Smokey Romance: Allie's Story

The day I tried my first cigarette, I left for work 15 minutes early to stop by a gas station off my usual route. Even though I had just moved to Virginia from Iowa and hardly knew anybody, I suppose I didn't want to risk running into anybody who might recognize me from work, my apartment or even the grocery store. After all I had always been a good girl who played by the rules, got good grades, and did what her parents told her to.

I parked the car and knew I was acting ridiculous. Anybody would think I was buying crack if they knew how jumpy I felt. Certainly not cigarettes, a mass produced product that brought in billions of dollars every year. Something perfectly legal at the ripe old age of 25. I was being stupid.

I took a deep breath and reassured myself. Besides, just because I was going to buy a pack of cigarettes didn't mean I would have to smoke them. I could always throw them out if I changed my mind. Easy as that.

I walked in and heard the familiar sound of the doorbell ringing to alert the clerk he had a customer. He looked bored and tired, but when he saw me wearing my vintage 1940's skirt and ballet flats along with my long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, he perked up a bit and gave me a half smile.

I smiled back, worried my asking for cigarettes would cause his face to fall in disapproval, then reassured myself that he probably bought and sold hundreds of packs every day. He likely wouldn't care about my purchase. He would forget about me as soon as I left, I reasoned.

I walked to where he was standing and examined the top row of sweets under the counter. I then picked up a pack of gum and set it down so he could ring it up. I almost let that be it, but knew I would be disappointed in myself if I failed my mission. I had already driven several miles out of my way to be there, so I said far more confidently than I felt, "I'll get a pack of light menthols too please." and took a deep breath.

In my typical fashion, I had researched smoking a great deal, and after sifting through all the "don't do it" articles, I determined menthols were the most recommended kind for beginners. I was told they would be smooth and minty and lights would be the best way to try them out. Besides, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be a dedicated smoker, or if I just wanted to see what it was like. I just wanted to try them to see what all the fuss was about. To see if they did help people relax and feel focused. God, I hoped they would with my job.

"No problem." the clerk smiled, then seemed to take forever hunting up what I had asked for. The seconds felt like hours, and finally, he placed a pack in front of me. I tried to act confident, like I bought cigarettes all the time, handed him a 20 and shoved my new pack into my purse. I then turned towards the exit to hightail it out of there.

"Ma'am?" the clerk called right as I started to open the door. I turned, thinking for some reason he would give me some kind of anti-smoking talk. Instead he asked, "Don't you want your change?"

I placed my palm to my forehead and laughed. "Yeah, thanks." I mumbled, and headed back so he could hand me a few bills and coins.

As I drove to work, I couldn't stop thinking about the cigarettes I had in my possession. My heart was racing, and I felt an exhilaration just having them in my purse. It almost seemed like a kind of sexual arousal, and I realized my pussy was pulsing at the thought of trying one. I would finally understand why smokers always looked so calm coming back from lunch and breaks. I was hopeful to look that way myself, as I had a stressful job, and hoped smoking would help alleviate the pent up pressure my job had created. I also wanted to see what attracted people to it back in the 40's and 50's when smoking was glamorous and even romantic.

I had thought about vaping of course, but it seemed like too much of a fad for me. Like it would be more like that fat free, cholesterol free garbage people bought in place of real ice cream. I wanted to experience the real original way people got nicotine into their systems. Plus, there was nothing romantic about a device you have to plug in to smoke. No, I would try the old fashioned way first. If I liked it, maybe I would try vaping, but I had high hopes to look as elegant as Audry Hepburn or Rita Hayworth with a cigarette waving in the air and punctuating my sentences.

I probably would have tried my first cigarette in the park behind the law offices, but it was too close to my start time, and I had been so focused on the taboo of buying cigarettes I had forgotten one key thing: buying a lighter.

I remembered I had seen a lighter in the break room at work, in a drawer. If I was right, I could sneak it out at lunch and have my first cigarette. I was so excited.

I made my way to my desk and answered a few emails. I then made a few calls to stressed out clients. Some who faced hefty jail time if convicted. Then, when I was sure nobody was in the break room, I took the opportunity to go in feeling like a criminal myself to look in one of the drawers. I opened the top one and didn't find anything but a few stray plastic spoons, but underneath it, in the second drawer, there it was. It was a blue bic, probably left after somebody's birthday candles were lit. I discreetly placed it in my pocket, feeling a jolt of sexual excitement and went back to my desk.

Mr. Pendergast, a handsome business-like man (who routinely spent two hours a day at the gym and who I was sure would look down on smokers) came out of his office and gave me some direction for the day. He wanted me to get the sign in sheet and payment records from some daycare to prove a client was a fit parent, sift through another client's phone records, and chase down a few payments along with a mountain of other things he wanted done by the end of the day. I inwardly rolled my eyes and said "yes, I'll be sure to get right on it," and got to work.

By 1:15, I had escorted Mr. Pendergast's client to his office for his meeting and was finally able to get away for lunch. I felt tightly wound as I ate a simple sandwich, and then decided to take a stroll along the trail behind the law office to slip away and smoke my first cigarette.

I was pretty sure by 1:30, most everybody would be back inside the office after lunch. Not many people would be walking or eating lunch by this time, so I felt fairly certain I wouldn't get caught. I found a picnic table off the beaten path, and followed some silly directions I had found online about how to properly smoke.

First I "packed" the cigarettes, tapping them firmly against my leg. Somehow that was supposed to make for a better smoke, but I didn't know how.

I then opened the pack with my hands shaking. "Here it goes," I thought, and pulled out my first ever cigarette. It was long and had a stripe of green where the filter was, and I was glad it didn't have an ugly cork at the bottom. I really liked the look of a white cigarette. I felt it was more classy and vintage.

I put the roll of tobacco to my lips and faked a few puffs. It tasted pretty good. Sort of smooth and minty. I then lit the lighter (which took a few tries since it was old and my hands were shaking), and brought it to the tip of the cigarette. I inhaled a little, just until the tip glowed, and stopped. I held a small amount of smoke in my mouth and exhaled.

Oh my God, I was smoking! I had watched so many people do it over the years, and now I was doing it too. I looked at the cigarette for a long time, watching it burn, then I took another hit. Again I just held the smoke in my mouth and blew it out.

I knew you were supposed to inhale, but I also knew from research that doing it too soon could be off putting, and that I should start by sucking in a large amount of air with the smoke in order to let the experience be enjoyable.

On about the fifth puff, I decided to try to take some of the smoke in my lungs. I took a breath of both cigarette smoke, and air, and then allowed it to go deep in my body. I guess I did it right, because I didn't have the urge to cough, and then blew it out.

Wow. I felt such a rush of euphoria mixed with sexual excitement. I felt slightly buzzed and somehow more alert and ready to face what I needed to deal with for the afternoon. I liked it. It was wonderful. All those anti-smoking ads and campaigns were hiding that smoking was amazing.

After two or three inhales, I put the cigarette out. I had read it wasn't a good idea to smoke too much too soon, and I wanted it to remain an enjoyable experience and allow my body to get used to it. I wasn't going to become a pack a day smoker or anything. I just wanted to have one or two cigarettes a day. Just maybe at lunch and after work. Just to relax. I wouldn't even smoke on my days off. After all, my apartment was a no smoking building. I would only smoke on stressful days like today.

I popped the cinnamon gum I had bought into my mouth and headed back to the office.

When I got back, I saw Mr. Pendergast looking fit in his tailored suit. As I got closer I saw his angry eyes and realized it was after 2:00. "Allie! Where have you been?" he asked. "I need you to go through those phone records and find out what judge has been assigned to the Smith case." he said looking upset. "We should have received word about that already."

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled, truly apologetic. I generally took a 30 minute break, but today was gone for almost an hour. I breezed past Mr. Pendergast and sat down at my desk.

He looked at me and I detected a twinkle in his eye. He had never looked at me like that before. "Have you been smoking?" he asked, his six foot frame towering over me. I thought for sure he knew exactly what I'd been up to.

"Oh, I must have walked past someone smoking on the way back in. I'm sorry." I said, feeling guilty and caught.

His face went back to normal, likely buying it. Most of his clients smoked, being in stressful situations, and did so right out in the open in front of the law office. It was perfectly plausible that I could have walked by and picked up the smell. "Ok, well. I need those phone records asap. I've got court tomorrow morning." he said, then walked back into his office.

When 6:00 rolled around, I had done what Mr. Pendergast asked, and felt exhausted mentally and physically. I had kind of forgotten about smoking, and got directly in my car and went home to my one bedroom apartment where my cat (named Cat, like Holly Golighltly's pet in the movie "Breakfast At Tiffany's") awaited me.

After a quick microwave dinner, I realized the Scott case was really getting to me. Those poor kids wouldn't have a dad or a mom after the trial was over. The husband and wife duo were guilty, I was sure of it, and both of them would be going to jail for a long time unless Mr. Pendergast could work a miracle. I wasn't sure why I cared so much, but I did. His kids had such a great life, and now they would be yanked from what seemed like a loving home with every imaginable comfort to face foster care. That was unless some relative was produced from somewhere to take them in. It was one thing to hear about these cases on the news, but quite another to be an active participant and know all the people involved.

Finally, I remembered my cigarettes. At the thought, my pussy tingled and I grabbed my purse to go outside for a walk.

When I was far enough away from the apartment building, reasonably sure nobody would see me, I reached for my second cigarette ever. I wasn't sure why I was sneaking around. I suppose I had a rep to protect? I have always been told I looked innocent and pure. Something about me must come off as wholesome and healthy. Maybe it's my midwestern, irish roots, or maybe I was just being paranoid, but I was afraid if anybody saw me with a cigarette, they would flip out.

This time I was more confident when I lit up. After all, I had done it before, and knew what to expect. Again, I didn't inhale on the first puff, and instead just held the smoke in my mouth and breathed out. I was careful not to go too quickly too soon. I wanted it to be an enjoyable experience after all, and I didn't want to make myself sick. Then, with a lot of air mixed in with the smoke, I pulled the smoke deep into my lungs, and felt the familiar dizzying feeling that made me feel as though I were lighter than air and could escape all that was wrong. God, this was great.

I took a few more puffs, and noticed the ash was starting to build up in the cigarette. I carefully tapped it with my finger, and watched it fall to the ground. I then took another few puffs, feeling satisfied, and then put it out to walk back to my apartment.

On the way I saw a little old lady who waved, and my pussy started to tingle harder. Did she know I had been naughty? Did she suspect anything? "Hello dear." she said, "nice weather tonight." she said. I told her it was, and exchanged a few pleasantries, before making it back up to my apartment.

Once I reached the third floor, I went directly to the bedroom and got my vibrator from my bedside table. Oh my God. I'd been oscillating between extremely stressed and extremely horny all day, and my pussy was crying out for attention.

I thought of how I had bought cigarettes and how I'd actually smoked a cigarette, and got called out by Mr. Pendergast as I undressed.

I caressed my breasts, and felt how sensitive they were. I then put the plastic wand to my clit and felt the vibrations course through my body, making me moan with pleasure. I relived how naughty I felt getting the lighter from the break room. How I could have been caught, and how worth it stealing that lighter had been when I took the first drag.

I imagined myself smoking during sex. What would it be like to smoke a cigarette while a man went down on me? Oh God. I would lose my mind. I then imagined how it would feel for a man to lick my pussy while I was sucking on a cigarette. I stopped my vibrator, went to my purse and grabbed one. The apartment ban on smoking prohibited me from actually lighting it, but I put one in my mouth, looked in the mirror naked and put the cigarette in my mouth to fake a few puffs. I imagined smoke plumbing out of the end, and determined I did look sexy. Smoking suited me.

When I couldn't stand it anymore, I lay down and started the vibrator again. It was a naughty enough action that very shortly after, I cum so hard I felt as though my body exploded. In fact, I felt numb afterwards, as though every nerve in my body had collected itself and bursted me onto another planet.

As the calm washed over me, I felt more relaxed and at ease than I had in months. I then drifted into a soundless sleep that let me truly forget about everything and feel some pleasure. Smoking was absolutely a good idea.

......................

The next day I woke up at 6 am thoroughly refreshed and ready. I felt terrific. I think the feel good hormones from such a powerful orgasm lingered in my system, and helped make me feel great, along with the cigarette smoke that was intoxicating on its own.

I certainly wasn't craving cigarettes yet, but wanted one anyway. I was convinced they helped me feel better and forget my loneliness and stress.

I got to work early, so I walked up the path behind the law office and lit up. I wasn't worried about running into anybody. I reasoned even the receptionist probably hadn't arrived yet and relaxed on a bench out of sight. I pulled out my cigarettes and lit it up, this time inhaling on the first puff. It tasted even better than I remembered, and I was sure that the buzz from it would carry me through and help me get through the day and deal with angry clients and Mr. Pendergast ordering me around.

I smoked a little more than half of the cigarette, then put it out ready to face the day.

Over the next month, I fell into a routine. I would arrive at work ten to fifteen minutes early and take a walk on the trail behind the offices to smoke a cigarette. I would go into work feeling great, breezing through the doors feeling refreshed from the outdoor air and smoke in my lungs. At lunch, I would then hike up to the picnic tables and smoke another. After that, I would go home and smoke two cigarettes in the evenings while taking a walk. I would then masturbate myself into oblivion before going to bed, thinking about how bad I was now, smoking and enjoying it.

I guess at that point, I wasn't ready to smoke in public and join the other smokers who congregated outside the building at lunch and at break time. I was still that good girl from Iowa, and I just couldn't bring myself to do it out in public, and wondered what my parents would think if they knew I was smoking. It wasn't something I wanted everyone to know about.

One Friday morning, I was on the trail smoking my morning cigarette and hoping it wouldn't rain when I heard rustling in the leaves. I sort of palmed my cigarette so whoever it was wouldn't see.

When a figure came around the corner, I shuddered. "Mr. Pendergast!" I said in shock. I let my cigarette fall to the ground, half smoked. I tried to discreetly put it out with my foot.

"Hi." He said, not surprised to see me at all. "I thought I saw your car. What are you doing here so early?" He asked. His eyes scanned my body, lingering over my breasts and then went down to my foot where I was sure he could see and smell the smoke from the ground out cigarette.

I thought about responding with a cheeky 'What are YOU doing here so early,' but decided against it. He was my boss after all. "I wanted to get in a few steps before work. Just trying to exercise more." I lied.

"You are looking good lately," he said and smiled. I supposed he was right. All the extra walking had helped me shed about five pounds. It wasn't a huge amount, but my mood was much better, and I was finding the more I craved cigarettes, the less I craved sweets.

"Thanks." I mumbled, and inwardly groaned. I just wished he would go away so I could smoke another cigarette in peace before I had to deal with whatever fresh new hell awaited me in the office. Didn't he know I needed calm and a cigarette before I got started?

"You haven't been smoking, have you?" he asked me quietly. Even though his words were chastising, his tone was kind. I cast my eyes downward. I was acting as though he were my father, and I had been caught. "I thought so," he said. "It's ok. I used to smoke myself." he said.

"Oh?" I said looking up at him, surprised. He looked so fit, trim and healthy. Like he would be the most judgemental nonsmoker in the world..

"Yeah. In fact, can I bum one off of you?" he asked with more friendliness than I had witnessed from him before.

"Um, sure." I said awkwardly, and fumbled in my purse for my half pack of cigarettes.

"If I remember right, there is somewhere to sit right over here. He said, guiding the way to a bench hidden in the trees. "Have a seat," he said. He then took the cigarette and old lighter that was on its last legs I had offered to him. I meant to get a new one, but somehow it always slipped my mind when I was at the store.

He took a huge drag, his cheeks hollowing, and I watched pleasure wash over his handsome features. "Oh, that's good." he said. "You go ahead. Light up." He encouraged me.

I shrugged and felt uncomfortable. I had never smoked in front of anybody. Several times in the dim light, somebody might have passed me holding a cigarette on the streets by my apartment, but that was all the public smoking I had done. I had never smoked in front of somebody as important as my boss.

Still, I guessed the jig was up. He knew I had been smoking, and didn't seem to care, so I pulled a cigarette from the pack and put it to my lips. "Allow me" he said chivalrously. Tried twice to light it, before the flame would spring up from the coils, and then held it to the tip of my cigarette.