The New Matilde

"Excuse me!" the waitress interrupts as she's suddenly in front of us with her hands full of plates with delicious food.

I take a final deep inhale and crush out the cigarette in the ashtray before helping Thomas clearing some space for the plates. The waitress serves the food and replaces the ashtray with my two butts with a clean one from the next table.

While we eat Thomas talks about his weekend trip to London where he was an external legal adviser to a big company. I listen with interest and eat my burger. When I'm done he still has most of his food on the plate because he's the one talking.

Restlessly I play with the cigarette pack on the table in front of me. There is this prickling sensation inside me and I keep moving it around, putting it on end, on the side and down flat on the table.

"Just smoke," Thomas smiles, chewing.

"Not while you're eating!" I say, lightly embarassed, throwing the pack into my bag.

"Please do! You know it makes me happy to see you smoke."

He picks up the lighter from the table, holding its flame in front of me.

"Okay," I smile as he lights my Marlboro and I enjoy the calm spreading in my body.

"Does it feel good after dinner?" Thomas asks.

"Yes, actually. Can I taste one of your onion rings?"

"Absolutely."

Thomas pushes the bowl of onion rings in my direction.

"Please help yourself. I can't eat all of this anyway."

I eat some of Thomas' onion rings and fries while enjoying my cigarette.

"Do you know that you are a very fast learner, Matilde?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, munching one of his French fries.

"I've never seen anything like this before. On Friday you smoked your first cigarette. And now you inhale as if you'd done it all your life."

"It must be a talent of mine," I smile and suck my cigarette.

"You're a natural born smoker. How did your friends react to your smoking?"

"Well... I guess I haven't really told anyone yet. Apart from my mother and Svend. Well... and Kate and my boss at the school... But they probably think I have been smoking for a long time."

"And then it was Kate who dragged you into it on Friday."

"Yeah... Suddenly there was this flame in front of my face and me holding a cigarette that I had no intention of smoking. And then I smoked it."

"And I'm glad you did," Thomas says, putting down knife and fork and leaning forward for a long French kiss.

"Try to explain what it does to you when I smoke," I say, flipping off my long ash after the kiss.

Thomas grabs the little and ring fingers of my right hand in which I'm holding my cigarette, taking my hand to his crotch where I feel a stone-hard erection through his jeans.

"Wow," I laugh, moving the cigarette to my left hand in order to get a better grip of his genitals.

Thomas moans and we tongue kiss again.

"And if I didn't smoke?" I inquire before taking a deep inhale.

"I'd still be madly in love with you... and I'd be trying to seduce you to smoke. Like I did on Friday."

"So that's at thing you do... seduce women to smoke?"

"Very much so, yes."

Thomas laughs.

"So you... meet a woman and ask her to start smoking? And then she does that?"

"Yes. Basically. But this is the first time it happens so quickly. Normally it takes a few weeks of persuasion. And some of the women never really learn to inhale. They just suck in smoke and blow it out."

"And that isn't sexy?"

"Well... It can be. But nothing compared to what you do."

"Thank you! And how many women did you seduce into smoking?"

Thomas is counting with his fingers.

"Well, approximately," I add with a smile before sucking the last drag out of my Marlboro and leaning forward to crush it out in the ashtray.

"Six... No, wait... seven..."

"Really?"

"Really!"

"And they were all your girlfriends?"

"Well, I dated all of them, and... two of them were my girlfriends. Until they weren't anymore."

"It didn't last?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"They stopped smoking."

"So you're saying that it's only possible to be your girlfriend if you smoke?"

He laughs:

"No. That's just bullshit. One of them found another guy and left me and quit smoking by the way. And the other one... I fell out of love with her, even though she smoked like a chimney when she got started. And still does, as far as I know."

Thomas produces a small, gift-wrapped parcel from his jacket pocket and places it on the table in front of me:

"For me?" I ask, rather stupidly.

"Yes. Unpack it."

I remove the ribbon and the paper. It's a flat metal box of brushed steel with a Marlboro logo on the lid. A cigarette case.

"Thanks! It's cool. Some merchandise thing?"

"No. I had it engraved for you."

"You did?"

"Yes. Have a closer look!"

Thomas points and I study the logo. It doesn't say "Marlboro" in the Marlboro logo, but "Matilde" engraved in Marlboro letters. I smile and kiss Thomas on the mouth.

"How sweet. Thank you!"

"I was playing around with the graphics yesterday on my computer and had it made today at the engraver's. Do you like it?"

"Yes. It's so cool. Very stylish," I say, opening the case.

"You have room for 10 cigarettes and that one," Thomas says, pointing to a thin metal lighter, also engraved with "Matilde" in the Marlboro font.

"It's perfect in the back pocket of a pair of jeans," he explains.

I kiss Thomas again, then light another cigarette and start installing 10 of my Marlboros from the pack in my new elegant and practical cigarette case. Thomas checks his phone.

"It was great that you told your mother everything yesterday," says Thomas.

"Well... It was a bit intense while it happend. But today I'm just so relieved."

"Maybe it would be a good idea to give your friends a hint about The New Matilde? Sort of get it over with?"

"What do you mean?"

"You could put a new profile picture on Facebook."

"A new profile picture?"

"Yes. How about this?"

Thomas shows me his phone with a close-up shot of me at the Trianglen square - the very first he took where he managed to catch my surprised smile just after lighting the cigarette between my lips. I'm looking directly into the lense. Between my fingers with the red nails you see my Marlboro Red pack and my lighter.

"Okay! That is The New Matilde."

"Right. My beautiful Matilde... Are you afraid of putting it on line?"

"Afraid? Why?"

"Okay. I'll send it to you."

There is a "pling" from the phone in my bag. I pick it up and work with putting my new profile picture on line.

"So... It's out there."

I put down my phone on the table. Thomas is still holdning his, working it with his fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to be the first to like it."

I laugh and take a hit from my cigarette.

"What are you writing?"

"Wait and see," he smiles.

When he puts his phone down, I take my own to check. The first like - a heart - is from Thomas. And then he commented: "My Marlboro Girl". Also with a heart.

"My mother is going to love this," I say sarcastically.

"She mights as well get used to it. Aren't you looking forward to reading all the comments?"

"I'll deal with it later," I say, returning the phone to my bag.

"I have one more little thing for you."

Thomas takes out another small package from his pocket.

"That's exciting."

"Just a small thing I found in the duty free store at Heathrow which made me think of you. I really didn't know if you were ready for it, but now I think you are."

Inside the small package there was a white box the size of my Marlboro pack with the text Smokers' Perfume printed on it.

"Perfume? That's sweet of you."

I look into the small box, finding five small bottles. On the back of the box there is a text that I read aloud:

"'Smokers' Perfume is especially made for those who carry the scent of cigarette smoke on their clothes, hair and skin'. But that's a perfect description of me since Saturday," I say before inhaling.

"I had that feeling when I was at the tax free store on Saturday," Thomas laughs.

I read on, exhaling smoke while talking:

"'Smokers' Perfume enhances all the best elements of the smell of smoke...' I'm going to try it right away."

With the cigarette between my lips I open one of the small, delicate spray bottles and apply a little fragrance to my lower left arm. I sniff at it. It's strong and spicy.

"It's so nice. Thank you!"

I hold out my arm. Thomas sniffs at it and kisses it.

I spray the other arm and my neck, while Thomas is watching with enthusiasm. I put down the bottle on the table and we both lean forward to tongue kiss.

We're having another beer and keep talking until Thomas, during my next Marlboro, gets up.

"I'll go in and pay our bill. Then we're moving on. You can get into your heels now."

"Where are we going?"

"Down the street."

I put on my stilettos while Thomas is paying the bill inside. With Thomas' hand in my left and my cigarette in my right hand I walk across the small square with the burger restaurant and the smoker-hostile French bistro and down the brightly lit but quiet shopping street. About a hundred meters down the street Thomas knocks at a window. Another tattoo shop.

A man of 30-35 years in a tight, black T-shirt tattooed arms comes to the door to open it. Thomas hugs him, introducing us as we stand at the door.

"Matilde, meet Casper. Casper, meet Matilde."

I move the cigarette to my left and extend my right hand to Casper.

"Nice to meet you, Casper!"

"You too. Please come inside!"

"I've just got to get rid of this," I say, taking a final hit from my Marlboro and crushing it out against the facade of the building.

We enter as Casper hands me an an astray for my cigarette butt.

"Casper and I went to university together," Thomas explains.

"Yes. A law degree can lead in many directions. I, for one, have my own business here," says Casper, taking out three cans of Carlsberg Pilsner from a small fridge. We raise our cans to each other and drink.

"Obviously we've come because I would like to buy my beautiful girlfriend a nice tattoo," Thomas explains. "What I didn't know was that she went ahead and got one on Saturday."

I put my left foot on a chair, proudly presenting my rose. Casper looks at it closely.

"Yeah. Fine little thing. Where did you get it, Matilde?"

"On the main street of Frederikssund, of all places. I was passing the shop and walked in from the street."

"Really? That must be John. Capable guy. I know him."

"But you see," Thomas continues, "Matilde has become sort of asymmetric now and I think she needs a little something for her other foot. Maybe even something a little more personal than a rose..."

"And what do you think, Matilde?" Casper asks, looking at me.

"I don't know. It depends what my dear boyfriend has in mind," I reply, looking at Thomas and waiting for him to be more specific.

"Is your foot still sore?" Casper asks.

"It's okay. And I will not be able to wear normal shoes for the next couple of days anyway so maybe I might as well have something tattooed on the other foot while I'm at it."

Thomas hands Casper a USB stick, smiling secretively.

"If you'll sit down for a moment, honey, I'll show Casper my design."

The two men go to Casper's computer and enter the USB stick.

"I can do that. You can have it at a favourable price," Casper nods. "I'll just make a stencil from it."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," I point out from my armchair.

"No. Absolutely. But I want you to see the outline on your foot before you decide," Thomas says eagerly while his friend is working the computer."

"Okay."

I get up and sit down on Casper's couch.

"Close your eyes," Thomas commands and I obey, sensing some excitement.

Thomas gently removes my right foot sandal, and I feel Casper's hands with their surgical gloves cleaning my foot. Thomas points to the area on my instep where he wants the tattoo, and Casper applies the stencil, pressing it against my foot before carefully removing it.

"You may look now," Thomas says.

On my foot I see the outline of the same design Thomas had engraved into my cigarette case.

"Dear Matilde. I designed this for you as a personal thing. I hope you will receive it."

Thomas looks at me in expectation. It seems to mean a lot to him.

"Of course it has to be red up here with the letters in black," he explains.

"Of course...," says Casper.

"I don't know...," I begin.

"A few minutes ago you considered my design stylish."

"Yes. On a cigarette case. But that doesn't automatically mean that I want to walk around with a fucking Marlboro ad on my foot for the rest of my life, Thomas!" I say, sharpening my tone a little more than I intended.

"And by the way I think that cigarette ads are forbidden all over the European Union. So it would probably be illegal anyway," I add without being able to suppress a smile.

"It's not a cigarette ad. It doesn't say 'Marlboro'. It says 'Matilde'. It's made for you," he argues.

"Yes. I know. Maybe it's fine..."

"You seem to like those Marlboros a lot," Casper remarks, pointing to the carton sticking out of my bag on the floor.

"Yeah... or rather... that's just Thomas who is crazy enough to buy me a whole carton and stuff it into my bag."

"Crazy? You told me that was the kind you wanted...," Thomas protests with a smile.

"Maybe you want to think about it?" Casper suggests. "You could come back some other day."

Thomas looks at Casper, mildly annoyed.

"I think we should do this now, Matilde," Thomas says. "Remember that Casper is spending his evening helping us with this."

"So this is after hours for your business?" I ask.

"Normally we close at eight," Casper explains.

"Oh. I didn't know. It's so sweet of you to have waited for us, Casper. How long will it take?"

"I can do it in... an hour or 90 minutes. Do you have to be somewhere?"

"No... Not apart from being with Thomas."

Thomas smiles at me.

"And I have to be at work tomorrow. That is... Actually I teach my first class at ten, so I don't have to be there early."

"But that's perfect, Matilde! Just think of how your mother will react to this tattoo! And your boss!" Thomas laughs.

"Yes. That's a nice thought," I admit. "Can I smoke while getting my tattoo, Casper?"

"You can smoke all you want. And I can offer you some whisky to ease the pain.

"Okay. Let's do it!" I laugh.

Sitting on Casper's couch with a cigarette and a glass of Jack Daniel's in one hand and Thomas in the other, I spend the next hour and a half getting the pentagonal, red Marlboro logo tattooed on my right instep with my first name below it. Of course it hurts like shit, but Thomas, cigarettes and whisky do help a lot.

It's almost half past eleven as I get off the couch, newly-lit cigarette in hand, and cautiously tighten the straps of my heels around my two sore feet. We both give Casper a farewell hug and leave his shop for the Monday night quietness of Nordre Frihavnsgade.

"We'll get a taxi," Thomas says, noticing my extremely slow walk on two tattooed feet.

I'm on the pavement, smoking, while Thomas is looking up and down the street for a taxi. Within half a minute a Mercedes has stopped by the curb.

"I've just got to finish this," I tell Thomas, holding up my cigarette while looking around for some kind of waste bin to throw it into. Finding nothing, I take one last, deep drag and crush the half-smoked cigarette against the pavement with my sandal. Thomas pulls me by the hand into the back seat next to him. I manage to exhale out the door before closing it, then turning to Thomas who surprises me by immediately giving me a French kiss, forcing the last bits of smoke from my mouth into his own while we kiss for some seconds.

"That was nice," Thomas smiles after pulling away a few centimeters, obviously still greedily sniffing at my oddly attractive smoker's breath.

The driver has turned toward us:

"Whenever you're ready...," he says with a smile.

Having caught our attention he continues:

"Where to?"

Thomas and I look at each other, smiling. I shrug.

"Is your bedroom a smoking or a non-smoking area?" Thomas asks.

"Funny you should ask. Actually there is a brand new set of rules in place since yesterday. They designate my bedroom as a smoking area."

"Oh. That's lucky. Let's go to your place then."

I tell the driver my address in Jægersborggade, where the Mercedes stops a few minutes later.

Holding each other's hands we walk to the fifth floor. While I'm unlocking the door Casper whispers into my ear:

"I want you get completely naked. Except for your heels."

"Okay?" I smile, opening the door.

"Yeah. Because I want to fuck you totally naked except for those sexy stilettos."

I close the door behind us:

"And I want to fuck you while I'm totally naked except for these sexy stilettos. And I would like you to take off your shoes before getting into my bed."

"Okay. I choose to understand that as an expression of consent."

"You may very well do that."

I kiss Thomas on the mouth.

"After all I'm a lawyer... Could I use your toilet, please?"

"It's right there," I say, pointing, as I proceed to the bedroom where I take off my butterfly dress, my bra and my panties. I sit down on the edge of my unmade bed and fall on my back as my feet in high heels are still resting on the floor.

Thomas enters, naked with a hard-on standing out from his body, holding up my bag.

"You forgot something."

"What?"

"Your cigarettes."

"I don't want to smoke now. Come here, Thomas!"

I stretch out my arms for him.

"I think you do."

"You mean... afterwards."

"Yes. And during!"

"During?"

Thomas goes through the stuff in my bag ans throws the cigarette case on the bed.

"Have one!"

I light a Marlboro with my new, stylish "Matilde" lighter.

"Where's your ashtray?"

"I don't have one, actually. But there's a blue cup in the kitchen sink," I direct him while exhaling a plume of smoke in his direction.

"Oh yes. The cup," Thomas smiles.

He gets the cup and puts it on a chair next to my bed. Then he places two pillows under my head while I'm attentively following his activities with my eyes. He kneels at my feet, spreading my legs with his hands. Then he leans forward to lick me with his soft tongue while I'm inhaling and exhaling smoke until I come. Ahh!

"Oh, Thomas. You're so wonderful."

I sit up to give him a real smoker's kiss. He's beaming.

"Lie down. I'll blow you."

I get up, butting out my cigarette in the cup, while Thomas is lying down. I kneel between his legs and titilate his dickhead with the tip of my tongue.

Thomas grabs my cigarette case and hands it to me.

"Would you please smoke while doing that?"

"Not with my mouth full. This dick is enormous."

He laughs.

"Just light another cigarette and give me a smoking blowjob."

I pick a Marlboro and light it with Thomas as a small, yet enthusiastic, audience. It turns out to be entirely possible for my cigarette and his large, hard dick to take turns in my mouth. It's a blowjob in more than one sense as I blow my hot smoke onto his dick every time I put it into my mouth.

Just before coming Thomas says:

"Sit on top of me and let me come inside you."

I manage to manouevre my high heels onto the bedsheet and end up in a squat position, balancing and avoiding to rub my newly-tattooed insteps against the sheet. I place the cigarette between my lips as I use both hands to carefully take Thomas' dick inside me.

During a wild ride I happen to lose glowing ash onto the sheet where it burns an ugly hole. I beat at it with my hand to make sure the bed isn't on fire, before continuing toward a syncronized orgasm, feeling Thomas ejaculate inside me.