Triangle

Triangle
an4@anon.lelnet.com

   "Are you just bored ?" September asked Nick. He was sitting with her, but she
had this feeling only his body was in the same place. His mind seemed to be on
a short, well-endowed blonde sitting in the smoking section. She was alone,
looking quite content to sit and read, sipping occasionally at Jamaican Blue
Mountain while puffing on one Marlboro 100 after another.
   Nick was definitely enjoying the performance.
   September had seen this before. She'd always resisted the urge, but lately,
his little idiosyncracy had gotten worse and it was starting to annoy her. Not
that she never watched guys- who didn't- but this was getting tired.
   "What ?" Nick asked, seemingly finding it difficult to tear his attention
away from the blonde's spectacular nose exhale.
   "Every morning we come here, and you sit and stare at some luscious girl in
the smoking section. And it's not just here. It's everywhere that we go. Does
it turn you on or something ?"
   They both knew the answer to the question, but Nick was surprised. He'd never
imagined that his occasional glances had added up to something which was
actually noticeable.
   The cowardly part of him was ready to say no, because he was sure that
September would never understand. Three months with her had told him to keep
his obsession to himself.
   But he knew what it might lead to if he could only bring himself to answer
her question with a yes.
   By the time he'd thought out the best answer, September was speaking again.
   "I used to smoke, you know."
   That got Nick's undivided attention.
   "I didn't know that."
   "I hadn't wanted to say anything about it," September said with a smile,
sipping at her Cafe Mocha. "Do you want to hear the details ?"
   "Sure," Nick answered in as off-handed a manner as he could manage.
   "When I was a sophomore in high school, all my friends smoked. It was the
cool thing to do, you know ? Well, I came home one day and very calmly asked
my mother if she'd mind if I started smoking."
   "And she said no ?"
   September laughed. "No. She told me that under no circumstance was I to
smoke, that there would be a world of trouble if she so much as thought I
might be smoking. I knew right then I had to."
   "I thought you and your mother got along really well."
   "We do- we always did. But I was fifteen. About a week later, she caught me.
I was walking to school. She was headed out to the store and drove right up
next to me while I had a cigarette in my mouth. She stopped the car, I dropped
the cigarette, and she made me get in. She was so furious."
   "And that was it for your smoking, huh ?"
   "No. Not at all. Just the opposite, in fact."
   "So you were a rebel about it ?" Nick asked. 	
   "No. I mean, the first thing she did when I got in the car was take my
cigarettes away, which made me furious. When you're fifteen, getting
cigarettes is always a challenge, and I knew I'd have to walk two miles out of
my way coming home to get more. She gave me this whole speech about how she'd
smoked for ten years and quitting was the hardest thing she'd ever done, and
she wanted to spare me of all that. But she didn't exactly sound convincing,
you know. I got the impression she was saying what she thought she had to but
didn't believe it."
   "What happened after that ?" Nick asked, the blonde no utterly forgotten. He
was imagining a fifteen year old September walking down the street, cigarette
dangling jauntily from her pretty mouth, her full lips working it gently as
she kept her hands deep in her pockets to protect them from the cold.
   "Well, Mom had smoked until I was eight. So she had a full set of ashtrays-
there was one in every room of the house but mine. I came home that afternoon-
I was late getting out of school because of Yearbook and didn't have time to
swing by the store. I was pretty pissed off, too. I wanted to really have it
out with Mom- it's amasing how unfair you can think your parent is when you're
that age."
   "I stormed right into the kitchen, not noticing the ashtray on the coffee
table in the living room. She was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking the
last cigarette from my pack. She'd bought a carton and she told me that she
was actually glad she caught me and taken my cigarettes away. It made her
realise how much she'd missed smoking- and that she wasn't going to be a
hypocrite and tell me that I couldn't smoke. Then she said that I could have a
pack every other day, and once I turned sixteen, if I hadn't outgrown it, we
could talk about letting me smoke as much as I wanted to. From that day on,
she's been a pack a day smoker, and very happy about it."
   "So why'd you quit ?"
   "Who said that I ever quit ?" September teased, stroking his shin with her
foot. Nick wondered if she knew that he had a raging hard on right now.
   Her smile indicated that she probably did.
   "Would this be a bad time to ask you to get me a refill ?"
   "Tell the rest of the story," he begged.
   "All right. I smoked all through high school. But when I got to college, I
drew a non-smoker in the lottery. None of our friends smoked, and it got to be
such a pain- and I got so tired of the way people looked at me when I said I
was going outside for a smoke, that I finally quit by the middle of my
sophomore year. Every now and then I still have one, but it just isn't
something I've felt like taking up again. I mean, you don't smoke-"
   "No-"
   "Well. I haven't had a cigarette in the last three months. I was holding off
because my annual physical was yesterday and they jack up your insurance rates
if you smoke. I mean the health questionnaire asks if you've had one or more
cigarettes in the last year."
   "That's bullshit."
   "Yeah, it is, but it's expensive bullshit. Tell me something-"
   She leaned across the table until she was close enough that he could smell
her Melacuca shampoo. She had a wonderful smell, which could only be enhanced
by one thing. He wondered if she'd noticed how good the sex was on nights when
they went out to some smoky bar and came back with her smelling of other
women's cigarette smoke. The delightful scent her entire body took on.
   He knew he'd have to tell her.
   "Would our sex life be better if I smoked for you ?"
   Nick frowned. That was a `have you stopped beating your wife' sort of
question. Still, it was true that their sex life had gotten mundane, that he
was not above pretending she was, say, that blonde in the corner, cigarette in
hand-
   "Is that something you'd do for me ?" he asked.
   "You'll have to ask me to find out, Nick."
   "All right then. If I ask you to leave with me and swing by the store to get
a pack of cigarettes, will you do it ?"
   September just smiled.

   They got out of September's black Saab 900. She paused. "You have to
understand something, Nick. At some point, not today, but eventually, I'll
have to ask you to reciprocate."
   "How ?"
   "I'll ask you to do something for me that turns me on. And I'll expect you to
be as co-operative as I'm being right now, okay ?"
   The only thing that Nick could think of was September lying in her bed, a
freshly lit cigarette in her hand. Or better yet, her mouth.
   "Sure."
   He was fighting another hard on the usual way, imagining himself naked to the
waist in a chest-high snow bank, gulls circling his dying form.
   It was less than perfectly successful.
   They walked inside and September walked straight up to the counter. The owner
of the store, a gentle Indian man named Sanjay, smiled warmly.
   "I haven't seen you in months, September. The usual ?"
   She nodded.
   He looked behind him. "I have a special three pack with a T-shirt if you'd
like."
   September considered, nodded again.
   He took the box down and handed it to her.
   "Seven fifty."
   She handed him a ten, enjoying the feeling of excitement holding the
promotional package brought. Before she was out the door, she'd taken out a
single pack, undone the cellophane, and without any pause or hesitation, lit
one of the cigarettes.
   The way Nick reacted to seeing a lit cigarette in her hand was compelling. He
was holding the rest of the package and it nearly slid from his hand as he
watched her first inhale with intense satisfaction.
   A three month layoff had done nothing to mute her smoker's easy style and
confidence. Nick had been afraid that she would treat the cigarette hesitantly
or look as though she hardly remembered what to do with it. neither was the
case. She had the confident and casual style of a long-time smoker. The hold
was easy, sexual. The inhales were unmeasured, contented, automatic.
   She was actually a smoker.
   And she'd hidden that all this time.
   If he'd discovered this some other way, Nick might just have found the
ability to be angry with her about this.
   But she was sharing her smoking with him and that made all the difference in
the world.
   They settled into the car, September rolling down both windows part way. She
slid open the ashtray. It had never been opened before and he could see the
tell-tale signs of other cigarettes having been put out in it.
   "You're already turned on, aren't you ?" she asked with a smile.
   "Yes," he answered honestly. "Very much so."
   "Good. We're going straight home then."

   Nick was sitting downstairs in the living room of the condo. September had
run straight upstairs as soon as they'd gotten home and told Nick in no
uncertain terms that he was to wait until she was ready for him. The
anticipation was driving him crazy. September had smoked two cigarettes on the
way home, showing the sort of calm style that marked her as an old-time
smoker.	
   There had been this silly- no stupid, he corrected- part of himself that
hadn't quite believed her story. After all, it hardly surprised him that she'd
figured him out. From the time he was twelve or thirteen- it was hard to
remember exactly when- he'd been taken by women smokers. He'd stare when he
could, steal glances when he couldn't, go to certain movies and watch certain
television shows.
   It was only a matter of time until September caught him.
   But he'd never imagined it might work out this way. When she'd said she'd
been a smoker a part of him simply thought he was being humoured.
   Until about two seconds after she'd lit that first cigarette.
   Now he was waiting with growing impatience for her to call him upstairs and
start the next phase of all this. He imagined her in some relative state of
undress, or at least underdress, a lit cigarette in hand, filling the pristine
cleanness of the bedroom with the sweet smell of white cigarette smoke. Soon
the bedroom would have that smell permanently. Soon, he hoped, the whole condo
would have that glorious smoker's smell.
   Finally she called to him and he had to fight the urge to run up the stairs,
to walk patiently because he knew he had to be reasonable about this. She'd
always been attractive to him, and even if their recent sexual encounters had
acquired a certain sameness, even staleness, she was marvelous, smoker or no.
If he was too enthusiastic-
   "Who am I kidding ?" he asked the walls.
   When he walked into the bedroom, his wildest fantasies were fulfilled. She
had to be on her second cigarette since returning, because the room was as
smoky as their favourite bar.
   She was wearing the t-shirt from the package, long black stockings, and-
   The and was hard to tell, he could see through the shirt that her bra was
black, but whether or not she was wearing panties, was up for discussion- or
discovery. He took a step towards her-
   "Not yet. Sit down." Her voice was sultry. Smoky. She exhaled a long jet of
white smoke and he moved to the papasan, which had been placed in the centre
of the room for him. She was smiling broadly. Another inhale, deep,
mysterious. Boy, did she know how to smoke. She held the smoke in her lungs a
very long time, until he almost wished he could be that smoke, and then she
exhaled, through the nose, smoke encircling her.
   She walked closer. It was a merry prance. Again the cigarette went to the
lips, those pouty, unpainted lips. She ran her hand along the inside of her
thigh and he saw that she was indeed not wearing any panties. That hand moved
farther and father up as she double pumped for him, until she was clearly
playing with herself.
   Nick unzipped his pants to allow his hard on to express itself properly.
   "Don't you want to touch yourself ?" she asked, and Nick nodded. He brought
his hand to the very end of the head of his penis and began a slow ticklish
stroking. The semi-flaccid aspect of his stiffness faded until he was as hard
as a rod. She stepped closer, just out of arm's reach. She met his eyes with
her. They were wide open, a light Jamaican sea water blue, sparkling with
sexual energy. Her hand continued to work it's magic until her breathing was
ragged, broken only by a series of deep, sensuous inhales. Rather than
exhaling, she allowed the smoke from each inhale to seep back out of her mouth
and nose.
   His experience was that she closed her eyes when she was close to orgasm. But
not this time.
   Just before he came, she finally made contact. Her hand replaced his, and his
hers. As he came, she bent down, eyes still wide open, and kissed him. Her
mouth was full of smoke as she did, and as her probing tongue twisted and
writhed, she forced that smoke down into his lungs. Then she climaxed, biting
his lip playfully as she brought her hand away from him.
   "You'd better go wash that off," he said breathlessly, but she was not of a
mind to do any such thing. Instead, she lifted his shirt, smearing his
ejaculate on his chest. She then reached down and stubbed out her cigarette in
a well-placed ashtray and slowly licked the cum from his chest, each stroke of
her tongue driving him a little closer to ecstatic madness.
   
   There was a whole weekend of that, punctuated only by meals and a trip to the
store for a carton of cigarettes which September expected would last her at
least two weeks. She was still planning on only smoking when they were
together, and even then only when they were in places where Nick could afford
to have a blazing hard on. In a way it worried September. The sex had been
marvelous, varied, and intense. But every single time she lit a cigarette,
Nick went hard. He'd gone home at ten last night, walking out the door with a
woody so intense he'd never have fit through the door if he'd turned sideways.
   There was such a thing as too much of a good thing.
   Still, they were supposed to have lunch together, so she slipped a fresh pack
and her lighter into her purse. The truth was, she'd spend all morning looking
forward to the moment that she'd step outside the Barnes and Nobles and light
that first cigarette of the day.
   She thought about having one now, lighting up just before she got in the car
for the half hour drive to work. But there was a little voice inside telling
her she wasn't really a smoker now. Not in the lighting a cigarette because
she needed/wanted one sense, anyway.
   She kept telling herself that all the way to the bookstore, and it seemed to
be working.

   Candice walked into her office just as she was getting off the phone with a
rep from Random House, who'd offered to slip a little something her way if
she'd up the store's orders by ten percent. Typical New York big house antics.
She politely refused, because there was only one thing Muriel hated, and that
was overstock.
   "You must have done nothing all weekend but ball Nick," Candice said.
Sometimes when she spoke she did a marvelous job of hiding her Ivy League
education. Then again, September still couldn't figure out why a woman who'd
appeared on stage at Yale and had two published- and performed- plays was
still grinding out the 9 to 5 routine in a bookstore.
   `Money' she always said, but September had an idea the woman just worked
better- her real work- when she had to cram it into four hours a day plus
weekends.
   "How-" September asked, as if she didn't know.
   "You're glowing like Homer Simpson after a day at the plant. What happened ?"
   September indicated the chair opposite her desk, but the twenty-five year old
playwright/actress/buyer shook her full head of soft red hair and flashed her
pearly white teeth smile, which lit her beautiful face like a lighthouse.
   "Time to take my first twelve minute break. Want to bend the rules and join
me ?"
   Muriel actually had two rules. The first was never overbuy. You could always
get more. The second was- well Muriel herself was a two pack a day Virginia
Slims smoker. Of course, she smoked in her office, but that sanctum sanctorium
was the only smoking area in the building. The rest of the full-timers, twelve
women and two men, had a choice. For smokers, five twelve minute breaks and
half an hour for lunch. For non-smokers- the two men, September (lately,
anyway), and a virulent anti-smoker named Penny (they called her Penny-Pinched
because of her puritanical attitudes about the good things of life, like
smoking, drinking, and sex) got two fifteen minute breaks and an hour for
lunch. The only caveat was that the smokers had to smoke on their breaks-
which had, ironically, been the catalyst for four of the women picking up the
habit.
   Candice had smoked since she was twelve, and it certainly hadn't stunted her
growth. She was a leggy, full breasted five-nine, the sort of woman who could
have sold books on proper masturbation techniques to Jesse Helms. When she
smiled, men melted. When she laughed at their jokes they fell at her feet,
worshipful puddles of sticky goo.
   It was fun to watch.
   And the truth was that September had had the same nagging sensation ever
since she'd gotten up this morning. It wasn't really nagging. It was actually
pleasant, when she stopped to think about it.
   Very pleasant.
   "Let me just send Muriel an e-mail that I'm switching to the smoking
schedule."
   Candice's face lit up. "You don't need to do that, Septy."
   "I want to."
   Truer words had never been spoken.
   
   "So you found out that Nick gets off on women smoking, huh ?"
   "Yeah. In a big way."
   "It just goes to show how different two lives can be," Candice said as she
lit her second cigarette. Although she clearly enjoyed the deep inhale that
she took, there was a frown on her face which was unmistakable.
   "What's wrong ?"
   "Well, nothing now. I dumped Derek over the weekend."
   September lit her second cigarette. Fuck the health insurance rates. This was
more than worth it.
   "Why ?"
   "Well, I haven't seen you much lately, so you probably don't know. Derek and
I hadn't had sex in over a month. It was the whole smoking thing, you know. He
was giving me so much shit about it. I'd come home from work, take a shower,
brush my teeth, eat a garlic bagel, and all he would do was complain about how
I smelled and tasted like a cigarette. It was his fucking imagination, but
there was no way getting around it. he actually thought I'd quit for him. But
that's just an example of how controlling a little bastard he was."
   "What do you mean ?" September asked. The kernel of a very strange idea was
forming, one that would require outside help from two parties.
   "Well, you saw me in Requiem for Ninth Avenue. That part was so much fun to
play, and well, with the lack of a sex life- a month is like forever, not that
you'd know-" she added with a smile.
   September blushed.
   "The night after the last performance I thought I'd do a little something to
spark the old flame, you know. Derek had been a real grump all through the
run- he hates the whole acting gig because it takes me away from being at his
beck and call- well, I invited him over. You know those small community
college runs-"
   September didn't, but she merely inhaled and nodded as though she understood
the inner workings of small time theatrics. 
   "You buy your own costumes, that sort of thing. Well, I dressed up in that
tight black leather skirt, the black silkie, the black leather jacket and the
spiked heels. I took three showers, brushed out my mouth with raw baking soda,
put on his favourite perfume, poured him about two hands of scotch, and when
the doorbell rang I draped myself on the banister and said `Come in.'"
   September very much liked where this story was going.	
   "He walked in the door, I handed him the scotch. I thought he'd be at least
cool about it, you know."
   "He wasn't ? Except for the not smoking part, Nick would probably be all over
that."
   "I should be so lucky, then. Maybe you can clone the Nickster. He walked into
the kitchen, poured the scotch down the drain, walked past me mumbling `You
look like a whore,' and left. It was like I'd showed up at his parent's house
with a `Rent Me' sign on my forehead."
   "You didn't break up with him then ?"
   "I was holding on for the make-up sex. Which we never had."
   "Can I ask you something strange ?" September said.
   "Sure. That's what friends are for."
   "Would you be interested in having sex tonight ? I know someone who could
make you forget the last month in a big way."
   "I hope I understand your use of the term `big'," Candice joked.
   September nodded enthusiastically.

   Just before she went to meet Nick for lunch, September saw that she had e-
mail from Muriel. That was a surprise. Muriel had left early today- she was
taking delivery of her new car out in Samington.
   But that was Muriel. She'd probably sent it from her car.
   While she was driving. 
   September- Received your e-mail, and you can't believe how relieved I was.
I'm at a stop light, so this has to be brief. The increase in you health
benefits coverage will be more than offset by your promotion- to Penny's spot
as Assistant Manager. Penny and I had another fight about my smoking in MY
office. She quit. That was a week ago. I hadn't said anything because while I
wanted to offer you the job, I've declared Penny's office, since it's next to
mine, a smoking office. Which meant I had to hire a smoker. I wanted you for
the job all along. Now I can have you. Starting next week you'll be on the
executive lunch schedule. Of course, you're still free to smoke with Candice-
or have her in your office whenever she's in need.
   M.
   September smiled broadly. Good things really did happen in threes.

   When Nick had gotten the call from September that they'd be taking a short
lunch, he'd been disappointed, until she explained why.
   She wasn't just smoking for him. She was a full-blown smoker. That was too
cool.
   But the conversation sure had gotten weird when she called in her favour.
   "Remember that you promised to do something for me ?" she asked, and from
there, the conversation had taken the weirdest imaginable turn.
   She was following him discreetly.
   He pulled up to the corner she'd told him about, and there was Candice. In
the glow of the arc-sodium light, she was gorgeous, even though her clothes,
while expensive and sexy as all hell, were definitely low-rent.
   He rolled down his window.
   "Hey, you looking for a date ?" she asked.
   "Sure am," he replied, wondering why he was so fucking nervous. He wasn't
picking up a real hooker, after all.
   She got in the car. Her smell was all leather and cigarette smoke, a
wonderful mix.
   A part of him- a very small part- wanted to take her right here in the car.
   He rolled her window up, but only part way.
   "I have to ask you a serious question," she said.
   Nick blanched. He had his doubts that either of them would be able to carry
this strange scene out. Was the beautiful, busty Candice having second
thoughts ?
   "Do you mind if I smoke ?"
   "I mind if you don't, Candice," Nick replied, half-relieved.
   "Call me Candy, Nick."
   She then popped in the cigarette lighter, and as he watched her take that
first deep inhale, any doubts about his ability to do what September wanted of
him evaporated like the smoke from Candice's exhale trailing out the car
window.

   He'd taken the slow route home, as instructed, which gave September plenty of
time to tuck his car- she'd insisted he take her Saab for some reason- in the
garage.
   During that time, he and Candice- he couldn't bring himself to call her Candy
because she was too sweet, too smart, and too beautiful to be a Candy girl-
had warmed to one another considerably. They'd gone so far as to spend the
time at the last stoplight making out. The sweet taste of smoke on her breath-
that was the real candy. 
   They hadn't talked about why this was what September wanted. It was
understood that they wouldn't, which made it easier.
   And it was going to easy, as far as Nick was concerned. He'd learned over the
weekend that not only did September turn him on, but he-
   Oh, it might seem trite, but he knew he loved her.
   And if this made her happy-
   Well, he'd sleep with Candice as often as they wanted.
   They snuck into the house. None of the lights were on, and except for the
smell of fresh cigarette smoke, there was no hint of anyone inside. They went
straight upstairs to the bedroom, Candice undressing Nick a lit bit with each
step. By the time they crossed into September's now smoky bedroom, his jeans
were down around his ankles. Candice stopped him and engaged him in the most
delicious kiss. 
   Then she lit a cigarette and whispered into his ear.
   "Undress me."
   The leather was tight. Very tight. By the time he'd gotten her down to the
leather bra and panty set that Candice had insisted on wearing on stage to get
her into the part, he was so hard that Candice had to go out of her way not to
touch him. He was just undoing the bra strap as the last step when she moved
over to the bed so that she could stub out her cigarette and light another.
   As the flame caught the tip of the cigarette and she inhaled deeply, he came
anyway.
   "Sorry," he said apologetically the aftercum dribbled from his penis. Her
stomach was covered with what he'd not been able to contain. He was
embarrassed that this had happened twice in three days. To two different
women.
   But Candice wasn't upset. "I wish I'd had that effect on my last boyfriend."
   She led him over to the bed. Her one free hand continued to work him, keeping
hard in a way that wasn't painful. They lay down side by side and she propped
herself up by the elbow and smoked for him. He stayed amasingly erect until he
could find the strength to start again. They began by sharing a series of soft
smoky kisses as began the act of penetration. He took it slowly, allowing her
to form herself around him as she worked the cigarette. It seemed as though
the entire act would be this way, passionate but slow, almost plodding.
   And then she finished the cigarette, twisted him underneath her, and began to
run her hand along his ribs, faster and harder until he thought the skin
itself must burn. The sweet kisses turned to frenetic lip locking, their
tongues mirroring the work he was doing in lower anatomical areas. She thrust
her hips back and forth as he pushed time and again until finally Candice
threw her head back on her long, gorgeous neck and screamed.
   He hadn't come yet. He would have gladly in just a moment, but as soon as her
orgasm was complete, she slipped up and away.
   He was bewildered for only an instant. Thinking she was going to quickly
light a cigarette, she surprised him by instead burying his penis in her long
soft red hair. Suddenly their was the faint wisp of tongue on head, and then
she encircled him with her mouth and began frantically working with her mouth
while stroking his shaft with her supple hand.
   He came almost at once, and then she lit a cigarette.
   As she rolled back, head on his chest, the closet door opened. September
stepped out into the room. Although she was wearing jeans, they wear undone at
the waist. She still hand her right hand inside her panties, but judging by
her ragged breathing, she had already masturbated quite successfully. She was
smoking a recently lit cigarette.
   Candice smiled at her friend. She'd been so afraid that this would be
awkward, but now that she was standing there with that smile on her face, she
knew everything would be all right.
   "Thanks, Candice," September said, walking towards the bed.
   Her friend looked at Nick as she said "It was great- but I should be going-"
   There was the faintest look of disappointment on Nick's face at the abrupt-
but necessary, he admitted, change of mood. Candice gathered up her clothes
and slipped into the bathroom as September settled on the bed beside him.
   "Are you sure you don't want to pretend that you just caught me with the
other woman ?" Nick teased.
   September was too much in throws of enjoying her fantasy come true to laugh
or answer jokingly. "No. The whole fantasy was visual, I guess. I knew it
would be."
   "And you're-"
   "Sure I don't want to talk about why. I just want to lie here and smoke until
you're ready to go again, and then I want you to-"
   He reached out and stroked her face with his hand even as those lovely cheeks
of hers sank inward, pulling smoke into her lungs. He moved his hand down to
her throat so that he could feel the exhale. Before it happened he rolled up
onto his elbow and leaned over her. She made it a slow, billowing nose exhale
which he was able to drink from with his nose.
   Then he looked down and saw that she was still clearly pleasuring herself.
her hand was moving wildly, probing deeper and more frantically.
   He bent down and kissed her, placing his hand over hers, enjoying her wanton
sexuality, her irresistible need. Almost before she broke the kiss and turned
her head the cigarette was in her mouth again, and as she inhaled, he found
himself pulling at her jeans, vainly trying to get them to slide down.
   She sat up effortlessly and shook them off without moving her hand at all.
   The cigarette, still only half-consumed, was resting in her mouth. There was
no way to get her shirt off over her head like that, so he grabbed an handful
of each side of the back of the collar and tore the shirt off her. She arched
her neck as he did it. He began to reach for the bra, but then she started a
low, plaintive moan which was the beginning of it for her. He settled for
using his teeth while both of his hands went to her breasts and began an
intense stroking of her hardened nipples.
   She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and lay back, allowing Nick to drape
himself around her. He brought his mouth to the right nipple and began to
suckle it. The hand holding the cigarette ran through his hair and then he was
bathed in fresh, wonderful smoke.
   But September didn't climax. She finished her cigarette. Lit another.
   Her hands moved as though on fire. But still-
   Finally Nick understood. Her eyes were open again, and there was great depth
in them. He could see the answer when he looked hard, in the glow of the light
coming from under the bathroom door.
   As long as it takes, he thought.
   He had to force her hand away, so intent was she on what she'd been doing. He
replaced her flesh with his own, holding himself up on his hands so that she
could continuing smoking. Which she did.
   Every thrust was marked by an inhale or exhale. He timed it that way, going
slowly, going deeply, and each unique twist was accompanied by the sort of
gratuitous smoking-
   But it wasn't gratuitous. He knew better. She was enjoying it for it's own
merits and not because he wanted her to do it, just as she had enjoyed
watching him from behind a closet door a short time ago.
   This time they were able to time it perfectly, everything reaching conclusion
in one instant that became one moment. Finally, they sank back onto the bed
next to one another, each of them spent in different ways.
   It was a long while before either of them spoke, and when Nick did, he broke
the promise that he had made to September at lunch today.
   "I still have to ask, September. I'm sorry, but why was that your fantasy ?"
   "Get that was out of your vocabulary, Nick. After tonight, if you think
that's going to be the last time I arrange a `date' between you and Candice,
you're crazy."
   "But-"
   "Why ? I know. Why do enjoy watching women smoke ? I'll bet you can't point
back to the formative instant where your dick started getting hard every time
an attractive woman lit up. What I can't understand is how it is that you
never started smoking yourself."
   "That's not what it's about, I guess," Nick said. "Look, I won't ask again. I
think you're right. We each have our own fetishes, and I can't say I'm in any
hurry to complain about yours."
   September drew deeply on the cigarette and bathed Nick in her wonderful,
sweet smoke.
   "Good. Because Candice is free again Wednesday night-"
   "I'll be here," he said with a smile, and kissed her sensuously smoky mouth.