Honor Among Thieves, Part 1

HONOR AMONG THIEVES 
By Smokehut 

PART ONE 

The first week of preseason football practice at Faulkner High School 
wasn't at the school's athletic facilities. Instead, Coach Harry Hargett 
bused both team, band and cheerleaders to camp in the mountains, about a 
hundred miles from Faulkner. Harry Hargett rented a Baptist church camp. 
The campus consisted of separate sets of cabins, about a quarter mile 
apart. The football players occupied one side of the camp, cheerleaders and 
band the other. Between the two compounds existed a large cabin that 
doubled as dining hall and recreation center. 

Josh Tomlinson couldn't sleep. He was in agony. Late that afternoon, the 
team's second in camp, he had leaped for a pass near the sideline and been 
hammered unmercifully by a sophomore cornerback clearly intent on 
impressing Coach Hargett. The cornerback, whose name was Marcus Lindsay, 
had ground his helmet into the small of Josh's back. Just as Josh had 
pulled the ball in, Lindsay had hit him with a full head of closing steam. 
Josh had landed out of bounds, landing on the ball as Lindsay, helmet still 
in Josh's back, crashed on top of him. Both players had been injured. 

Hargett had liked the fact that Josh held onto the ball. 

Josh scrambled slowly, painfully, out of his bottom bunk. The only sound in 
the room was his suppressed grunting. It took Josh about thirty seconds to 
straighten up. Gotta get loose, he thought, staggering carefully to the 
door. Again, no sound. Everyone, coaches and players alike, was sleeping 
soundly. Everyone but Josh. Like them, he was exhausted, but unlike them, 
he was in too much pain to sleep. He limped carefully down the steps and 
headed for the dining hall. When he got there, Josh walked over to the 
bushes outside the front windows and relieved himself. All the lights in 
the building were out. The only light came from the pale white of lights 
atop poles on either side of the building. 

The sound of Josh walking through the pine needles seemed amplified in what 
was otherwise complete quiet. Far, far away, Josh heard a wolf's howl. As 
he walked slowly, still grimacing and trying to alleviate the soreness, he 
someone sitting on the steps at the dining room's right side. 

Jessica Riggs, the most beautiful girl Josh had ever seen, was smoking a 
cigarette. Maybe she heard Josh moving slowly toward her. She must have 
known but didn't show it. Josh was walking too slowly to sneak up on 
anyone. Josh, without a word, just sat down beside Jessica, grunting as his 
ass landed on the steps. 

"Ooh," he whimpered, trying not to sound unmanly. 

Jessica turned slowly, holding the cigarette high. "Hello, Josh," she said. 

"Jessica," he said. "Can I bum a smoke?" 

"Sure," she said, profferring a pack of Marlboro Lights. "I didn't know you 
smoked?" 

"I know how," he said. 

"Do you think it's cool?" she asked. 

"Huh?" 

"Do you think it's cool? Do you think the fact that you found me here, at 
three in the morning, smoking a cigarette, do you think that's cool? 

Josh was glad it was dark. The answer to her question was obvious. He lit a 
cigarette and took a deep drag. 

"I think, uh, I don't have anything against it," he said. "I hurt myself in 
practice, and my back's killing me. I couldn't sleep so I came down here 
hoping the walk would loosen it up some." 

"I'm sorry," she said, "but you didn't answer my question? Do you think 
it's cool? Smoking. Me smoking." 

"Well, yeah," he said, "I guess so. It shows you're rebellious. It shows 
you don't want to be Miss Perfect Cheerleader. It shows you wanna be a 
little bit, you know, bad. Just 'cause, like, somebody tells you not to do 
something, that doesn't mean you shouldn't see for yourself. 

"It's cool as shit," Josh concluded. 

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep hit. "Me, too." 

Jessica turned toward him, looked Josh in the eyes, and exhaled a thin 
stream straight at him. The focus of his sensual command center shifted 
abruptly from the pain in his back and ribs to the bulge in his shorts. 

"Oh, my." Josh wasn't sure whether he thought or said it. 

"You said you knew how," Jessica said. 

"Huh?" 

"When you asked for a cigarette. When I said I didn't know you smoked, you 
said, 'I know how.' What did you mean by that?" 

"Well, you know, I just wanted you to know I was cool with it," he said. "I 
don't see any reason why we should keep a secret from each other." 

"Well, do you smoke or do you just know how to smoke? Did you, for 
instances, sneak some cigarettes up here to camp with you, just in case 
there was an opportunity like this one to sneak off." 

"No," he said. "I didn't even think about it, really. I didn't figure I'd 
be here, two days in, with my back fucked up, unable to sleep. It just 
didn't occur to me." 

"Well, then, in one sense, you don't smoke," Jessica said, pondering the 
subject. "Why, then, do you know how to smoke?" 

Josh took a deep breath. He was deeply aroused as he watched Jessica, 
staring through the pine trees at the stars and taking yet another drag. 

"Well, it's kind of complicated," he said. 

"Tell me," she said, smiling. "I got more cigarettes." 

"I wanted to be able to smoke without it being obvious that I didn't know 
how." 

"And, why is that?" 

Josh sighed again. Finally, he decided to answer truthfully. 

"Uh, well, if I saw this really hot girl, and she smoked, I wanted to be 
able to walk up and ask her if I could have one. I figured it would be a 
way to have a conversation." 

Jessica turned and smiled. She leaned a little toward him. She was wearing 
shorts and a top that barely contained her breasts. His eyes were unable to 
avoid trying to focus in the darkness on her tits. Josh was thankful for 
the darkness. 

"Do women who smoke turn you on?" 

Holy fuck, he thought. That's getting to the point. 

"Well, uh, I guess, yeah, I like women who smoke," he said, baring his 
soul. "I don't think it's, you know, weird or anything like that. I think 
it's just that I like women who are ... independent. Who don't want to be, 
uh, perfect by society's standards. I think, or it seems to me, that women 
who smoke are like that." 

"Does me smoking give you a hard-on?" 

There wasn't any further need to be coy. 

"No," said Josh. "You give me a hard-on. You smoking just gives me a bigger 
one." 

"Kiss me," she said. "Use your tongue." 

Their lips met. Their tongues intermingled. But the control center 
monitoring Josh Tomlinson's nerve endings was now deeply conflicted. As 
they kissed, Josh's entire body shuddered. Pain shot through him. He had to 
stop. Breathing heavily was difficult when breathing at all was agonizing. 

"Uh, uh ... my back's killing me. Oh, fuck." 

"Oh, poor baby," Jessica said. "You're too hurt to fuck." 

Tears welled up in Josh's eyes. He was speechless. 

"That's all right," she said. "I'll take you in my mouth. Just lie back, 
sweet baby. Jessica's gonna do all the work." 

The wooden steps were made out of cross ties, now slightly rotting amid the 
grass and gravel. Altogether, it wasn't as hard or severe as it might have 
been. Jessica lit a cigarette and handed it to him. Then she lit one for 
herself, took a deep draw, held it in and wrapped her lips around his cock. 
She let the warm smoke wrap its way around his member before she began 
working up and down, up and down. Josh's eyes, adapted to the darkness, 
watched as smoke curled from her nostrils with her breath as her head 
pumped subtly, up and down. Her touch was gentle, but it didn't take long 
for him to lose control. As the agony of his bruised back and ribs mingled 
with the ecstasy of Jessica performing fellatio, Josh's senses formed a new 
consensus. He loved the pain. Josh held his passion for as long as he could 
physically withstand it, but that wasn't long. His penis felt as if it were 
a spigot, suddenly yanked wide open. 

And pumping. 

She rose, gulped most of it down, ran the back of her hand across her lips, 
and Josh watched his sticky semen glisten as the light caught her lips. The 
cigarette in his right hand had almost burned down without him taking a 
single puff. Josh drew what little was left of it and took the biggest draw 
he could manage, heaving as if he had just run a hundred-yard dash. 

"Would you like a fresh one, stud?" Jessica asked. 

"Oh, God, yes," Josh stammered. 

Jessica gave him another cigarette and pulled out a Bic lighter. Josh was 
glad she didn't light this one for him. Jessica then lit another, her 
third, and crawled up to straddle him as he lie in the darkness. For now, 
his spent member was too tired to respond adequately, though Jessica rubbed 
ever so slightly against it. 

They each smoked, looking at each other with wonderment. Josh was thinking 
that he'd never loved anyone -- or anything -- so much. Jessica wore the 
look of utter conquest. She knew that she owned him. 

"How was that?" she asked brightly at about the time Josh was able to 
breathe with some degree of ease. 

"Great," he said. "Really, really, really, fucking great." 

"Good," she said. "Now it's my turn." 

"I, I ..." 

"Sure, you can, football star," Jessica said. "It's called playing hurt." 

"OK," Josh said, now feeling almost as if the devil were hovering above 
him. 

"Light another one," she said, handing it to him. "Now I want you to take a 
huge hit, hold it in and exhale -- slowly -- as you lick my pussy with all 
the tenderness and gentleness I expect." 

Then Jessica grabbed Josh's cock, which sprang to life and sent shock waves 
up his spine. 

"See," she said. "It's got a little something left." 

Feeling totally like her slave, Josh performed the duties assigned him with 
all the earnestness his damaged body could muster. 

When they were through, Jessica whispered, "You're so sweet. I put you 
through pain and you came through for me. You fucking big, gorgeous man. I 
love you. I fucking love you." 

"You didn't put me through pain," Josh said. "I came here with pain. You 
put me through pleasure. What in the fuck can I do for you? I'd rob a bank. 
I'd kill somebody. 

"I'd quit football." 

"No worries, Josh," she said. "The pleasure is mutual." 

Then she kissed him passionately and jacked him off with the hand that 
wasn't holding her fourth cigarette. 

Coach Hargett and the trainer were impressed when Josh showed up promptly 
for treatment at six a.m. 

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