The Coach, Part 2

The Coach
by CallieKoe

Chapter 2: The Prom

It was only three weeks before the prom and looking back I know how much time
Kathy and her mom spent looking for just the right dress, matching purse and
shoes and just the right place to get her hair and makeup done.  I must have
imagined our date a thousand times before the big night arrived but the date
was itself was no more than a prequel to what I hoped would be a perfect
ending.  As much as I liked her, as beautiful as she was, I knew I could never
be serious with her unless she learned to love to smoke. I spent hours awake
at night imagining that this would come true and how I could help make it so?

Finally, that Friday night arrived and I got in my car, an old Buick I'd saved
all year to buy, to go pick her up.  I had the corsage with me and looked
pretty good (if I may say so myself) in the tux I'd rented.  I arrived
precisely at 6pm (to this day I'm an on-time fanatic) and after hesitating at
the door, knocked confidently. Kathy's mother, Jean, appeared at the door and
welcomed me with a broad smile.  Jean was in her mid-forties and as I learned
later that night, was herself a smoker.  Jean led me into the living room and
asked me to have a seat.  She called downstairs to Kathy and announced my
arrival. Jean then turned to me and made small talk. Unconsciously, she
reached for a Benson and Hedges Menthol 100 and lit up.  She inhaled deeply
and exhaled a deep plume of rich smoke while continuing to chat with me. She
was still attractive and I noticed how beautiful she looked while holding her
long white cigarette between her first two fingers.  It wasn't just that she
smoked, but how she did so that I paid particular attention to.  Smoking style
was becoming important to me, too.  Jean seemed so feminine in the way her
long, graceful fingers held her cigarette.  She never placed it in an ashtray
but held it in her extended fingers with her arm bent so that her hand was
held near her head.  As I began to be aroused at the thought of her crossing
the room to sit on my lap and kiss me while she exhaled, I heard the sound of
the basement door opening and Kathy entering the room.  For a brief moment, I
forgot about smoking and was totally taken aback by how beautiful she looked.
She had chosen a midnight blue gown with matching purse and heels.  She had
dark-blue ribbons in her hair and looked like something out of a dream.  I was
totally enamored with the vision standing in front of me. "Well, not totally,"
I thought as I remembered the "Prime Directive" which was to somehow convince
her to start smoking.  

I had Thanksgiving Day in November as a goal. I had no idea how long it took
to get "hooked" on smoking but decided I would do my best to coach her toward
that end.  I was well aware she might completely reject my suggestion and even
be angered by it.  But I had already had a "vanilla" relationship with a
gorgeous girl who didn't smoke and knew there was no other alternative for me
but to pursue my ultimate goal.  That meant there just 100 days from prom
night until my birthday and I was determined to coach her to victory!

With that thought in mind, I smiled and said, "Wow, you look GREAT!"  Her
mother doted over her for some short time, took a couple of photos and then
said, "Well, you two kids have a great time! And be home by one, alright?"  We
agreed and I took Kathy's hand and led her to my car.  I noticed it was
unusually warm for September in Western Washington as I opened her door and
helped her in then walked around to my side of the old LeSabre.  I put the key
in the ignition and Buick came to life.  I then turned to her and said,
"Kathy, you look absolutely sensational" and leaned over to kiss her.  She
responded warmly and we kissed for a few seconds before driving off to the
prom.  It was then that I no longer cared about my relationship with Caitlen.

We arrived at the prom and spent a girl's fairytale evening dancing with each
other to every romantic song the DJ played the entire night.  We held each
other closely and looked deeply into each other's eyes trying to see what lay
deep within each other's souls. Although I had no real belief in my Mormon
faith, I prayed she would be willing to at least agree to try smoking
occasionally.  If she said "no", I knew the world was full of other women and
believed that some would say "yes."  At the end of each dance, I kissed her
softly.  Her eager responses were extremely encouraging.  And while I admit I
loved the delicious taste of her sweet breath, I couldn't help but long for a
kiss that tasted of smoke.  In fact, I could think of nothing else.  As I
smelled the delicious scent of her shampooed hair, I could only dream
longingly of the day when that smell would be mingled with that of her own
cigarette smoke as well as her clothes, completely saturated with the same,
wonderful, intoxicating smell.  I was so obsessed that she immediately noticed
my hardness and obligingly snuggled her hips tightly to my crotch.

We left the dance at 11:30 and drove to a secluded spot where we could be
alone.  Neither of us had much to say but it only took a couple of minutes for
us to find ourselves in each other's arms kissing passionately.  In less than
another two minutes I had slid the spaghetti straps of her dress down her arms
and had cupped her large, soft, round breasts in my hand.  In turn, she
responded by placing her hand on my crotch and massaging me gently through my
pants. That was as far as we got on that first date but I believed that it
wouldn't take long for me to "bare my soul" to her and find out whether she
"would" or "wouldn't".

Previous part | Next part