The Alley of No Return Ch. 09byfursmoke11©
CHAPTER NINE: Strike Dear Mistress and Cure his Heart
Martin Coombes trembled in anticipation of the packet in his pocket. How he managed to walk in the shop, order the Marlboro Lights and pay for them without fainting he didn't know; but now his heart was hurting it was banging so fast.
He had cigarettes. He kept saying it to himself. It thrilled him to know that he was about to become a smoker, just like the drop dead gorgeous women he had seen at the pub in the afternoon; just like the amazing Laura Deadorchid.
He felt for the cigarettes and squeezed them in his pocket, and imagined being at one with the singer; if only he had had the guts he could have kissed her with smoke in his mouth in front of his mother. He was also strangely excited that his mother had a dark side he didn't know about. All this was swilling around in his head when a car cruised alongside.
"Martin" a familiar voice sounded.
"Mum?" what are you doing here?"
"Martin get in the car."
There was no arguing with his mother ever; but she sounded concerned and he was worried for a moment.
His mother pulled over and parked, and Martin got in.
"Where is dad? Martin said anxiously.
"Oh he is fine; we were just parking to go and eat and I told him to go ahead and book a table and I just would look for somewhere to park. Then I saw you."
Martin panicked, he had been oblivious of anyone when he had bought the cigarettes and conscious that he had them in full view of the world when he left the shop. His parents had dropped him at his bedsit an hour before; and he had assumed they had gone home. They must have hung around sightseeing Oxford he supposed.
"Martin" his mother said seriously. "I need to talk to you and don't know what to say really. Except well...I shouldn't take my own issues out on you."
Martin looked confused.
His mother hung her head. Then she reached into the dashboard. She took out a packet of More menthol cigarettes; slid out a long elegant cigarette from its cramped pack with her leather gloved forefingers and lit it. Her eyes closed as she let out a thick exhale against the neon light of the shop opposite; and Martin fidgeted in discomfort.
"Oh my god mum you smoke?" he said, heart pounding.
Her black fur coat was only faux fur, but nice quality; designer. She looked sexy in it, even to him. He had never seen her wear it before, and she looked much more glamorous than normal. His heart pounded as her thick exhale poured down the front of the soft black fur, floating up again to engulf him.
"Mum?" Martin questioned again in confused shock; a tear in his eye at being excited by his own mother. Taking a french inhale, she delicately rolled the exhaled smoke at him, to see if her old tricks still worked.
"We went shopping in that nice arcade near you when we dropped you off," she said, repeating the act. "I said I thought those ladies that your pop star was with today looked really glamorous, and reminded your father of the little mink jacket I used to wear. Stupidly I gave it to a charity shop; at the pub I wished I hadn't.... Does it shock you to know your mum was sexy once like those ladies Martin?"
Martin stared silently as she took another drag.
"Then I lost my rag when that girl came and said that about a smokey kiss....well....well its because your father and I used to do it. Anyway; we saw this fur jacket; and its not real but...but well it's a start. While I was paying for it your dad bought me these, and...well it thrilled me. I would have done anything for a cigarette at the Lamb and Shepherd, and there I was lecturing you."
"It's okay mum , I...."
Mrs Coombes put her gloved finger to his lips.
"I cramped your style with that girl; and that was wrong. Well especially wrong because actually she was very nice, and a big star...and she wanted to kiss my little boy. And I stopped it; and now here I am smoking myself. But I feel liberated Martin. I want to feel like I did when I was eighteen again; and so does your dad".
Martin went to speak again but again his mother silenced him with a ssshhh.
"Martin.......have you ever smoked?"
"No mum" he said truthfully.
Part of her looked disappointed.
"Would you like to try one?"
Martin nearly fainted at the outstretched pack his mother was offering him. He was horrified but excited; the thought that his own mother should be encouraging him into wicked ways surprised but aroused him.
"I don't want you to cough when you kiss her..."
Martin looked at the pack.
"They are girl's cigarettes mum. I will try one of these."
He took out the pack of Marlboro Lights, and opened it as his mother's eyes widened and she smiled. She ran her fingers in the back of his hair as he placed one in his lips and looked at his mother for approval.
" I saw you buy them.....my baby is a man now" she whispered as she held the flame to it.
They sat there, each looking at one another; mother and son, just a few hours before not dreaming of such a thing, smoking. Martin didn't cough, he didn't struggle. He exhaled beautifully. His mother approved. Her eyes narrowed at him as she took another drag herself. Martin mimicked her.
"Well if you don't get anywhere with that girl tonight she is a fool" his mother said, and kissed him on the cheek. For a moment their lips trembled a fraction apart, smoke lingering between them and eyes flooding with evil fantasy into black pools. Martin's hand stroked the sleeve of his mother's coat, he buried his fingers in it as his erection throbbed. He hoped of course his mother didn't realise, but though nothing was said, the smile of satisfaction on his mother's face as she raised an eyebrow and inhaled deeply said it all. Martin's mouth fell open as the More cigarette sizzled in front of his face, and he breathed in her exhale, clutching again at her fur and wanting. It thrilled his mother to know how she was teasing her own son, but she justified it by telling herself she was putting him on the right track; not to spend a life of denial and frustration as she had for the last few years.
Now it was her turn to lustfully and longingly hold her son as he made a seductive drag; her little boy, now a smoker. She leant close to him,
drinking his exhale, and Martin groaned at the sight of his mother's gloved hand holding a cigarette as it rested on his thigh.
"Oh mum" he sighed.
"Sexy isn't it?" she whispered seductively in his ear,"Glad we approve of one another."
Thre was one last kiss, this time a swift peck, but on the lips. Martin closed his eyes in ecstasy as he felt the taboo tingle of his mother's beautiful lips.
She broke it off.
"You are going to melt any girls heart the way you smoke you bad boy...so.... " Martin's mother turned and started the car up; "...come on; I will drop you close to the Black Horse.
Driving away with a wave after dropping him; she half wished she was thirty years younger and not Martin's mother; but enthralled she had produced such sexy offspring. Then she smiled in anticipation of smoky kisses with his father. She was born again.
Martin walked with a kick in his step. "wwow my mum is hot" he said aloud. "no no....she is sooo cool..." he said aloud as he marvelled with pride at the transformation in her.
As he rounded the corner to the pub, he almost collided with the stationary figures of Jane Matthews and Ruth Mears . His sudden presence caused Jane to turn as Ruth was lighting her cigarette.
She recognised him form the pub.
"Hi" she said with a perfect exhale.
He had no trouble or confusion with Jane Matthews and his manhood stood to attention.
"Hi....you were at the Lamb and Shepherd earlier...are you going to see the Deadorchids?" he said without hesitsation.
"mmhhhhmmm " Jane said inhaling deeply..."you?" she said exhaling again, the smoke drifting and toward him.
"Y..y...yes....they are excellent...you know their stuff?"
"A little" said Jane...though she only knew one song.
There was a pause, and Jane and Ruth looked at each other then at Martin.
"I think Laura liked you...." Ruth said "....we are on the guest list so if you like you can join us."
Ruth reached in the pocket of the blue fox and pulled out her pack of Marlboro Lights. "Like one?" she said, though not expecting the boy to accept.
"Love one" said the suddenly much more confident Martin Coombes, and smiled with a glint in his eye as he slid one slowly from the outstretched pack. Both Jane and Ruth smiled as the boy joined them; both exhaling over his bowed head as he breathed in communion.
The three smokers walked along arm in arm; Martin enjoying the sandwich of thousands of pounds worth of soft fur he found himself in, and Jane made no effort to prevent the third fur; the sheared black beaver, she had over her arm from flapping against Martin's thighs.
They walked past two of his college friends whose jaws dropped.
"Must be a sight" he thought to himself. "Me and these awesome babes in fur...and smoking."
"What happened to the PETA chick?" Martin said.
"Oh she will be joining us later I am sure. She threw her beeny hat and PETA badges into the river and Jane lent her a fur 'cos she was cold. The orange glow of the cigarette lit her smile in the dark alley that was the shortcut to the venue.
"Laura we can't do it. It will end up costing us four times what we are getting paid for the gig."said Spud Harper, drummer of the Deadorchids and also Canadian. " I got bills to pay."
"It's like this guys. It's now I make stand and shit or bust. You all smoke too; how can you not be with me on this?" Laura pleaded.
"I'm with you..." Steve Denman, the shy and serious guitarist said nodding "....yep you are right".
Carl Vine was eager to try out his new Hammond organ, which he hoped would bring a new haunting sound to tonight's performance; though generally rhythm guitar was his forte. He could see himself, tall and gaunt, dressed in black and shades with his long fringe , stooped over the organ , guitar round his neck and a cigarette. "Yeah I vote we go with it to."
Spud's eye rolled skyward and he took out his smokes. Camel. He stared at them. "Ah what the hell ....it's not rock n roll if we are going to play by these stupid rules; okay I' m with you".
The Dead4orchids would begin the resistance that night. A resistance stirred by a certain teacher.
It would be all over the newspapers next day; assuring the Dead4orchids place in a hall of rock notoriety.
Laura put her head around the door to see support act "The Bland" commence their set. Aptly named she thought, as they blasted out their three chord lame whiney mod pop to an appreciative local fan base.
She lit a cigarette and went back to the " secret smoking room". They plotted the set and the various points at which things would be done. The management of the Live venue would not be party to it. They wouldn't agree so it was pointless explaining, but they would be as happy as the band at the next day's headlines. Laura again put her head around the door holding her cigarette inside. She glanced over at the bar. NME, Kerrang, and a whole host of other photographers and journalists. At least ten. She knew why they were there, and walked over to Natasha Pashanova the stunning Slovak supermodel who was busy necking with Carl, her boyfriend. Laura smiled as she watched the supermodel hold her cigarette at the back of Carl's head as she ate his face off. She didn't care much for her; but she was stunning and was a good ally to have. Yes the supermodel would dance on a pole for them tonight and it had been in their press release . That was headline stuff; could even make the tabloids....IF they shook things up a little unexpectedly.
The stair door at the other end of the room opened and Jane Matthews Ruth Mears and Martin Coombes walked in.
"Oh wow guys you came! Wow I am so pleased; guys meet my friends".
Introductions were made, drinks dispensed and cigarettes lit, as the support band upped both tempo and volume as they made their play for the attention of the press in the packed venue. Laura had to raise her voice as Jane stooped to hear her.
"Thanks Jane; I hope I do you proud with the coat 'n all, and we have a little surprise I want you guys in on."
She proceeded to speak of that plan, as she snuggled her face into the sheared black beaver that hung like a cloak on her shoulders. The only people not in on the conversation were, predictably, Carl and Natasha, who continued in smoky embraces in the corner. And Martin.
But Laura Deadorchid hadn't forgotten him, and she went to the fridge for another two beers, leaving Jane and Ruth in the drooling attentiveness of Spud and Steve.
Laura smiled lighting a cigarette as she struggled with the beers and the fur on her shoulders, and raised an eyebrow over the little girl flirtatiousness that Ruth was showing toward Steve Denman, "Some lesbian" she said out loud, cigarette bobbing as it dangled from her alazarin crimson stage lips.
"You came for your smoky kiss" Laura Deadorchid teased and offered Martin a beer, cigarette still dangling and eyes narrowed part against the smoke and part to be overtly sexy.
Martin said nothing, took the cigarette from her lips and took a deep drag on it himself.
Then he grabbed Laura fur and all and pulled her toward him. Laura swooned as it was his smoke that filled her mouth. God this kid could kiss she thought.
"Wo ow wo... way to go Laura," Spud her old school classmate said in approval. It usually took a lot to get Laura interested in a guy; let alone a silent one 2 years her junior. She had been through a destructive relationship in Canada with the guitarist from their previous band, and he had stuck by her as a true friend and they had both uprooted for London. He would be pleased to see her get laid.
One and a half hours later and the Deadorchids were halfway through a haunting set. Natasha Pahsanova walked onto the stage to rapturous applause, wearing self supporting stockings, a black silk slip and not much else. Except for the sheared black beaver coat. Draped over her like a cloak of night. .She floated over to Laura Deadorchid, and placed the shiny black dramatic fur around her shoulders, kissed her on the cheek and walked over to the pole, standing with head in reverence at what she knew was coming.
"Now y'all know Natasha Pashanova here gets some shit for modelling furs. Well screw your press.
The fur I am wearing here is Canadian Beaver; it is from Cree territories in Saskatchewan. This is where we get political. This is about aboriginal hunting rights. Its called 'Wardrums'..."
Spud Harper was quarter Cree. He knew what to do.
The drawl of a power company executive calling on Government to stop First Nations protests on badly recorded audio crackled from the deck, as a tribal leader protested his people's defence of beaver habitat by their fur trade and hunting, introduced the song.
The room fell into complete still silence as the wardrums beat and Laura Deadorchid's thudding bass as she danced around the stage echoed them, and her hair shook violently. As Steve Denman's guitar reached a crescendo, Natasha Pashanova dangled upside down on the pole hanging like she was crucified.
Carl Vine walked over to his girl and tore the black slip off her so she hung naked.
He slung his guitar around his back and in red paint that had been positioned by the pole, he wrote "Fuck PETA" on her naked flesh. She pulled herself up when complete and she melted into his arms and reached behind his back, and palmed at his guitar and made as much feedback as she could; adding deafening fever to the already potent mix . Spud Harper was in his element; in a trance like state as he bashed with all his soul at his drumkit and native drums, and Laura screamed the ghostly lyrics down the microphone while waving a coup feather over the crowd and using it to orchestrate participation of the mosh pit to the much clearer infectious chorus,
"Not another Wounded Knee; stands the savage spirit proud
Our ghost dance will be heard this time the wardrums beating loud..."
As the song came to a crashing halt , Laura and Natasha stood heads bowed and motionless.
The venue erupted.
Paul Bremner music journalist applauded for the first time in three years at a band .
He had not really listened to them until that point; and had really taken his eyes off Jane Matthews , Ruth Mears and Sonja Hutchence. Now he had seen smart London girls in furs in the West end, but these three looked really incongruous here, especially the girl in dreadlocks and the fox trimmed shearling jacket that Jane Matthews had leant her to wear to the gig.
He leaned over while still applauding to the women who stood at the bar.
"Now I get it; I couldn't get the fur thing...not that it bothers me; I think you ladies look fabulous, I mean really fabulous. But just kind of out of place among students in Oxford you know....funny now though....nobody is giving you dirty looks any more"
In fact, Jane smiled, they were actually getting nods of approval.
"Yeah well the kid has got a point and we felt like we should come and support her. Are you going to put it in your review?"
Paul raised an eyebrow. "Well I will you know; but its what the editor does; these Animal Rights Corporations have big advertising budgets; as vile an organisation that they are, filling kids heads with all that your mummy kills animals crap. Anyway can I get you girls a drink?"
"shh...said Jane..maybe later...do you smoke?"
Paul looked confused.
"yeah sure but you can't...."
Laura Deadorchid was at the microphone again.
She was playing with a lighter.
"Thanks, thankyou. Okay now for something completely different. Now you all know that holding up the lighter stuff? Well we are gonna do it now if you have them. Around two hundred lighters in the room were held in the air, and Laura was again at the mike after checking her bass. She spoke again
"well those of you who want to join us please do. What are they gonna do" she said, as Natasha Walked over to Laura, with a fresh t shirt that said "FREEDOM" and a pack of Marlboro lights; "arrest us for smoking?"
She placed one in Laura Deadorchid's lips and her own, and Laura lit them. A silent shocked hush was broken with wild cheering as Natasha Pashanova gyrated her hips against Laura's bass and after the neatest french exhale, blew smoke into Laura's mouth; the whole incident captured in backlighting that Steve Denman had rigged up and flicked on. Laura kissed Natasha violently and returned the act. Jane Matthews, Ruth Mears and the now transformed Sonja Hutchence all lit cigarettes too, and the music journalist at their side nodded and smiled, and took one himself from Jane's offered pack.
"Sure sure, s'all good."
Cigarette dangling from her lips, Laura and Steve, accompanied by the keyborads of Carl Vine, started into their only cover.
"This is for Jane " Laura said .
"Shiny shiny...long boots of leather...." she spoke first, and then before entering into the song fully, added down the mike:
"oh and don' worry Jumbo" (the Venue owner, who stood anxiously behind his bar, hands on hips shaking his head "we'll pay the fine."
As Venus in Furs drifted into the soul of an audience who would never forget that night, Martin Coombes spoke in Sonja Hutchence's ear:
"Who'd have anticipated this ten hours ago? You in furs and both of us smoking and I may get to shag Laura Deadorchid."
"Shit happens," Sonja smiled, as relaxed as she ever was; dreadlocks sitting incongruously among thick shiny crystal fox fur and pulling hard on a cigarette. Swaying her hips in tune to the disturbing and hypnotic sound of the Dead4Orchids, Ruth Mears massaged the inside of Sonja's thigh with probing gloved fingers in semi darkness, as she exhaled, head tilted back, eyes closed and smiling, into the now smoke filled room.