Sisterhood Of The Smoker Babes, Part 18

(by, 06 March 2010)

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Writers Note---Those that enjoy a good science fiction story know that they
need to suspend their beliefs of the real world and allow for the possibility
of things that are out of the ordinary. You will need to do that when you
read this story. With that being said, while the science fiction stuff is
mostly a product of my imagination, many of the smoking scenes are in fact
based on real encounters and sightings that I've experienced throughout
my life. Some have been modified to fit the context of the story but others
remain mostly intact as they actually occurred. Lastly, when reading this I
suggest that you pay attention to the timeline as it is critical to how
you'll draw your conclusions over the story's ending. My email address is if you wish to discuss or comment on the story.
I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.


CHAPTER 18 - September 25, 2011 - The newest RJT Employee
    I listened intently as Decker spilled out my latest assignment. He had
been on a conference call earlier with Cameron and things didn't sound good.
The time to act was now if RJT's plan of spreading world wide nicotine
addiction was to succeed. Although the program was showing marginal success,
the anti-smoking movement was still winning as increased smoking bans were
going into effect and the percentage of smokers was still dropping. Decker
explained that it was imperative for my girls to be brought on board as soon
as possible so they could begin traveling back to the past to work their
magic. The plan was to hook millions of female smokers in the seventies and
eighties and nineties, which would in turn put a kibosh on the anti-smoking
movements during that time. With so much public support and demand for
cigarettes as the world entered the twenty first century, the anti-smoking
movement would die out before it ever get started. Plus, the bans and
regulations that had been imposed during this century's first decade wouldn't
even be a thought on any politician's mind for fear of alienating his
constituency and his immediate ouster from office.

    It was decided that I would approach two of my major targets alone. They
knew me, so Decker and the others figured they'd be more comfortable dealing
with me without having Erin and her thirty year time jump nudging them in the
recruiting process.

    Erin didn't mind, actually. She woke up a bit nauseous that morning and
although she was feeling better, instead she could spend some time on her
other favorite new hobby, which was downloading all of the music she'd missed
over the past thirty years to her new iPod. She looked cute as hell with a
cigarette dangling out of her mouth while perusing the iTunes store as I left
that morning.

    The object of my recruitment on that day was my old friend whose name was
Melissa Turner. Melissa was already working at the jewelry plant when I
joined their sales department in 1999. She was twenty-six then, and over the
next five years she became perhaps the number one stoker of my smoking
fetish, that is, until Erin reappeared on the scene.

    Melissa was incredibly hot. Even though she had a reasonably high
position in the accounting department, she always pushed the limit with the
way she dressed at the office. Now don't get me wrong here, it wasn't like
she dressed in bare midriff see-through tank tops. But there was always just
a little more showing than what you'd expect from an office professional. I
noticed her on my very first day. She stood out head and shoulders above the
others in the smoking area. Her long dark blonde hair and blue eyes
accentuated by her clothes just oozed sexuality. Plus, her smoking style was
incredible. I realized right away that this girl was helplessly addicted to
cigarettes. She would smoke two or three in a row on her breaks and four
sometimes at lunch.  That's ten cigarettes over an eight hour work day. But
the most remarkable part of her smoking repertoire was her long holds after
she inhaled before releasing her smoke from her lungs. I would time them and
sometimes they lasted five to six seconds. I often wondered if smoking had
not been banned inside the workplace a few years earlier how many she would
consume over the eight hours.  I figured a pack at least but perhaps more. Of
course, finding out later that RJT and I were responsible for her nicotine
habit was again shocking to me. As with Jamie Plouffe, if back in 1999 had
anyone said to me that anyone but Melissa was responsible for her habit I
would have immediately recommended they spend some time in a padded room
wearing a straight jacket.

    We became fast friends as did most smokers who congregated in designated
smoking areas during this time period. Outdoor smoking areas seemed to bond
the people who got pushed outside by the ever increasing smoking restrictions
that were passed during the late nineties and early two thousands. It wasn't
long before we were calling each others office so that we could take our
smoke breaks together. For a period of roughly five years I was treated to
daily front row seat to this girl feeding her voracious nicotine addiction.

    One day she called my office and asked me for a ride home; her car was
being repaired and wasn't going to be ready for a week. Her apartment
building was on my way home anyway so I told her I'd be her personal taxi
service until she got the car back. I had two motives, mind you, when I
offered to be her source of transportation. The first was that she genuinely
was a friend and I didn't mind helping her out. The second?  Well, let's just
say the memories of her filling up my car with the creamy smoke from her
exhales will always be with me.

    We almost got together once. If circumstances were different we might
have and who knows, could still be together today. But our timing never
matched up.  When I first met her she was in a relationship and I was still
in my first marriage, albeit a marriage in decline at that time. When my
divorce was finalized, she was engaged. She never married the guy but by the
time she broke it off I was with someone else. This cycle seemed to
perpetuate itself over time and I chalked it up as something that wasn't
meant to be. Still, though, one night will always remain scorched in my

    One night back in 2002 a few of us at work decided to go out to a dance
club for a night out. There were six of us in total. I was meeting Melissa at
her place. Her best friend from work, Andrea, a twenty-four year-old blonde
beauty and also a heavy smoker was meeting us there as well. All week I was
looking forward to the prospect of having these two twenty-something babes
filling my car with their clouds of smoke.

    The night at the club was everything I'd hoped for and more. In 2002 you
could still smoke in nightclubs and it was common by about 11:00 pm that you
could see a permanent murky haze of smoke hanging from the ceiling. I'm
guessing Melissa smoked a pack that night and Andrea wasn't far behind. One
memory that sticks with me is how Melissa kept coming off the dance floor, a
drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and she'd take one final drag
from her butt and half snuff it out in the ashtray right almost in front of
me and walk away while it still burned. Seconds later I'd look up and she'd
have another one going.

    Throughout the night Melissa consumed a large number of drinks along with
her cigarettes and was totally inebriated by the end of the night.  While not
the official designated driver, Andrea held back a bit; well, with the
drinking anyway, not the cigarettes. At closing time we left the club and
though she could still walk, Melissa needed both Andrea and my help in
guiding her to the car. As we got in the car something incredibly funny

    When Melissa went to take a cigarette from her pack, in her drunken state
she spilled them all over the floor. "Waaait," she said to Andrea. "Don't go
anywhere, I NEED to find my cigarettes!" She started getting out of the car
and was crawling all over the seat and floor to make sure she found every
one.  When she did, another crisis happened. She'd lost her lighter.  With an
unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth she looked at me and with her thumb
and forefinger started flicking her imaginary lighter. I lit her up of course
but wondered what would have happened if I'd held out a bit. It was kind of
cute watching her in the throngs of nicotine desperation, even if only for a
few seconds.

    We arrived at Melissa's place. Andrea and I had to help her up the
stairs, a task made more difficult by the fact that she lived on the top
floor and the staircase leading up to her apartment was extremely narrow and
winding. Melissa kept falling into me and I kept propping her up.  During one
of those drunken sways into me, I inadvertently caught her and my hand landed
on her ass. She turned to face me and she had this extremely seductive look
on her face.

    At her apartment door she asked us if we were coming in. "Aww, c'mon you
guys, it's still er-leeee," she slurred. At this point it was past 3 am.
Suddenly she fell into me, I caught her and her face was inches from mine,
her breath wreaked of cigarettes. For a few seconds, her glassy eyes locked
with mine. I was more than a bit aroused and things might have escalated if
Andrea wasn't there but as was the pattern of our tortured history of poor
timing, nothing happened. It did make for some fun conversations at work over
the next few weeks, however.

    My actual recruitment of Melissa was surprisingly easy. I had a feeling
it would be. She'd always seemed to be a risk taker and a glutton for
excitement and I figured once I'd gotten through explaining to her about the
whole time travel thing that the rest would fall into place. I knew exactly
where I wanted to jump. Back to 2002, of course, about a week after our
famous night out at the club. I jumped right into my own car on one of those
nights I was giving her a ride home. I had to find a way to segue into the
discussion so I started off by telling her I was leaving the jewelry company
for a better opportunity.  She was sad at first but when I explained that the
place I was going to had an opening for her, her mood lightened. She thought
I was busting her balls (her words exactly) when I started going into this
crazy story about time travel and injections to spread the nicotine addiction
in order to keep the tobacco industry alive and crush out the anti-smoking
movement. At first she didn't believe me. Her disbelief faded immediately
when I brought up a story about a certain flu shot back in 1991 at the
University of Alabama.

    "How long was it after that before you had your first cigarette, Mel?"

    For a minute or so she said nothing. I could see that she was turning
this over in her head and trying to process everything I had just told her.
She took a long succulent drag from a half finished cigarette and, as she
performed one of her incredibly sexy talking exhales, said that she was in.

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