. I am going to get my chance very soon!

After I wrote my journal entry last night, I decided to pay the girl next
door a visit, if nothing else to get to know possibly the only other person
on this stupid cruise who knows what I am going through. So I showered, got
dressed, and did my hair and makeup, feeling the whole time like something
(nicotine!) was missing from my getting ready routine. 

I was a bit nervous when I knocked on the door, but of course I've been a
nervous wreck since yesterday, so no surprise there. A young and feminine
sounding voice called out, "Just a minute," and I waited for probably about
two minutes before the door opened.

The girl who answered looked to be about my age, perhaps eighteen or nineteen
years old. For some reason I couldn't place, she looked a little bit
familiar, as if she was related to someone I knew. She was petite, with
silky, shoulder length black hair, and she was dressed very fashionably in a
very well-tailored red dress. On her hands, she wore matching red gloves, and
her small feet filled the matching red high heels. A pearl necklace adorned
her neck and chest. She looked as if she had just stepped out of the cover of
Vogue or Glamour.

I introduced myself, and said that I was rooming next door, and was wondering
if she might want to go out for a drink. She said, in a well-cultured way,
that her name was Emily, and that she was pleased to make my acquaintance. 

She ordered a margarita, while I asked for the same, and to my surprise she
insisted on paying. After making some small talk, I broached the subject that
I really wanted to talk about, trying not to betray my anxieties.

"When I came onboard, the porter who showed me to my room mentioned that you
were quitting smoking. How is it going? I'm here on this particular ship for
the same reason."

Her answer surprised me again, because she said, politely but firmly, that
she would rather not talk about that subject right now, and immediately began
to talk about the weather. Needless to say, I wasn't sure at all what to
make of her response.

Something that I noticed that was interesting was the way that she took the
straw out of her drink and held it, between her forefinger and middle finger,
like a cigarette. She noticed me noticing, and hastily put her straw back in
her drink. It was an awkward moment. She excused herself and went to the
bathroom, while I continued to sip my beverage.

After she returned, we had more drinks, and as the evening wore on we got
more comfortable. Much more comfortable. All that was missing was our
cigarettes. We began talking more freely, and she, perhaps under the
influence of the several margaritas she had drunk, said, rather loudly, that
she really wished that she had a cigarette. I had, of course, been thinking
the whole thing since we had our first drink, so I nodded my head
enthusiastically in agreement.

Several of the anti-smoking passengers looked at us with disdain, and I felt
embarrassed. But she just laughed merrily, and said that perhaps we should go
back to our rooms and talk in a more private setting. We walked, rather
tipsily, back to our rooms, and she invited me in. I was eager to talk with
her, so I accepted.

Emily went again to the restroom, and told me to make myself comfortable. I
sat down in one of the comfortable chairs that were situated in the room
while Emily relieved herself. When she came back out, she kicked off her red
shoes and lay down on her stomach on her bed, facing me.

"I'm sorry I was a little bit abrupt with you earlier, when you asked how I
was doing on quitting smoking," she said.

"That's ok. I've been pretty cranky myself the past day or so. Have you
been ok?"

"I don't know if I should tell you this, but- No, I don't want to tempt
you."

I spoke up right away, "That's ok. Please do. Tell me, that is."

She smiled, as if in amusement. "Well, I'm getting off of this ship
tomorrow, and checking into a hotel."

"I see," I replied. "Let me guess, when they asked you smoking or non-"

"Yeah," Emily said, glancing downward. "I'm going to smoke again
tomorrow!"

I don't know if it was the alcohol, the idea of being left alone on the
ship, the still very intense cravings, or some other influence, but before I
thought about what I was going to say, I cried out, "Please, take me with
you!"

Emily smiled, but it was clear that she was trying not to. She probably felt
bad for tempting me, and she said, "But you've been through so much
already. I don't want to be an excuse for you to start back up again."

"Don't worry about it," I answered. "Even if you weren't planning to go,
I don't think I would have stayed smoke free after we reach port. The idea
of going to buy cigarettes has been in my mind since I got onboard."

"In my case, I've been planning to get off since before the cruise. I even
reserved my room and shipped a few cartons of cigarettes and cigars to the
hotel in advance."

I thought it was interesting that she wanted to get off the whole time, and
asked, "Why did you get on this cruise in the first place, if you weren't
planning on quitting?"

"Well, my older sister kind of talked me into it." Unconsciously, Emily
picked up a white pen and began stroking it. She smiled, revealing slightly
stained teeth, as she said, "She's a pretty strong person, which is to say
that she's fiendishly manipulative, and she usually ends up getting other
people to do what she wants them to. Despite her shortcomings, we're really
close though."

"In my case, I was already seeing a hypnotherapist to help me quit, and my
best friend got me the ticket to help me out."

Emily began to chew on the pen, and then, noticing what she was doing, put it
hastily down, only to pick it up again and fiddle with it. She said, "The
funny thing is that my sister smokes constantly, although she tells certain
people that she quit smoking a long time ago."

"That's amazing!" I exclaimed. "My friend who arranged for my trip still
smokes too. I think she feels guilty for having started me smoking."

"My sister got me started too," Emily said, smiling again at the further
commonality in our situations. "But I don't think she feels guilty about
it. I just think that she wanted me to come because she wants what's best
for me."

"Yeah, same with my friend," I said, nodding my head in agreement.

"So you're seeing a hypnotherapist? How's that going?"

"She's really great, and I'm totally glad I got a chance to meet her. She
just seems so deeply concerned about me. You know she even drove me to the
airport yesterday, and made sure I got on the boat? You would probably get
along great with her, even though she says she quit smoking about ten years
ago. Even though I want to start back up with smoking, I think I'd like to
continue seeing her."

"That's really cool," Emily said.

"Hey, I have a question. Why did you ship cigs to the hotel when you can
just buy them somewhere?"

"What brand do you smoke?" Emily asked.

"I'm a proud Newport girl," I said. Saying those words reinforced in my
mind that I had no intention of going any longer without a cigarette than I
had to, and even though my cravings continued to be horrible, I felt a
certain lightening of tension at the idea that there was a light, so to
speak, at the end of my tunnel.

"That's probably why you asked. If you smoked my brand, you wouldn't want
to smoke any other kind of cigarette." Emily seemed to grow more animated as
she spoke.

"What brand do you smoke?" I asked, suddenly curious.

"They aren't available at stores, yet, though maybe someday. Allures are
easily the best cigarette in the world. I get them directly from the
manufacturer."

"That's interesting," I replied. "I've never heard of Allure cigarettes,
but I guess if you're going to put smoke in your lungs, it might as well be
the best." Emily smiled, prompting me to ask, "So, you never answered my
question. Can I come with you? I can pay for half of your room, then at some
point I'll fly back home, and put this whole quitting smoking thing behind
me."

Emily chewed thoughtfully on the end of her pen before answering. "Well, I
hate to be the cause of you falling off the nicotine wagon, but I would
really like to have some company. So, yes! I'd be happy to have you. But on
three conditions."

"Which are?"

"One, you have to let me pay for your room, for your flight home, and any
other expenses. I must insist, since money isn't really an issue for me, and
I feel like your getting off the ship is partially my fault. Secondly, your
therapist sounds like a really wonderful person, so I think you should call
her before you make any decisions, and hear what she has to say."

"I don't know what to say about you paying, except, thanks! And I was
already planning on calling my therapist. I don't think she has much chance
of changing my mind though; I hope she won't be too disappointed. What's
the third condition?"

"Well, instead of going back to your old brand, you're going to have to try
my brand. That will mean that it'll be a little bit longer until we get to
smoke again, but trust me, it'll be extremely worth it." At these words,
she put the pen in her mouth again, and gazed at me, grinning dreamily. 

Impulsively, I got up, picked up the phone by her bedside, and ordered a nice
bottle of champagne to celebrate our decision. Since Emily was so generous
with me, it was the least I could do. 

When the bottle arrived, we consumed it over the next couple of hours,
talking the whole time about how good it will feel tomorrow to cheerfully
submit to our desire for cigarettes. Emily drank more than I did, and seemed
more than tipsy when I finally decided it was time for me to go back to my
own room and sleep. 

I went back to my room, and despite my incredible cravings, which had
intensified rather than diminished with the alcohol and the conversation, I
soon fell asleep. I woke up around 7:00 this morning, craving a cigarette,
but excited to know that my cravings will soon be satisfied. 

Instead of smoking, I wrote this journal entry, which was a poor substitute,
but which helped me to organize my thoughts before I call Dr. Monroe. Then, I
need to pack, because I'm outta here, very soon, heading again for smoking
satisfaction!

Emily and I are already becoming very good friends, and I can't wait for us
to leave this place. I have never met a girl so excited about her brand of
cigarettes. I'm looking forward to trying them, and despite my desperation
for nicotine, I'm happy for the first time since my last cigarette. It is
just such an amazing coincidence that both Emily and I are so much alike. It
is as if the goddess of nicotine took pity on my miserable plight, and sent
Emily to console me in my hour of need.

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