Starting Stacey, Part 2

PART2
As you recall, Stacey and I now shared two evenings together of smoking 
at the parking lot.  That lone cigarette somehow found its way in the 
backseat of the car, so Stacey and I shared it.  Stacey was the victor of 
the last drag, which she did so like a pro.  As I watched, she took a 
hard draw on the orange filter while rolling down her passenger window.  
As if in one motion, Stacey inhaled and with the butt pinched between her 
fingers she flicked it out the window.  As she rolled the window back up, 
Stacey exhaled a long creamy stream through the crack of the window with 
her lips diverted in that direction.

Stacey and I then returned to our romantic ritual of kissing and 
touching.  The car was filled with the remnants of spent tobacco smoke 
and Stacey's kisses lingered the effect.  As we kissed my memory kept on 
replaying the vision of Stacey smoking.  Her style was always an inhale 
and then a steady exhale.  I remember that I could not mimic her style, 
but rather my exhales would continue for two to three times after an 
inhale.  Was this because Stacey's lungs were so strong that she could 
purge the smoke in one stream?  I could not remember back to my first 
time smoking like this.

My fetish with Stacey's smoking glamour was all consuming, after all I 
still had more fresh Newports left in the car.  In order to watch Stacey 
smoke again, however, meant that I would have to confess to the ways of 
my deception.  Could I really tell Stacey this?

As anyone who is a smoker knows, you always say that you'll quit after 
you finish the pack.  The urge to smoke can be as addictive as drugs, so 
I'm told.  The one thing that I knew was that at fifteen I was not on 
drugs, this was legal, and I just wanted to smoke with Stacey.  I was 
going to have another cigarette and let the answers to Stacey's questions 
come later!  So, I reached under my car seat for the Newport box, flipped 
the lid and withdrew a cigarette.  From the corner of my eye, I could see 
Stacey watching.

"Want to split another one?" I asked.
"Sure."

I thought to myself.  Wait a minute, what's with "sure."  Is this girl in 
synch with what's happening here? Tonight? In this car?

It's hard to believe, but Stacey didn't seem to mind that I still had the 
box of Newports.  I let her light the cigarette for us and began the 
exchange of sharing puffs.  Okay, this girl was cool.  As we continued to 
smoke it, I found it easy to tell Stacey the truth of my story.  The 
truth was that I was comfortable with Stacey, and she was sitting there 
smoking; so how could there be a problem in this?  Wasn't.  We talked 
about it and reached the conclusion that if we wanted to smoke, we would 
do it together and no one else would have to know.  It was our thing.

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