Tina and Phil

(by anonymous, 17 April 1999)

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Tina and Phil
   Tina watched me as I lit my Marlboro 100. As soon as I did, she said
something about my smoking. How long had I been smoking and did I enjoy it?
   I told her I started two years ago when I was 14 and I enjoyed it very
much.  What Tina didn't know was that I was very interested in teaching her
to smoke.
   You see, Tina is my 15-year- old girlfriend and I have wanted her to smoke
since we started dating about a month ago. But I hadn't said anything about
it yet.
   What I had been doing for the past month was smoking on our dates, but
making sure she knew that I enjoyed what I was doing and hoping that it would
tempt her.
   "Does your parents know you smoke?" she asked me. "Yes, I told them about
a year ago and they're cool with it since both of them also smoke, as does my
older sister, who is 17.
   "Tina, have you ever smoked?"
   "No, I've never tried it."
   "Will you smoke with me?"
   "Because I enjoy it so much, and I want you to enjoy it, too. Besides that,
you would be very sexy smoking. And I know you'd like it a lot," I said.
   "OK, I'll try it." she replied.
   I took one of my Marlboro's out of the pack and handed it to her. "Don't
inhale on the first try, just draw on it a little bit." She smiled and put
the long white cigarette to her lips and I gave her a light.
   Tina will begin telling the story now.
   I took the cigarette between my fingers, shaking with nervous
anticipation, brought it to my lips and, closing my eyes, sucked a little
puff of smoke into my mouth.  I held it in my mouth for a couple seconds,
analyzing the taste.  It was somewhat on the bitter side, and I puffed it out
between pursed lips.

   I must have looked a little funny because Phil said something.
   "The bitter taste goes away by the second or third drag," he said, sensing
my unvoiced quandary. "I watched your face, and you didn't look like you
thought it was too bitter, so keep trying."
   I did as he advised.  By the third drag, true to Phil's prediction, the
smoke no longer tasted bitter. By the fifth drag, I found that I was really
enjoying the taste of the smoke.  I was ready to learn to inhale, and I said so.
   "No, I don't think you're ready for that, yet," Phil answered.
   The way he said it was such that I didn't think it wise to push any more
on it.  Later on, I tried again to get Phil to teach me to inhale, and he
refused, I didn't know what to think. But he did share his cigarettes with me
during the rest of the evening.  By the time I went home that night, I'd
puffed about six cigarettes, having one every time Phil lit up.  (I said
"puffed" since, because I wasn't inhaling, I didn't really feel that I
actually smoked those cigarettes.)
   The next night we had another date and went to our same parking place out
near the lake. "Can I have another cigarette," I asked him as he lit up. He
said "yes" and handed me one and extended his lighter out. I took it, put it
into my mouth and sucked on it until it lit.
   "Do you want to inhale now," he asked me. "Yes," I told him, "I want to try
   "Well, first your lungs need to get used to feeling smoke flow into them,"
he said. "And, since I don't want to see you hack and cough like I did when I
first learned to smoke, we're going to try a little experiment.  I'm going
to take a drag and inhale, to mix the smoke with some air, and then I'm going
to put my lips up to yours exhale.  When I exhale, you inhale, and try to get
as much of the smoke as you can."
   So he took a drag, inhaled, and then moved his lips to mind and winked at
  I emptied my lungs as completely as possible, nodded slightly, and then
began to inhale as he blew a thick stream of smoke straight into my mouth.  I
felt the warmth of the smoke in my lungs, and in my pants, and slowly began
to exhale, watching to see a not-very-big cloud of smoke emerge.
   I must've looked a little depressed, because then he took a double-drag,
inhaling each, and breathed the smoke into my mouth again.  This time, when I
inhaled, I thought I was going to climax on the spot, and when I exhaled, a
fairly thick cloud emerged.  I took a breath of air, and as I began to say
"thank you" to Phil, I saw a few thin wisps of smoke emerge from my mouth as
I spoke.
   We did that three more times before I took the cigarette from between his
fingers, took a medium drag, and inhaled.  It felt a little thicker than my
five previous inhales, and I felt just the smallest hint of a catch in the
back of my throat, but I didn't cough.
   The resulting exhale was the thickest cloud of smoke yet, and I allowed it
to pass through both my mouth and nose.  I was overwhelmed by the taste, the
delicious taste of the tobacco smoke.  The sensation was unbelievable, like
someone hitting me in the chest. I realized immediately what I had done and I
felt a thrill. The feeling was wonderful this time. After a second or two I
blew it out and felt a tingle run through my body.
   By the next drag, I felt as if I'd been smoking for months, at least.  And
Phil had a smile that lit her face from ear to ear.  I don't think I'd ever
seen him smile at me quite that way, ever
   He handed me a pack of cigarettes and a lighter to start me off, as he
said, and I smoked five more that night.
   The next time I had the chance to smoke, when I was out again with Phil, I
was able to do it with no problems. I was still only smoking only one or two
nights a week, but I was smoking up to a half pack on those nights and I had
mastered the art of inhaling and looked forward to having the chance to smoke
whenever I could.
   With plenty of cigarettes (Phil was still supplying me) and a lighter
available, and feeling the urge to smoke more often, I began to use the
bathroom to satisfy my growing smoking desires. The exhaust fan would cover
up most traces as long as I picked my times carefully and so I began to smoke
at least 1 or 2 each day. By now I always inhaled and really liked that part
of it. Breathing smoke into my lungs was something that just felt so good and
I think I got a naughty rush out of doing a bad thing behind my parents'
   By this time I had started to buy my own and I kept them in my bedroom and
used the bathroom routine whenever I needed to smoke at home. But this was
beginning to be a hassle and after a long time of worrying about it I finally
got the nerve to tell my mom. I figured she'd hit the ceiling, but what did I
   We were alone at home one day when I finally said: "Mom, you know that I
smoke now." "Oh, I know," she said. "I've smelled them in the bathroom after
you've come out, for quite a while, Go ahead and have one if you want to, I'm
not going to get on your case."  I very nervously lit up a Marlboro 100 and
inhaled and then exhaled a long stream of smoke.
    What came next was what surprised me. "You know, Tina, I used to smoke
but I quit about 18 years ago, just before your sister was born. With you
smoking now in the car, it makes me want one bad. Please let me have one of
    "Oh, Mom, you don't have to prove anything to me.  I know some people
disapprove of smoking, even though I like to smoke so much. So, just because
you used to smoke 18 years ago and wanted to quit because you didn't like it,
you don't have to show me that you know how to smoke or something."
   "Tina, you assumed that I didn't like to smoke. The fact is that I loved
it. I started as a freshman in high school. By the time I was a sophomore I
was smoking a pack a day. Junior and senior years I was usually doing two or
three packs a day. Of course, in those days it was easy to buy cigarettes,
and my mom and dad, your grandparents, both smoked, so they didn't mind me
smoking at home. Now give me that cigarette, if you please."
   Tina took out a new cigarette for herself and passed the pack of Marlboro
100s to her mother, who shook one of the long, white cigarettes from the pack
and placed it between her lips. Tina reached over and flicked her lighter
under the tip of her mother's cigarette. Her mother took a quick, hard draw
to light the cigarette, let the puff of smoke out, and then placed the filter
deep in the center of her mouth. She wrapped her lips tight around the shaft,
and began sucking thick smoke into her mouth. Keeping the cigarette between
her lips, she opened the corners of her mouth to inhale the smoke, then
sealed her lips again around the long shaft of the white cigarette, and began
pulling more and more smoke into her mouth. 
   After about 10 seconds, she withdrew the cigarette from her mouth, puffed
out an enormous ball of white smoke, inhaled it deep into her lungs, and just
held it there for several satisfying seconds. She now felt the buzz as the
nicotine began coursing through her blood. Her mother knew she wanted more.
More smoke.  Much more. Tina watched as her mother began exhaling the smoke
through her nose as she again placed the Marlboro in her mouth and started
drawing in more smoke.
   "You really like to smoke," Tina said to her mom. "I had no idea, no idea
at all. I have an extra pack. Keep the one I gave you. I think you may need
it.  And here's an extra lighter I have."
   After that she was really supportive about my starting to smoke, letting
me smoke whenever and wherever I wanted to and buying them for both of us by
the carton, making sure I always had enough. She encouraged my smoking only
to the extent of offering me a cigarette every so often when she would have
one too.  After a short while I noticed that I was smoking much more than
before, usually whenever she had one too.
   I was up to better than half a pack a day in no time with no sign of
slowing down. By now I had realized that I enjoyed smoking a lot and finally
that I now really wanted to smoke. After about another year, with mom and my
boyfriend Phil continuing to offer support to my habit and with me deciding
to let myself smoke as often as I felt like one, I got up to a consistent
pack a day. I slowed down my rate of increase at that point but still let
myself smoke freely and continued to really enjoy smoking and let myself
eventually go up to about a pack and a half a day, almost the same as mom and
Phil. I have also changed brands. I am now smoking Newport 120s, which I like
very much.
   Mom and I talked about smoking a little and she told me that she knew it
was bad for her but that she really liked to smoke and didn't want to give it
up again. I think that she liked the idea that I had become a smoker too
since we often had long chats over cigarettes like a couple of old friends.
She asked me once early on about my smoking and whether I really liked it too
and if I thought I could give it up. I told her that I did and that I wanted
to keep on smoking. After that she seldom raised the subject again.
   Phil still gets turned on by my smoking and we get real excited when we
smoke together in the car at the lake, especially when we have those smoky
kisses.  I am so grateful that he taught me to smoke and I think something is
going to happen with us sexually in another little while.  

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