#sexysmoking

The full #smokingfetish story, that basically got inspired from this one picture, somehow:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1F8ez3ykF_eYBhEjcFWxFMFuRFNAqZzfw/view?usp=drivesdk

Coast. A smoking fetish story.

//Intro: A click and a faint crackling sound gives way to the sound of human breathing.

I touch her face, in the photograph. It’s showing its age now. I have managed to never fold it, but of course nothing lasts forever, just like she said. The photo lives in a jewel CD case, alongside the most current ‘mixtape’ I have made, in an attempt to tell the story, in an abstracted and private way, through the records I play. A sound emerges from the speakers and I review the handwritten tracklisting; there is some quite up to date stuff here. I must have been reminiscing over her a lot more recently than I remember. This would be about right. I picture a detached house on a tree lined avenue.

// 1 Nathan Fake - Falmer.

The house next door to ours had been empty for years. We sometimes got inside and played in there as children, until one day when I was around 12 the owner, long ago consigned to some distant care home, finally sold it. There was a flurry of various tradespeople, coming and going for a couple of months, then two brand new cars appeared on the driveway and there were lights on in the evening. We answered the door to a friendly couple; Pippa and her husband introduced themselves, handing my mum a big bunch of flowers. They made a good impression and quickly became friends with everyone on the street. My mum, I think, saw Pippa as some kind of younger sister and they grew very close. Pippa, and sometimes her husband, who worked away a lot, would come round for cups of tea, have dinner and maybe drinks of an evening. We would all go to pubs and restaurants together from time to time. We looked after their plants and watched their house when they went away, and they did the same for us.

It wasn’t long though before the husband disappeared. I don’t even remember his name. He worked for a bank, he must have been quite high up because they had lots of money and he must have been twenty years older than Pippa. I came home from the skatepark one afternoon and heard Pippa in tears in our kitchen, mum comforting her. He had upped and left, for no apparent reason, there had been no warning, but Pippa had had suspicions something was going on with a colleague of his. She was keeping the house, she had said, she would be okay for money. I didn’t get the full story, I wouldn’t have understood at the time anyway.

// 2 Ólafur Arnalds, Nana Bryndis - Particles.

I wasn’t a stranger to smoking. Mum had always smoked, but not heavily, and dad might have a cigarette if he had been drinking. Naturally I had tried smoking, hanging around with my friends, but it hadn’t caught on with me, yet. My relationship with nicotine would be a different story. There was however something about smoking I kept thinking about, and as my early teenage years went on, I discovered lust, I discovered my penis and masturbation, and when I did masturbate, I began to imagine girls I fancied smoking. I felt odd about this at first, but it wasn’t something I could block out; I would involuntarily think about cigarettes and imagine girls smoking when I touched myself. So I realised that smoking turned me on, and I would go on to learn that this wasn’t entirely unusual, many people have a fetish, and it’s possible to have fetishes for a wide range of things. But yes, I felt different for a long time.

This is where Pippa became an important part of my adolescence. I’d always thought she was very beautiful, she was about 5ft 4, slim with long, wavy brown hair and a wide, infectious smile. It’s her voice that’s never left me, though. Pippa should have been on the radio. I always felt like asking her if she had had elocution lessons or something; she seemed to have no accent, and spoke articulately with clear enunciation and with a tone made irresistibly gravelly and low by her smoking. I told her how much I liked her voice once, she was so flattered, she thanked me so warmly, she blew a kiss at me across our kitchen table. I began to develop a huge crush on her.

Pippa was a committed smoker, she had smoked since she was 14, and at that time her own mother had accepted her as a smoker and had even bought her cigarettes and taught her to smoke properly. It was clear that she loved it too; she always smiled a radiant smile as she took a cigarette out of her packet, and if she didn’t have a cigarette going, her packet would never be far away. I remember her telling my mum one day, as I made them coffee in the kitchen, about her mum teaching her; she talked about smoking being ladylike, glamourous, alluring. Cigarettes, she explained, “had to be 100s or Superkings, or longer if possible”, my mum’s brand of choice was Berkeley Superkings so Pippa was certainly among friends. Pippa herself smoked Silk Cut 100s most of the time but she often smoked different brands, and I used to peek into her handbag sometimes and I’d be excited to see another 2 or 3 different packets of cigarettes in there. I stole one once. She had been at our house, about to light up when something outside had distracted her. She put the cigarette down and went outside, the postman was knocking at her door with a recorded delivery. I saw her unlit cigarette on our table, it had a stain from her lipstick on it, and the way it looked got me so turned on. I quickly slipped it into my pocket and ran up to my room. I had never been so excited! I now had one of Pippa’s cigarettes that had been between her lips. I kept it for a long time and I would get it out of my bedside drawer and masturbate while I looked at it, held it, maybe put it in my mouth, and thought of Pippa.

I realise that the origins of any fetish are not always clear, many schools of thought often relate it to one’s mother, but I like to think that Pippa is responsible for my smoking fetish. I guess mum was a great smoker, but I could never think of things that way. There were countless times I caught sight of Pippa smoking; she came round to our house all the time and she and mum would talk for hours, and obviously smoke too. I’d only have to see her lifting her cigarette to her lips, into that smile for a split second and if I could get away with it, I’d retreat straight to my bedroom and masturbate furiously. My bedroom was at the back of the house and overlooked our gardens, and on one hot afternoon, Pippa was sunbathing in a bikini. I positioned myself at the window so I could secretly watch her. She lit a cigarette and laid back, blowing a plume of smoke up into the still summer air. I was out of control with desire and almost as soon as I touched my cock I came into my boxer shorts.

// 3 Jon Hopkins - Light Through The Veins.

Time flew, so I was told. I thought those last years of school seemed to stretch on forever. I did schoolwork, I skated, I played computer games, I hung around with my friends. 1996 became 1997. I listened to a lot of R.E.M. Tony Blair won the general election, dad stood in the kitchen that morning telling us how great a day this was (actually this did mark the start of some great days, but as for Blair being the reason, the jury remains out). A desk with a computer appeared in our living room, and the modem’s scratchy dial tones became a staple sound of our household. Pippa seemed to know a lot about computers and she helped to set it up, showing mum and I how to do things and she even fixed it when it went wrong. I quickly became proficient in it’s use. Alone at home once, I searched on Yahoo! for 'sexy smoking’ and I gawped, mouth wide open, as pictures of celebrities like Jennifer Aniston, Elizabeth Hurley and others brandishing cigarettes appeared line by line on the screen. I read forums, articles and discussions, discovering that I was not at all alone in having this fetish. I felt vindicated. Above all, I fantasised about Pippa. She was the gift that kept on giving; smoking her cigarettes in her back garden, in her car before she drove off her driveway, sat at our kitchen table. 1997 became 1998. School, ostensibly, was serious now.

As I took my exams, Pippa began to take more of an interest in me, not of course that she had ever ignored me, I just don’t think she knew what to say to me, and being the awkward teenager that I was, I had no idea what I might have done if she did. It turned out she did know what to say. I sat at the table with her one day, while mum dealt with a caller at the door, and she got me talking about my exams, what I’d do in the autumn, my life at school. She made me feel so at ease around her, I honestly think if a girl my own age who I found as attractive as Pippa spoke to me I would have fainted. It had never sunk in with me before, but she held a degree in chemistry and had wanted to teach science in secondary schools. Her husband, she explained somewhat resentfully, had discouraged her, he had lots of money, he wanted a housewife. If I hadn’t been reasonably 'good at school’ and quite curious myself, certainly I was lauded by my teachers, I may have been intimidated by Pippa’s intellect; she easily understood the concepts I had covered in my coursework and even suggested some ideas that helped as I studied for my exams. That said, she had never beaten me at Scrabble, despite being there for many of our family’s games. Mum put the kettle back on and rejoined the table, I made my excuses as Pippa carefully put out her cigarette in the ashtray and reached for her packet. “I’ll talk to you soon” she smiled at me, a last wisp of smoke escaping from her mouth. Back in my bedroom I replayed what I had just seen and I masturbated twice in a row. I must have looked like a rabbit in her headlights, but if she saw it that way she didn’t let on. She looked at me a little differently after that day, we spoke more. My crush on her became so deep.

Then came my final exam, 3 hours of maths on a Friday morning. I’d spent the previous evening tombstoning down at the pier with my friends instead of studying, but I was confident anyway. I had always been good at maths. Pippa must have seen me leaving, and she rushed out of her house to wish me luck. She was still in pyjamas, and had a packet of cigarettes tucked into her cleavage. I walked to school in a daze, thinking about her every single step of the way, I even found my thoughts drifting to her during the exam too. Despite my wandering mind I thought I had done as well as predicted.

// 4 Essáy - Archangel.

After the exam some friends and I went into town, we had lunch at McDonald’s, checked out the shops, went to the bowling alley for a while. There was a big group of us, girls too, some of whom were smoking so of course I had a great time. I felt slightly sad though that I didn’t have any kind of girlfriend, some of my friends did and I envied them, having somebody to share everything with, to sit there holding hands, to kiss. I had never had a huge opinion of myself, and puberty had arrived pretty late and wasn’t being kind to me at all. I didn’t fancy my chances! Deep down I knew that girlfriends would happen when they happened, but I’d sometimes get laughed at by the other guys for my lack of experience, and I hated it. Eventually everyone parted ways; some of the group are friends of mine to this day, some I never saw again. All was good, I pondered, walking home that afternoon. I pretty much knew I’d easily passed all my exams, in a few days i would start working a few hours a day in a warehouse not far away, earn a bit of money. Sixth form would start in the autumn, that ought to be an easy ride. The day was about to get even better.

I arrived home to to see my sister, and her boyfriend, mum making a fuss of them as they sat at the table. They had both just graduated from university and would be staying for a couple of weeks. Dad came in from the garage and said that his brother and wife were on their way to visit us too. All in all, a cause for a celebration! We would meet my uncle and aunt at a pub on the harbourside, and a table had been booked for 8 at mum’s favourite restaurant. Very much an adult setting, but as dad had said to me, of course I was coming. I guess I was the child of quite liberal parents, I had always been allowed to try the wines or other drinks on our dinner table, in fact mum and dad would normally buy some booze for my friends and I if we were going to any parties. When I turned 16, mum offered me a cigarette and told me that, while she would prefer it if I didn’t, if I did smoke it was going to be okay to do that in my room or around them. I asked why the table was for 8, I only counted 7 of us. That’s when I heard the front door click, and Pippa walked in. Of course she would be joining us, she was pretty much a member of our family now, and I was very pleased with this. She greeted everyone warmly, got introduced to Alex, my sister’s boyfriend. She had heard a lot about him. Pippa got on well with my sister too and I knew they talked on the phone from time to time.

“It looks like it’s a couple’s night this evening…” she said to everybody, taking a seat at the table, but looking at me. “Perhaps, Matthew, you would like to be my date? I don’t want to be a gooseberry. Do you think your girlfriend would mind?” We all laughed. “Matt? A girlfriend? This is news to me! Come on tell us the news!” my sister interjected, excitedly. “No, no.” I assured her “I don’t have any girlfriends, but Pippa, it would be my pleasure, it really would.” I blushed. Pippa smiled at me as she placed her packet of cigarettes on the table. She wouldn’t have known it would be my first date ever. Even if it wasn’t a proper date I was determined to enjoy it as one.

“There’s a taxi for us due in quarter of an hour mate, go and get yourself ready.” my dad said to me. I took a quick shower, put on a Ben Sherman shirt, coming back downstairs just as the cab arrived. We got dropped off on the quay. The usual busy summer evening, drinkers shoulder to shoulder all the way along the harbour wall, marauding gulls stealing chips, the sounds and smells of my hometown. We joined my aunt and uncles table in The Anchor, and greetings were exchanged, introductions made. Mum and Pippa went to the bar for drinks while I sat down next to my sister.

Pippa wore tight jeans, flip flops, a red vest top under a little black leather jacket with cropped arms. A thin gold watch, gold bangles and gold hoop earrings shimmered in the sunlight that shone through the window. She shared my mum’s flame to light a cigarette and I noticed that her nails matched her lipstick, a glossy red. Being in the pub was a real treat, beautiful, well dressed women smoking, everywhere, but Pippa of course stole the show. She looked proud, stood at the bar, her freshly lit cigarette dangling from her lips. Her cheeks hollowed in as she took a drag, almost in slow motion, then exhaled a burst of smoke and laughed at something the barman, who she appeared to know, had said to her. I snapped back to reality when my sister punched my arm, “I know you’ve got a crush on her Matt but seriously, put your tongue away!”. I looked round to her “Oh God sorry! I was miles away!”. “We know!” she laughed, then lowered her voice a little and leant in towards me. “Listen, you didn’t hear it from me, but she’s told me that she’s 'very fond’ of you” she made a quotation mark gesture, “you’ll have to make what you will of that, but you know her and I talk, and she talks about you! At the moment you’re like a puppy though. You need to stop it.” She nudged me, I smiled and tried, failed, not to watch Pippa, now arranging drinks on a tray, cigarette still between her lips.

Mum and Pippa bought the drinks to the table and the evening began in earnest. Great company, no drama, no pressure, nothing adverse on the horizon. Dad beamed with pride at the head of the table, his daughter now holding a master’s degree, his son set to do well from school, his family around him. I knew he had been smoking dope in the garage, so he was also probably quite stoned. We laughed and joked and raised glasses to one another. These were the glory days, for sure. Pippa sat by my side. From her handbag she pulled another lighter, and she handed it to me. “Now, Matthew. You know I would only ever date a real gentleman don’t you?” I nodded. “And a real gentleman would always at least offer to light a ladie’s cigarette for her. So this lighter is for you to keep, I mean, I know you don’t smoke, and you shouldn’t” she winked at me “but it’s worth being able to give a light. It’s a good way to get a girl talking too.” My sister agreed too, before turning away to answer something my uncle had asked. Pippa took a cigarette from her packet, open on the table. “I’m sorry, I never asked. Do you mind if I smoke?” She asked. “Of course I don’t Pippa, go ahead” I responded, knowing I’d like what was about to happen. “Good. That’s good. Cigarettes are very important to me” she was almost whispering “and if someone doesn’t like that I smoke, it’s definitely a deal-breaker.” She delicately placed her cigarette between her lips and looked at me. I wouldnt need to be asked here, I held the lighter up and clicked on the flame. She touched my hand as she moved in, bringing the tip of her cigarette to the flame and closing her lips around it. “Thankyou.” She smiled at me, after exhaling up into the air. We talked a little, mainly about what had been in my exam that morning, before my uncle announced it was time to go and get our table at the restaurant.

We had a fantastic dinner, it had to be said. The seats had changed, and I sat between my aunt and uncle now. We had plenty to talk about, my uncle owned a car dealership, he was a really tall, fat man who rarely stopped talking, a con artist without doubt but he was on my side. Of course he had work for me, if college and the like didn’t work out. I kept in mind Pippa’s lesson just now, and when my aunt accepted a cigarette from my mum, I said “Allow me…” and quickly produced my lighter for her. Pippa noticed this, sat opposite me, and nodded at me, smiling. She turned her attention back to my sister, and they resumed giggling like little girls about something, I would never know what.

More wine was drunk, although I had declined any more beer, I had learned to know when it’s time to stop quite early on, luckily. Coffee was served, and as discussion focused on what to do next, Pippa walked round to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, she leaned down to talk to me. “I have to go to work in the morning Matthew. Do you think you would be kind enough to walk me home?” I could have jumped out of my chair. “Yeah of course I will. Are you ready now?” “Give me 5 minutes.” she replied. It had been a long day, it had gotten late, everyone else was a bit drunk by now and I didn’t exactly feel like trying to get into any more pubs and clubs at my age would be any fun.

We said goodbyes and I opened the door of the restaurant for her to walk out before me. “Let’s walk the seafront way” she suggested, getting out a cigarette and tucking the packet in between her breasts. As I gave her a light I agreed, I’d like that. We walked slowly up the quayside, past the old port and onto the seafront. “Tell me. Why don’t you have a girlfriend Matthew?” Pippa asked. “Ohh I don’t know, perhaps if I did, I could solve that problem… I’ve never had much luck”. Pippa dragged on her cigarette. “Have you never had a girlfriend at all then?” She asked. I was embarrassed now. I stammered a little and went to lie, to say I had, I wasn’t far off turning 17 and I’d kissed one girl, quick but memorable one evening when we had got drunk in the fields above the holiday park. I thought better of lying to her and I told her that story. She looked at me with a curious mix of sympathy and excitement. She murmured as she dragged on her cigarette again, before speaking. “Take it from me, those girls don’t know what they’re missing. You’re going to be a fine man. Maybe I’ll teach you a few things. You could have girls banging down the door!” she laughed, her smile was like a floodlight now.

We passed the fairground, set up for the summer by the clock tower. I nudged Pippa. “Fancy going on a ride with me?” She crushed her cigarette in the ground and beamed at me “Do you know what? Yes. Yes! I would love to! Matthew you’re making me feel young again. This is a good thing…” We walked onto the waltzer podium, I paid the attendant the ticket price and we sat down together in one of the cars. “It has to be fifteen years since I’ve been in one of these, excuse me! Go easy on us will you? I’m getting too old now!” she called to the attendant, who nodded and gave a dark smile. He did not go easy. A fun ride, but I was probably still young enough to cope with all the spinning and ups and downs. When we stopped, Pippa had to wait a moment to recover from the dizziness, I offered her my hand to help to her out of the car. “Thankyou. Oh god why did we do that?! I feel awful!” she was laughing, it can’t have been that bad. Still hand in hand, I guided her off the platform. Under the coloured fairy lights, she slid a new cigarette from the pack between her breasts. Of course I was ready and offered her a flame. She cupped her hands around mine and brought her cigarette to life with a long, hard drag, she closed her eyes briefly and I savoured the sight of her. “Oh that’s better” she exhaled “I’m still so dizzy Matthew, would you link arms with me please? I feel like I could fall over…” I was so proud. We walked the rest of the way back arm in arm. Each time she blew out cigarette smoke she blew it straight ahead, and it almost felt as if we walked through a cloud together.

I walked Pippa to her door. “Well, it’s been a lovely evening. Thankyou for being my date tonight.” I blushed “No, Pippa honestly, the pleasure has been all mine! Thank you.” Stood on her doorstep we were now the same height. “Listen Matthew, if you didn’t already know I’ll be round on Sunday to see your mum, you’d need to ask me if you could see me again, and I would definitely, definitely, say yes. Now, I think a kiss goodnight is in order, but I must be pretty smokey by now. Do you mind that?” I gulped “No, not at all.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, leaned in and just quickly kissed me on the lips. I tasted her smoke and her lipstick and I touched heaven in that moment. Our eyes met briefly, before she said goodnight to me and disappeared through her door.

I have a vague memory of simply floating into my house, up the stairs and into my room where I laid down in the dark still fully clothed. I was catatonic with excitement. I felt like I should play some music, but I had no idea which of the few CDs I owned I should put on. I felt as if everything was changing. I chose silence, and thought about all the things that had happened that day. I was conscious of the rest of my family returning home a long time before sleep finally claimed me.

// 5 Mango - Lollipop Girl (Dynamic Illusion Remix).

I didn’t wake up on the Saturday until past eleven. I showered quickly and went downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table with an unreasonably big bowl of cereal. Everyone was already there, it was nearly lunchtime after all, and mum thanked me for walking Pippa home. My sister commented how if Pippa wasn’t old enough to be my mother, we would look like a perfect couple; I was seriously embarrassed by this, I looked down into my cereal bowl. Mum berated her for trying to matchmake, which was something she often tried. However, she had to agree. “Actually pippa has said a few times she likes younger men…” she added, almost nervously. For want of anything important to do, I packed a drink and a hoody in my bag and went to the skatepark, by now a welcome reprieve from my family. I was feeling lazy. A spliff got passed round, furtively, at the top of the vert ramp, and I took a pull or two before passing it on. Everyone laughed at me for getting so baked so quickly but really I was just daydreaming. I sat up there for a long, long time, thinking about Pippa; the way she looked at me when I told her I’d never had a girlfriend, how it felt to walk arm in arm with her, the feel and the taste of that simple quick, kiss on her doorstep. That split second of eye contact. I couldn’t stop smiling.

The park closed and we left. Out of our skate crew, as I liked to call it, I was among the youngest, and some of the others had their own cars, vans, even homes. A character called Mike collected us in a Volkswagen transporter and we did the rounds of the local spots, before driving out along the coast road to a secluded viewpoint. We had a barbecue, the sun went down and we all smoked dope until the small hours of the morning. I still had little to say, but everything on my mind. “Cigarettes are very important to me” I blissed out with her voice on repeat in my mind, the way her hands so lightly caressed mine when I gave her a light.

Sunday afternoon came and Pippa did come to see mum, they took over the kitchen cooking a roast dinner together, and we all sat and ate together when it was ready. As we ate, Pippa asked me when i would start my job, which was to be Thursday. I didn’t know what would happen after that, there would be a rota i could check when I got there. “I’d like to get my garden into shape,” she said “would you help me? I’ll pay you of course. You don’t mind me borrowing Matthew do you?” she turned to my parents. Of course they didn’t and we made plans for me to call next door after lunch the next day. I volunteered to wash up. Mum and dad, and in fact my sister and boyfriend all wanted to watch some new drama which would start on TV shortly, and I thought I ought to look willing. Pippa offered to help me, and I quietly bristled with excitement.

I drew a sink and began as Pippa smoked another cigarette at the table. I tried to sneak glances at her a few times, but she seemed to be watching me too. Every time I turned round, she smiled at me and blew smoke out of her nose before I turned away quickly. She finished her cigarette and started to wipe dry the items I’d washed, stood next to me. A few minutes passed before she spoke quietly. “Can you feel it Matthew?” she asked me. I was confused for a moment and I looked at her, a bit puzzled. She reached into the dishwater and touched my hand. “Can you feel it?” she asked again. Her eyes dilated a little, almost appearing to glaze over; I suppose that a notion does not become a cliché without good reason after all. The penny dropped, it dropped from a really long way up. “Yes. Yes I’m really feeling it…” I whispered excitedly. She looked around, moved closer to me and kissed me quickly on my cheek. “I’m feeling it too.” she whispered into my ear, her voice and her message a warm rush coursing down my spine.

“We will talk about this some more tomorrow. You have to know nothing lasts forever though, Matthew. It feels sad to say that but I have to…” it seemed a bit cryptic for her to say that, I wondered why she would add such a point. She seemed so delighted though, I didn’t dwell on it. Dad came into the kitchen, making for the fridge, and it ended our little moment. We finished the washing up in a comfortable silence, in fact it wasn’t just comfortable, it was as if I lay wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket, every single star in the sky smiling at me. I began to understand that this was happening now. There would be no turning back.

We spent the day working on her garden. We cleared weeds, dug out flower beds, mowed the lawn. Mum bought cups of tea, and she and Pippa smoked cigarettes, talking over the garden wall while I worked. Later Pippa asked me to come back in an hour, and would i like to have dinner with her, of course I jumped at the chance. I knocked for her, and she shouted for me to come up from an upstairs window. I walked in and up the stairs, remembering the layout of the house from childhood games of hide and seek. I heard Pippa calling to come in to her room; the big bedroom at the front of the house with the bay window. I gently tapped the bedroom door. “Yes! Matthew come on in for goodness sake” “Are you sure? I don’t want to invade your privacy…” I replied nervously. “It’s ok, I’m dressed, well, mostly…” I walked in to see Pippa sat at a dressing table, a satin gown round her, taking care over her make up. She looked at me in the mirror and smiled. “Well hello you,” she purred “I won’t be long now, I’m nearly ready… Have a seat won’t you.” She applied a coat of a hot pink lipstick, then placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it. She posed briefly, examining herself, dangling her cigarette, before she dragged gently, her fingers making a V around the cigarette, then exhaling at her own reflection. She turned round to me, holding her cigarette angled slightly upwards, close to her face. She fluttered her eyelids at me and giggled. “Do I look okay?”

I think I got the words out. Just about. Truly she looked incredible; tastefully applied makeup, her hair glossy, shiny, carefully styled. Not that she needed such embellishment. She placed her cigarette back between her lips and got up from her chair, her gown slipped off over the back of the chair, seemingly by accident. “Oh!! Don’t mind me!” she quickly said, now stood facing me. A simple black bra and panties against her suntanned skin. I had an erection that took all the blood away from my head. I couldn’t have stood up if I tried, I simply watched open mouthed as Pippa dressed herself. We got in her car and she drove to another town along the coast. Along the way I pointed out where we had spent the previous evening, and I told her about my friends from the skatepark. I had some entertaining, if a little immature stories to tell her about what we got up to.

“There shouldn’t be anybody who will recognise us here…” she told me, after we parked the car and locked it. I had kept the lighter she gave to me, and was ready with it when she took out a cigarette. “Thankyou. Yes it’s too early to share this with the world yet. And your mum, she will have to hear this from me, I can’t have her finding out on the grapevine.” We walked towards the beach and she slipped her hand into mine. She bought cigarettes in a quiet off licence, her voice making me quiver as she spoke to the shopkeeper “Forty Silk Cut 100s please.” We ate fish and chips sat on pebbles and wandered along the beach aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing. She stopped from time to time and kissed me on the cheek. The sun went down. We watched, sat together on a bench above the cliffs as it cast a deep orange light across the coastline. Her head rested on my shoulder. As she drove back, she asked me to light a cigarette for her. I should open my window if i wanted, she said, she wouldn’t open her side, she was a little cold. I was too, and chose not to open the window. She smiled, breaking out into a wide grin, as she looked forward at the winding road. I loved talking to Pippa, but the way I felt at home in silence, with nothing to say, was profound. A tape played in the car; Joni Mitchell’s album 'Night Ride Home’. We listened together in a haze of her smoke.

Pippa parked on her driveway, and cut the engine. A huge tree in the road outside blocked much of the streetlight, and we sat for a moment in the dark. The tip of her cigarette glowed as she dragged slowly, leaning back in the driver’s seat. “So you honestly don’t mind kissing me when I’ve been smoking?” she asked. “Most people hate it, like an ashtray they say…” It didn’t bother me at all, in fact I couldn’t think of many ideas I liked more, but I wasn’t quite ready to explain this to her yet. I shuffled in my seat, moved in and kissed her gently on her lips, and she kissed back, our mouths instinctively moving together. She stopped, our noses touching as she whispered “Actually, Matthew, I think you like it when I smoke. I’ve seen you looking at me before. I really like the way you look at me…” “Oh god really?” I asked, I thought I’d been so careful to hide this. I was mortified, my heart beat like a gunfight. “Don’t be embarrassed Matthew, it’s okay…” her voice so soothing, she placed a hand on my thigh. “Does it… Does it turn you on?” “Yes, yes it does” I gulped. I moved back slightly as she moved her arm, placed her cigarette between her lips. My eyes had adjusted to the dark now and I watched in amazement as she took a long drag, looking into my eyes. She opened her mouth wide and a ball of smoke disappeared down, before she placed her hand on my cheek, and we carried on kissing. She slowly exhaled into my mouth, her kiss and the taste of her the most wonderful sensation. She finished what was left of her cigarette this way, before putting it out in the car’s ashtray, and we kissed for a few minutes more, our lips and tongues so eager. “There’s more where that came from. Much, much more.” she said, playfully, “you can tell me all about this next time.” Now, though, it was time for bed, we parted ways and once again I felt as if I floated into my house and up to my bedroom. I had just had a fantasy made into a reality for me, I was awestruck, and I was so excited, yet I couldn’t masturbate, I didn’t even feel like touching myself. I had felt that way since the Friday, and frankly this was unusual now. I lay in the dark, reliving, savouring every single moment.

“You two were out late last night. Did you have a nice time?” Mum asked me in the morning. I left out some important details but explained where we had been, what we had done. Mum was pleased, she liked that Pippa and I were friends, being houseproud she was also pleased next door’s garden was now tidy. She and dad and my sister, and her boyfriend were going shopping that day, and as I stepped into the shower, they set off in the car. I got dressed and sat around, thinking how I would spend the day, and then there was a knock at the door.

Pippa kissed my cheek “Hello you.” she smiled. I thought she would be at work. She told me that mum had said she could borrow a particular shampoo, would I mind her running up to the bathroom to get it, and I should put the kettle on. The kettle boiled, but Pippa seemed to be taking a bit long to search for this shampoo; I called out “Are you ok up there?” “Matthew I can’t find it, would you help me please?” she called back, so I started up the stairs. I smelled cigarette smoke on the landing, and Pippa’s voice “just in here…” came from my room. I pushed the door open to see her, sat on my bed, smoking, her cigarette packet tucked in between her breasts. She wore only a thin pink negligee and a wicked smile. “Come here” she beckoned. She looked up at me, dragging on her cigarette as I stepped towards her. She began to stroke the now growing bulge in my shorts, and she blew smoke up towards my face. I grinned stupidly. “I’m pretty sure it’s my turn to see you in your underwear. I’ve been waiting long enough now, believe me…” she began to gently pull at the waistline of my shorts. I didn’t need to be asked twice, and despite having very little confidence in my own body, I took off my shirt, then my shorts. “Come and sit down then,” she suggested “we’ve got lots to talk about.”

// 6 Schodt - Angel No. 8.

Pippa had spent the morning, she explained, reading webpages about smoking, and about this fetish for smoking. I wasn’t to be shy about it, but she had seen my browsing history, before I had learned to clean up after myself on the computer. I could have died. Some of the things I had looked at, following trails of links from my searches were quite outrageous, and I was almost ashamed to have looked at them. She reassured me, as if reading my mind. She thought it was quite tame, she explained, she wasnt at all surprised that somebody would associate smoking so closely with sexual attraction. She had me lay on my bed, in just my boxer shorts. Her hip touched mine, as she sat up beside me, her legs crossed. She slid another cigarette from the packet between her breasts. “I love it when you do that Pippa, it’s so hot…” I told her to her delight. Pippa had almost always kept her cigarettes there, especially if she was standing around or walking; she would slide a cigarette from the pack without moving it a lot of the time, and I really did love it. It was such an intimate, erotic gesture. She looked me at as she lit it from the end of her last cigarette, which she gently stubbed out in the ashtray. She must have taken it from mum’s side of her bed. She was over the moon, she loved smoking, and for me to find it attractive in her was icing on the cake. She had liked me for a while, she started explaining “I guess I have a bit of a fetish too Matthew, you see, I like young men, I always have. It’s been a problem at times, I have stories I’ll tell you in time, but that’s my thing. I’ve never known why, maybe it’s because I’m so little, I just don’t know. I suppose it’s similar to how you like to watch women smoking.” I nodded, she dragged long and thoughtfully, before exhaling over me. “You were too young though, when I realised I was going to really like you. So I’ve watched you grow, and I’ve liked you more and more. It certainly helps that you’re an intellectual match for me. We’re going to get along so well!” she sounded excited now. “I’m serious though, I have to handle your mum the right way here. She’s so dear to me, I don’t want to do anything to upset her.” “Yeah, I really don’t know how she will react to what we’ve been doing” I had to say, but at this stage I’m not sure I cared. “It’s time now, I can’t help myself any longer. I have to have you.” she exhaled before she began to kiss me. Hard passionate kisses, her body pressing mine into the bed, pausing only to drag on her cigarette, then kiss me more as smoke slowly flooded out of her.

She sat up straight again, put her cigarette in the ashtray and took out another. “So… May I get your cock out?” she asked, with a gentle giggle. Her hand, with her as yet unlit cigarette between her fingers, hovered above my boxer shorts. “Oh yeah, please…” I took a deep breath. She carefully, slowly, undid my buttons, her fingers probed in and she pulled my cock through the opening, then my balls too, making sure the cotton wasn’t too tight around me. “Ohh that’s so lovely! I have been absolutely itching to see this Matthew, I really have… And I’m the first person to ever touch you, aren’t I?” she looked greedily at my cock, grinning with delight. I had never, ever been so hard, my cock appearing almost inflated, a tiny bead of liquid at the very tip. She raised her cigarette to her mouth, gripping it carefully between her teeth, and looked at me. I picked up the lighter and offered her a flame. As her lips closed and her fingers moved towards her mouth, forming a V around her cigarette, I felt a finger from her other hand slide from the base of my cock to the top, and I gasped with pleasure. “So would you like it, if I blow cigarette smoke in your face?” she asked, she was glowing with excitement now. I could only nod. She continued to slide her finger up and down my cock, while she pursed her lips and exhaled straight at me, looking me in the eye the whole time. She laughed “Oh wow… this is going to be so much fun…” she made an unforgettable show of smoking for me and her fingers wrapped around my cock, slowly moving up and down. I came into the palm of her hand, watching her take a cheek hollowing drag. I moaned and groaned uncontrollably, it was so much stronger than anything I could ever do to myself. My cum made her hand slippery on me which just made me cum even more. Pippa carried on smoking, exhaling in my face, massaging my spent cock and licking the cum from her hand and fingers until she had finished her cigarette, then I budged over and we laid together on my bed, her head on my chest. It felt like we were there for a lifetime, but even that would never have been long enough.

Eventually we came back to life, and Pippa explained she had to work that evening. “This is quite intense… I’m a bit emotional actually Matthew, I hope I’m not coming on too strong…” she told me, slipping her socks back on as I got dressed too. I hadn’t done anything wrong, she assured me, this was quite normal, but she would work tonight and was going to be busy until the weekend, and then we would do something nice together. I did understand, but part of me did want to be glued to her just there. “Don’t worry, it will be worth the wait…” she said, a touch of mischief in her voice. When she had dressed, her shoes and the long overcoat she had worn were back on, she smoked a cigarette and we hugged and kissed one another. She left, wishing me good luck starting my new job.

I went to work. Unexciting, given the circumstances, but still, necessary, and useful. A 20 minute walk up the main road to the warehouse. I would work Wednesday through to Saturday, 7am until 3pm, preparing replenishment stock orders for the company’s stores up and down the country. I just got stuck into it, wandering up and down the aisles, following the printed list of items and their quantities to box up and despatch. I stopped occasionally to talk to other workers, some school leavers like me, mothers with children in school, jaded, aging men who had had enough but weren’t quite ready to retire. All kinds of people. There were always smartly dressed women smoking in little groups outside the foyer of the building, the ladies from the offices. This would become a great comfort to me in time, but they weren’t Pippa. I worked on autopilot those first few shifts, my mind consumed by her. “I really like the way you look at me…” Kissing her in her car, smoke strong on her breath in the faint moonlight. The way her hand had slipped into mine as we walked.

I was relieved to finish work by the weekend. I had been looking forward to seeing Pippa, in fact I was aching for her, and I didn’t hang around to talk as we all clocked out. I made my way home where mum and Pippa sat together in the living room.

Mum knew. Pippa would tell me later how she couldn’t keep it from her. She had thought of nothing else but me all week, and she had realised she was serious about me; it wouldn’t have been honourable to keep a secret like this any longer. Mum had reluctantly accepted us 'being together’, my story would be written with or without her blessing anyway but if she knew what was going on, she wouldn’t have any problems. Her only caveat was that I had to know the truth. I sat down next to Pippa on the sofa, I wanted to kiss her but it didn’t feel right in front of mum yet, sat opposite us, an umpire, almost, to the conversation we would have.

“There are a few things you need to know about me Matthew, I haven’t been completely straight until now…” she began. I listened and learned. She had completed her chemistry degree, and had in fact undertaken teacher training, having success as a science teacher in a secondary school local to her. She had chased and taken on younger men as lovers, rejecting plentiful offers from her colleagues and other men in the community. They grew out of her, every time, she claimed. She became depressed, lonely, and in an effort to accept a partner closer to her own age, had got to know a bus driver who did the school run; like her, Steven had been born in 1964 but had a boyish face and demeanour she decided she could like. They moved in together, lived a while, but he turned out to be feckless, lazy, mean. He had beaten her at times, he had been manipulative and controlling. He lost his job after being caught with amphetamines. The situation was made even worse by the death of Pippa’s mother, who developed a cancer in her liver and lost a short fight against it. Steven lived out of Pippa’s pocket, draining her savings, and he embroiled her in a scheme to defraud a local building company.

One day while visiting the bank to set up accounts, a senior manager began talking to her. He had asked questions that led her to believe their scam would be found out soon. Steven didn’t care. He had managed to keep his name and identity from all parts of the scheme, it would all be on Pippa. The bank manager offered Pippa an appointment, and she clearly felt, as they talked, that he was taking a shine to her. She charmed him, immediately seeing a way out. She took huge risks, going on clandestine dates with this man, allowing him to become completely smitten. She had explained to him, in an expensive hotel room one evening, the details; how they were carrying out the fraud, how she had been coerced into this. The bank manager was besotted with her, and perhaps to repay the favour of her company, her touch, had used his significant influence, higher up in the bank and with his Mason’s lodge, to have the fraud investigation conveniently forgotten, and her boyfriend arrested, and subsequently imprisoned on drugs charges. Pippa was eternally in his debt for rescuing her, and she agreed to marry him. He would never be what she really wanted, but he was for the most part a kind and gentle man, she saw some future with him. In fact she saw in him qualities that reminded her of her own father, himself a financier who, while on business in Belfast had been caught up in sectarian violence and was shot dead in the crossfire. Pippa had been eleven years old. When she took her vows, she had meant it.

They lived well, they took lavish holidays; Ibiza, Gambia, Antigua. The eighties had become the nineties; “Here comes the twenty first century, it’s gonna be much better for a girl like me” Pippa had sung quietly to herself as she drove to the school each morning. Her husband wanted children, he had always been clear about this, and they began to try to conceive. They had no luck, however, and after 2 years, they both began to worry. In a heated row one evening, he had uncharacteristically accused her of not wanting children, she had pleaded that this was not case and he went on to claim their failure to conceive was all her fault. She believed, in fact knew, as she had secretly aborted a pregnancy by Steven, otherwise and had stormed out of the house. In a disproportionate act of retribution, she had met up with one of her O-level pupils, she had been flattered by one of his friends from another school and seduced him. It came to pass that the boy had lied to her, he was not 16, but 15. His parents put in a complaint when the story got out; the boy had of course bragged to all his classmates. It took her husband’s influence once more to stop a prosecution, but she would never teach in schools again, the headmaster had explained to her. The headmaster had been so disappointed, Pippa added sadly. She had delivered such impressive results after so few years of service and he had genuinely believed she would be one the greatest teachers he would ever know. How could she do this?

It was necessary to move away from the sleepy village in the north of the county, relationships in the close-knit community made so sour by the news. Pippa’s husband forgave her, and they began looking to move. They offered for the house next to ours on Elizabeth Road and the day their offer was accepted, they found that Pippa had fallen pregnant. Pippa harboured a deep and inescapable feeling that this was from her tryst with the boy, and not her husband, who had insisted they keep trying. Shortly before the sale completed, she suffered a traumatic miscarriage, collapsing at home one afternoon, her husband arriving home later to find her unconscious, a bloody mess on the hallway floor. Of course no neighbours had checked on her, been round to call, not now. She was lucky to be alive, she had listened to the doctors telling her, but the miscarriage had done too much damage, they had undertaken an emergency hysterectomy while she had been in an induced coma. The matter was settled, in a way, Pippa would never become a mother now. I put my arm around Pippa as she broke down, crying deep, pained sobs, her head in her hands. Mum moved and sat the other side of her, helping to soothe her. We were the only people to have heard this story, mum of course already knew it. Pippa carried on, steeling herself. With no chance of parenthood, and a perpetual struggle with the stigma of what Pippa had done, her husband withdrew from her, she would be looked after, he claimed to have made sure, she could keep the house, but he had to move on. His Mercedes Benz was never seen on the driveway again. Pippa was genuinely broken by his departure, by the mess she admittedly had made for herself, and she explained that possibly the only reason she hadn’t ended her life in those first few weeks on her own was my mum’s hand of friendship and support. Pippa had found a job in the shop up on the hill, and began rebuilding a life. Her husband soon began the divorce proceedings, and having shacked up with a colleague (Pippa’s suspicions had been right,) he wanted his money, and had stopped contributing to the mortgage. Pippa struggled and not knowing what to do, relied on some of the knowledge and details she had remembered from her time with Steven to start committing fraud, this time against businesses in which her husband had invested or was otherwise involved with. She wasn’t being greedy, she said, and her husband would be implicated before her in the unlikely event the scheme was discovered.

By now Pippa was a member of our family and none of us would ever have dreamed of judging her. She could live with us, mum told her, get rid of the house, there would be no need to break the law to stay afloat, but no, she believed she was being watched, and had to keep up appearances. It took a while for Pippa to regain her composure, I held her while her tears cleared. Mum cooked dinner for all of us while Pippa and I talked about less serious matters, I had not seen her since starting at my job, and I already had some entertaining stories. We ate, I washed up, and Pippa helped after she had had a cigarette, an activity which became a custom; I liked having her stood close to me, I could smell smoke on her breath and in her hair. She felt so sad, that evening, she told me. It had taken a lot for her tell me and mum her full story, and I saw that in her. I also saw a palpable relief that she was no longer hiding anything. We took a walk around the nature reserve. She asked me if I would like spend the night with her, just to sleep though, she was sorry. We watched the news on her TV before going to bed where I simply held her, quietly. She wept for a long time before she fell asleep.

I was woken in the morning by the sound of a tray being set down. “Good morning you… Here’s a cup of coffee” Pippa said, smiling, she kissed me. Her mood had brightened, it seemed. She sipped her coffee, lit a cigarette and laid back down, relaxing in the bed. I sat up and began to sip mine. It was the summer solstice and the sun was already shining through the window. I looked down at her just in time to catch her exhale in my face. “Oh! I’m sorry!” she laughed “I didn’t mean to…” “Don’t worry” I smiled. “This is my favourite cigarette of the day, my first one in the morning, with a coffee” she told me. She murmured “Mmmmm…” with pleasure while she took a long drag, then she closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. It was stunningly beautiful. “Give me your hand…” she said. I did, after putting my cup down, and she guided it down between her legs. I helped her slip off her knickers and she showed me how to touch her. I did exactly as she told me, loving that I could give her pleasure like she had given to me. I gently teased her clit, and explored the entrance to her vagina with my fingers, all while she laid back, enjoying her first cigarette of the day, and in fact her second. She wanted me to know she always liked to smoke two, maybe even three cigarettes in bed before she began her day. She began to masturbate me, her hand gripping my cock through my boxer shorts. She began to quiver a little, and her face and her chest flushed a little bit red, before she shook and quietly gasped, her hips pushing against my hand. The sound of her voice telling me I was making her cum set me off and I quickly came too, a huge burst into my underwear. Once she had put out her cigarette she kissed me and we lay silent in an embrace for a long time. I thought about all the things she had told me yesterday, there could be no doubt that there would be a reckoning, that her fraudulent activities would catch up with her, and I understood why not even a week ago, she had made sure to say to me that nothing lasts forever; I understood too that no matter what my intentions were, she probably believed I too would 'grow out of her’. I sincerely hoped this would never be the case, but I was young, I was so young. I picked up my cup of coffee, but it had long gone cold.

Breaking the silence, Pippa asked me what I was thinking, and I explained, as best I could, the understandings I had reached. She was pleased we were on a level together here. It was why she wouldn’t wait any longer. Pippa had to work that afternoon, and I left her there in bed. Mum and I spoke at length about Pippa over lunch, almost a celebration of her. That night we made love for the first time, my first ever time. Slightly unromantically, I felt, she had said we would “just get it over and done with”. We kissed passionately, undressed one another in her bedroom as it slowly grew dark outside. She laid out on her bed and guided me, pulling me into her hungrily with her hands on my hips. I quickly came deep inside of her, so intensely that my legs were like jelly for hours. I apologised, I hoped she would have enjoyed herself too. She was reassuring, respectful, in fact she was overjoyed. She was grateful to me for “giving her my virginity”, we would doing this a lot more, and it would get better and better, she told me. We cuddled together while she smoked a cigarette and then went to sleep. I went to use the toilet in the night, and when I caught my reflection in the mirror, I spent a curiously long time looking at it; I appeared different somehow. I was meeting myself.

// 7 Gui Boratto - Beautiful Life.

We were both free all day the next day. “I, am taking you out for breakfast…” Pippa said enthusiastically, leaning over me in the bed as I slowly woke up. She blew smoke in my face before she kissed me. We ate bacon, eggs, toast outside a little cafe overlooking the beach, she smoked constantly while we drank cups of coffee. We had each other in fits of laughter with our observations of passers by, sometimes caustic and cynical, sometimes full of praise. Naturally I couldn’t help noticing women around us smoking, and Pippa did not miss this. I felt mortified when she caught me looking at a girl at the next table; perhaps in her mid twenties, she had straight blonde hair down to her neck. She looked out over the beach, smoking menthol cigarettes (I noticed her brand of choice on her table) that were white all the way along. She tilted her head back and her red lips still seemed to smile as they closed around her cigarette, and she would slowly exhale through her nose. Pippa placed her hand on mine. “It’s rude to stare, Matthew, don’t you know…” I started, and began to apologise. She spoke quietly “No, no, don’t worry, i kind of expected things like this to happen. Listen. You can look, but you can’t touch..” she dragged on her cigarette, smirked knowingly as she exhaled straight at me, then she put it out in the ashtray. “To be honest, you might see me look at other men sometimes, although I think I’m a little more discreet than you! I think people can’t help it really. But we belong to each other now, and only each other, so it’s only looking.” She looked over at the next table. “She does look very nice though, doesn’t she? Shall we talk to her?” I was embarrassed now, but before I could discourage her, Pippa had politely attracted the girls attention. She turned round, mid-drag, and looked at us. Pippa easily started a quick conversation, she thought the girl’s hair looked amazing; where had she got it done? Her name was Ella, she liked the coffee here, she was on a break from her job as an assistant in an optician’s nearby. She finished her coffee and began to excuse herself when Pippa asked her for a cigarette, claiming to have run out. Ella opened her pack and handed one over, Pippa smiling and thanking her. I thought it strange; Pippa would never run out of cigarettes, but when we were alone again, she posed with the unlit cigarette, holding it near her lips. “Well, Ella was rather sexy, wasn’t she?” I grinned, but before I could say anything stupid she continued “but let’s face it, she isn’t me.” She placed the cigarette between her lips and waited for me to light her up. It made a change to see Pippa with a cigarette that was entirely white. She wore pink lipstick, and had painted her nails a matching shade. As she smoked she told me about how she rarely smoked menthol cigarettes but it was nice to have a variety, she told me more about her favourite brands, what she liked and didn’t like about them. We fell into a silence, sat there, looking into each other’s eyes. The mid morning sun shimmered in her hair, she looked elegant and serene. It was exquisite.

We took a walk around town together, Pippa needed to shop for makeup, bath products and the like. I bought a CD. In an off licence, she bought a bottle of wine and several packets of cigarettes, including a packet of the brand Ella had. She looked at me with a smug smile as the shopkeeper handed them over. It felt quite magical to be seen out and about with her, she kept her pack of cigarettes between her breasts and we held hands and looked in shop windows. We ran into some friends of mine from the skatepark, “Ahhh so this is why you haven’t been out!” I took so many impressions from what Mike said, clearly so pleased for me, yet surprised, envious. Pippa introduced herself to the three of them as my girlfriend and smiled. She held onto my arm. “Listen man,” Mike carried on, “were skating street later, Tom’s got a new video camera, then apparently there’s going to be a party on East Beach, are you two coming?” I hesitated, this sounded great to me, but I doubted Pippa would be interested in this, and I would have acquiesced to anything she wanted. She crushed a cigarette on the ground and spoke for both of us. “Not me but Matthew will be there won’t you?” she looked to me. “I want to catch up with your sister tonight before she goes back, that’s what the wine is for. It’s ladie’s night. So yes you’re definitely going…” Everyone nodded, “Nice…” We agreed a time to meet, and carried on. We cooled off in the sea on the way back; the water was calm and sparkly and we teased each other underneath the surface. We slowly walked back dripping wet. A little later Pippa agreed to drop me off, but her eyes shone a little, “there’s just something to do first” she said and we hurried up to her bedroom. I had hoped to satisfy Pippa a little more this time, but while I was inside her, she stopped me, took a cigarette from her pack on the bedside table and I lit it for her. The way she kissed me and exhaled at me was too much, she wrapped her legs around mine and squeezed them together and I came so hard and so long into her, almost collapsing onto her. She laughed happily, finishing her cigarette; “don’t worry Matthew, you’ll be doing the same for me soon enough…” She dragged, looking me in the eye. She leaned into my ear, I heard a gentle whoosh of her exhaling, and she whispered “I can’t get enough of you”.

After a short, blissful time laying together, we got dressed and got in her car. We spent a few minutes kissing in the car before I left, “Don’t you dare get injured. I have plans for you…” Pippa saidd to me, her hand moving up my thigh. We were seen from the top of the ramps, and I entered the skatepark to cheers, and pats on the back. We raised hell all around town, well, apart from me. The way my legs were after being with Pippa, I had no hope at all of having any kind of serious skate session, so I took camera duty, and caught some impressive footage. Later, at the slightly remote East Beach, a bonfire blazed, a pair of turntables with big speakers had been set up, and about a hundred or so people were gathered, the grassy land above providing shade from the sun, still beating down at 8pm. We had such a fun time, I was careful not to get too drunk or too stoned, I could now join in with a lot more banter and I enjoyed, for the first time, not being the butt of jokes about virginity and being alone.

Pippa had said I would “have girls banging down the door”, and I guess she was right. It seemed with absolutely no desire for attention from any girls, this attracted the opposite and a few girls asked for my number or just sat and spoke with me. I of course had little else but Pippa on my mind; the little smile she had given me, buying cigarettes at the shop counter, making her cum as she lay in bed, how she looked wandering along the beach in a little summer dress with wet hair. “We belong to each other now,” she had said. We told each other stories, made plans to visit distant skateparks and set out our visions of how the world needed to be all night, then as the sky began to brighten a little, the sound coming from the turntables changed. I found the music so intriguing, I had to find out about it, and I spoke to the DJ. He was so pleased I liked the music, and told me about the album, self titled by an artist known as Young American Primitive. “Yeah you’ve got to check out this whole

Extra long cigarette hummmmm

Love