“Good night, Dr. Carter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sara waved at her chief assistant as she strode out of the lab. It had been barely a month since she had chosen to step away from clinical practice and more into research and teaching. She was good at research, the ideas, the writing, and the grant submissions. The assistant dean, Dr. Craig Grant, had been very—generous in convincing her to let go of much of her clinical responsibility so that she could concentrate on research.
“Sara!” Well, think of the devil. Dr. Grant hurried to her side. “Done for the day?” She said yes with a laugh, that she liked being able to go home at a normal hour. He chuckled, “You and I both know how much you work at home. Do you have a minute? Mind stopping by my office?”
Sara sighed inwardly. This would delay her designated unwind time, but he was her boss, and number two in charge of the medical school. He wouldn’t stop her unless it was important. “Sure, Craig,” she replied as they headed for one of the banks of elevators leading away from the hustle and bustle of the clinics. They walked into the second-largest suite of offices at the medical school.
“Have a seat, Sara. This shouldn’t take long,” he said, pulling up his own chair. Sara was intrigued; he wasn’t sitting behind his desk, so this clearly wasn’t official. “Tina was going over the guest list for our annual dinner today, and she noticed that you hadn’t sent in your RSVP.”
Sara blushed. “I’m sorry, Craig, it completely slipped my mind. I’ve been a little busy with AIMS and COPEC. They’re due on the next submission cycle. Would you be kind enough to give Tina my regrets—”
“No, I will not,” her immediate superior interrupted. “Dr. Nathanson and his wife will be attending this dinner, as they do every year. Now that you are primarily a researcher—and quite a good one, I might add, you need to attract the attention of the Dean of the medical school. He needs to know who you are.” Before she could protest, Dr. Grant held up his hand. “He’s seen your name, but he doesn’t know who you are. This gives you a chance to meet him outside of work. Contrary to popular belief, he does exist outside these hallowed halls. You don’t have to talk business at all, but it would be good if you talked to him.”
“Well, I don’t exactly have anything to wear,” she sighed. “And I’m not a cigar fan, even though I do smoke.”
“For the former, Tina can help, and consider it a bonus for all the hard work you’ve put in over the last five months and two days. As for the latter, we don’t force anybody, but you don’t know what you could be missing.”
Sara shook her head vigorously and admitted, “It’s just too—masculine for me, Craig. I guess I can make it, and I’ll let Tina take me shopping on Saturday. I’ll be there in two weeks, and on my best behavior.”
“When are you not?” he grinned. “Seriously, you’ll have fun and meet some new people, and the food menu is wonderful. It’s all from Fortissimo this year. Including the special chocolate torte.”
“The Fortissimo torte?!!!?? I’ll definitely be there with bells on,” Sara shot back with a laugh. Chocolate was her weak point, and they both knew it. After they had finished laughing, she asked, “Was that it, Craig?” He nodded and they said their goodbyes for the day. Sara left, headed for the parking lot, home, and her special “unwind time.”
40 minutes later, Sara was sitting on her sofa, legs crossed. The drive home had been longer than usual, and traffic was horrid. She really needed to relax. She picked up her sleek, long black cigarette case and removed one of the elegant, sexy, long white Virginia Slims 120’s contained within. She twisted the cigarette into her 4-inch black holder so that it was secure, brought the extended cylinder to her lips, and clicked the Colibri lighter on. Taking a long, deep draw on the holder, she pulled the smoke into her mouth, and then into her lungs. Sara slowly raised her chin, waited a few seconds, then lazily exhaled through her nostrils, feeling her tension dissipate into the air along with the trail of smoke. Her next draw was equally long, inhaling with a slightly open mouth as the holder traveled away from her mouth in an arc, coming to a stop as she rested her arm on her leg, held almost vertically. Sara eased her chest forward, pushing the smoke through her lips, sending it slowly across her living room in a widening cone. The muscles in her body began to loosen, relaxation infusing her. Again, the holder and its cigarette made a graceful, slow return arc to her lips. She drew, long, slowly and deep. This time, as she removed the holder, Sara watched a small ball of smoke escape before turning her head, and exhaling slowly through her nose and her mouth. Her racing thoughts began to still, the tensions of the drive were all but forgotten, as she took another silent, deep drag, leaning back into the sofa, holder held aloft now, vertically, alongside her cheek. Her next exhale was so... elegant. A slowly blossoming cloud appeared from her lips, one that carried all of her workday stress away, borne on the wafting smoke. She smiled, sultrily, all alone in her living room, french-inhaling now, another triplet of streams issued deliberately, from her nostrils and mouth, chin slightly tilted upwards in a practiced pose of smoky come hither. So sexy, while being so—mysterious. She felt a familiar quiver between her legs. A repeat of the last drag, holder held parallel with the ground at mouth level, the other hand in her lap. Sara’s eyes danced seductively at an imaginary watcher, while she held the smoke as long as she could before letting the remnant escape through the very small opening in her lips, producing a long, narrow stream. Her last exhale was aimed at the ceiling, a long thick cascade directed through the “O” of her lips. She put out the cigarette, removed the butt from the holder and smiled in her solitude. Her relaxation ritual was complete. Now she could get on with the rest of her evening.
Tina Grant and Sara Carter were having lunch at Plaza Chateau. Dr. Grant’s wife had eagerly agreed to take Sara, who was much more comfortable in blue jeans, shopping for something “simple, yet elegant” to wear to the upcoming party. “Let’s make it a ladies’ day out, Sara,” the older woman had said, enjoying the sense of having a daughter to preen over again. She’d insisted on taking Sara to lunch at the expensive restaurant and paying for it despite the doctor’s objections. “Let me show you how society wives spend their husbands’ money,” Tina giggled as they were seated at her usual table.
Now lunch was beginning to draw to a close and Sara was feeling a familiar sense of anticipation. “Tina, before we go shopping, I have an admission to make,” Sara said. She’d carefully considered what she was going to say before now. As hard as it had been having a cigarette after lunch in public around the hospital, at least she’d had some company. But those cigarettes, as relaxing as they were, didn’t quite feel right. She’d realized what it was fairly quickly, but just couldn’t quite bring herself to solve the problem. “You know I’ve taken up smoking, right?”
“Craig had mentioned it with some surprise a while ago. You’re a late starter, aren’t you? What brought that on? It’s unusual for an adult to start without some sort of provocation,” the older woman replied.
Sara thought for a moment. “I don’t know, to be honest. It’s almost exactly like that.” She paused, leaving out her particular provocation for now. “But it’s not like I smoke a lot. I usually only smoke four in a day. One after lunch, one when I get home, one after dinner, and then one before bed. I don’t think it’s the nicotine.”
Tina nodded. “Is that it? I mean, this is a cigar dinner, so I doubt that it would be terribly scandalous, were you to have a cigarette or two during the evening, Sara. Of course, you might like to try a cigar. Emma enjoyed it last year, and that was her first time.”
Sara shook her head violently. “No, Tina. There’s just something about the image of me with a cigar... It’s not right, y’know?” Tina smiled sympathetically as the mousse arrived. “Chocolate... I adore chocolate. Craig must have told you that I’m just going to the dinner for the Fortissimo torte,” she smiled, being careful to scoop a ladylike portion of the mousse with her spoon.
Tina giggled. “I told him about that before he even asked you. I thought that if anything could get you to our soirée, that would do it.” Tina paused to have some of the mousse. “Nonetheless, you seemed to be worried about shopping. What was it you were going to say before we got sidetracked? As I told you, smoking won’t be a faux pas at this party.”
Sara had thought long and hard about this. If there was anyone she could tell, it was Tina Grant. “Well, it’s not just the smoking.” Tina looked at her quizzically. “See,” Sara began, lowering her voice, “I like—the accessories.” Tina was still puzzled. The doctor sighed and removed her gold cigarette case, and understanding quickly replaced the confusion.
“Oh, that’s darling, Sara!” Tina softly exclaimed. “It’s certainly chic and stylish. Much more classy than a cigarette purse.”
Sara said, “Well, that’s not exactly it. See, I have three of these. This one, one that’s black, and one that’s silver. I had the silver one engraved with my initials. And… I have cigarette holders, too.”
Tina began, “That’s all right, Sara, I have two myself. Do you have more than one?”
Sara nodded, and held up six fingers. Tina raised her eyebrows as Sara began to explain, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. See, I enjoy smoking much more when I use a holder, but I’m self-conscious. I mean, almost nobody uses a holder in public any more. And if I’m going to be at the party, I’d like to use my holder but...” She let her voice trail off, and found that her comfort, the white chocolate mousse, was all gone. She sipped some water instead, nervously awaiting Tina’s answer. It didn’t surprise Sara that a lady like Tina had a cigarette holder or two, but that made Sara’s own six seem a little... excessive. She eyed her cigarette case.
“Six? I never would have thought that you would be a collector. My first piece of advice would be to leave five of them at home,” Tina earnestly answered. “Unless you are figuring on changing outfits, one holder will do. It’s a fashion accessory, Sara, and as such, needs to be coordinated. I take it you will be using a case, too.” Sara breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Since we’ve only got one shot at getting this right,” Tina continued, “we need to decide which accessories you are going to use before we get your outfit.” She paused. “Did you happen to bring any of your holders with you?”
Sara shook her head; she hadn’t considered the holder as a fashion accessory, but now she was beginning to see how it would enhance her beauty and add an air of elegance to her bearing at the party.
“First thing, dear, what kind of holders do you have?” Tina resumed. “I have one meerschaum holder, and an old ivory holder that’s been in my family for many years.” Sara said she didn’t have anything made out of any exotic material. “Colors?”
All of Sara’s holders had black stems except for the one red stemmed filter holder with the silver tip. She had originally bought it because it had an extra filter in it, but found that she didn’t really like the way it looked. More accurately, she didn’t like the way she looked with it. “Black and various colors,” she finally replied. “The bottom part of all of them is black. I have one that’s all black.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “That was my first one, and I think it’s my favorite.”
“Then bring that one to the party, and use this case, or the black one,” Tina said. “Black is always fashionable, and black and gold is a nice combination as well.” Tina opened her purse and issued a light, “Oh, damn,” in a very demure, (and ladylike, in a British upper-class manner) voice. “May I have one of your cigarettes, please? I think I would like one before we go shopping, and I’m completely out. I’ll need to stop at the tobacco store before we leave.” Sara grinned and opened the case. Tina took one of the Virginia Slims 120s, giving Sara the confidence to also have one. The waiter lit their cigarettes and quickly reappeared with an ashtray. Tina studied her cigarette. “It’s certainly long, isn’t it?”
“Yes, they are. I like the way they feel in my fingers, and they seem... well, ladylike and elegant,” Sara answered, exhaling slowly through her nostrils, unconsciously echoing Tina. And she relaxed... relaxing more, becoming more at ease with the situation.
“You certainly don’t smoke like a newcomer,” Tina noted. “One would think that you’ve been smoking for years.” Sara laughed, and exhaled slowly through her lips. “At least you’ve got some style in your bearing when you smoke.” Sara looked at her with curiosity, and asked what she meant. “Where I grew up, there was a certain way for ladies to smoke, and we learned it. You look as if you went to the same school,” Tina finished with a chuckle. After the women had finished smoking, Tina paid for lunch and gaily said, “Now, on to the main event.” As they left the restaurant, Tina idly asked, “By the way Sara, what do you think of evening gloves?”
Kendall sat across his desk from his butler, who had just lit an Eve 120 as they talked about tonight’s dinner at the Grant’s. Both of them were looking forward to sampling this year’s cigar menu. Under the pretense of giving her something to wear at the party, Kendall said, “Petra, this pendant is a present for you.” He removed an oval-shaped diamond pendant from its box. “Do you like the way it looks?” His voice deepened slightly as his butler’s gaze immediately fixed on the pendant, barely swinging side-to-side. He noted that her eyes were beginning to echo the pendant’s movement. “Yes, Petra, the pretty diamond pendant is calling you. Follow it, Petra. Follow it completely with your eyes. You cannot move anything but your eyes now. It is telling you to follow it with your eyes. Follow as it rises—” Petra’s eyes rolled skyward. “—And falls. It rises again... And falls again.” Her eyes had almost closed when he’d lowered the pendant. “And ri-i-ses...” Her eyes were rolled almost completely up in her head. “On the count of three, you will go into a deep, deep sleep. One.” He bobbed the pendant down to her eye level, quickly raising it, but not quite as high. “Two.” The pendant dipped to chest level, and just as fast, Kendall brought it to her eye level. He dropped his arm behind the desk, simultaneously announcing, “Three,” with authority. Petra’s chin landed on her chest, eyes closed, deeply hypnotized. “Petra, you have been hypnotized by master. You have been deeply hypnotized by master. You will now complete your hypnotic journey for master. Begin.”
Petra recited another of her self-deepening scripts, eyes closed, neck still slack. “I haf been hyp-no-tized. I luff being hypnotized... by master... I am deeply hypnotized... I must go deeper for master... deeper... und deeper... to... I must... go to... zleep... deeper into zleep... zleep... zleep... until I am ready... ready to be commanded... Commanded... Ja... Ja mein Meister. Ich muß gehorchen... I... vill... serve... my master... I vill... obey... I am ready... to serve...” Her head raised, robotically and her eyes opened, seeing nothing, her will and mind held captive by Kendall’s expertly-crafted spell. She awaited his command. That was—exciting.
His original intent had been to turn her into Gretchen for the Grant’s cigar dinner. Gretchen would announce each course before it was served, giving some background to all the guests, and then providing detail privately for those who expressed an interest in a particular item. Therefore, it was a total shock when Petra suddenly blinked, crossed her legs, and took a drag from her Eve 120. She tossed her head, looked at the window and exhaled slowly with a purred, “We do have time before the party.” What the hell was Peggy doing here???!!! She licked her lips and took another long draw, and made a highly visible snap-inhale before very carefully sculpting her oral exhale. Petra spread her legs. “Please, Kendall? It’s been soooo long. And you know what smoking does for me,” she pouted. Kendall involuntarily leaned forward to watch Petra/Peggy take a finger and run it along the middle of her white panties. He was already excited by the hypnosis, half-hard, and now, he was well on his way to being fully hard. She was armed with the knowledge of what got Kendall going. “And I know what smoking does for you,” she added. His rational thoughts were stilled by the image of Peggy’s posed, silent, chin raised oral exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was deeply concerned about Peggy’s sudden appearance, and the fact that this hypnosis session had somehow gone wrong. His cock pressed painfully against his pants, and Petra, having finished her Eve, was now masturbating over her panties. “Do you want me to smoke—“ She moaned softly. “—Another cigarette, or can I fuck you now?”
Kendall forgot about the Grant’s cigar dinner, Gretchen, Petra’s spontaneous transformation and anything else that wasn’t related to having sex with his butler. He was kneeling in front of her in an instant, as they both frantically undid her panties. She dove onto him with a soft cry of unrestrained lust, going for his pants. Kendall rolled her over, buried his face between her legs, and was rewarded with a very loud moan as Petra’s body shook. Kendall used his tongue, lips and hands in and around his butler’s pussy and clit while she struggled to get his pants off. It wasn’t easy, because Kendall knew what made her come and was working at it with mad devotion. “Ohhh… Kendall… ohhh… ohhhh—OHHHH!!!!” Petra jerked, screaming loudly, proclaiming the wonders of Kendall’s skill to the empty mansion.
As she thrashed about in her rapture, Kendall gathered enough wits to remember how to take his pants and underwear off. When Petra’s orgasm faded, he positioned himself and drove into her. Reflexively, her arms and legs wrapped around him, and she answered his frenzied thrusts with moans, yelps, and gasping his name in his ear, urging him on to his own climax. They moved together, sweating, panting, calling each other’s name until his body could take no more. “Ohhh… goddd… Pee-e-e-e-e-traa-a-a-a-a!!!!!” And she clamped onto him, taking her extreme joy in her lover’s climax, his release filling her, sending her into another orgasm. Kendall collapsed in her embrace while she continued having aftershocks. Finally, they separated, still panting. It was several minutes before either of them cared to move.
Petra/Peggy was the first to move; she headed for Kendall’s collection of cigarette holders, which spurred him to action. He quickly got up and squeezed her left shoulder and whispered, “Peggy, go deep and obey.” She froze, and while her eyes remained open, they were dull and unseeing. Kendall took a deep breath, feeling his mental faculties return. He needed to find out what was going on with Petra. The clock struck six before he could go to work. They had to get ready to go to the Grant’s. The probe into Petra’s psyche would unfortunately, have to wait. “You will return to the carriage house as Peggy, but you will not smoke. There, you will take a shower, washing carefully and completely because you are going out for the evening. When you step out of the shower, you will become Gretchen. Only Gretchen will be going out this evening. Do you understand?”
“Yes… master… Gretchen will go out this evening. I vill become… Gretchen… afff-ter ze shower.” Sometimes it was truly difficult for Kendall to maintain his composure when Petra was in trance. The temptation to keep her in her Peggy persona was there, but Kendall was sated, and the Grant’s party was an obligation. He commanded her to follow her instructions, and she headed for the carriage house. Kendall breathed a heavy sigh. He was beginning to have second thoughts about the training program.
“Hello, Tina; Craig,” Kendall said. He and Petra/Gretchen were the first to arrive at the party. Craig immediately took Petra aside, to discuss the courses she had helped to plan, leaving Kendall alone with Tina Grant.
“Well, Kendall, is that darling Miss Brown going to be attending the party?” Tina smiled sweetly. Actually, Caitlin had never crossed Kendall’s mind until now. Before this afternoon’s little interlude, it was going to be Petra/Peggy when they got home. He felt a little shiver of excitement thinking about watching her smoke cigars. Now, he didn’t think it would be a good idea to put Petra under and try to program her. “Kendall Craft, you are daydreaming on my time,” Tina admonished, although she was trying not to laugh.
“Oh, I’m sorry Tina. Caitlin’s… occupied this evening with a prior commitment.” He didn’t know if that was true or not, but he had to say something. “It’s a lovely evening for a party, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Kendall, it is,” Tina sighed. “You’re avoiding my discreet inquiry.”
“Caitlin and I are friends right now, Tina. That’s all,” he replied with a sigh, hoping that Tina would drop the subject.
“Well, you shouldn’t be,” she shot back. “I saw the way she looked at you at the Roaring 20’s party,” she admonished. Perhaps, but how could he tell Tina that it was a hypnotically-induced ardor? Tina noted his silence, smiled, and took his arm. Kendall wasn’t quite ready to approach this issue. “Then let’s go out to the garden and have a drink, Mr. Craft. We old ladies like to be in the company of charming dashing, handsome young men.” She smiled coyly at him. “Were I only thirty years younger…”
“You’d fall in love with a thirty-years-younger Craig Grant all over again, Tina. I wouldn’t stand a chance,” Kendall retorted, and they gaily laughed all the way to the garden.
The dinner party was in full swing. Kendall had noticed the arrival of Dr. Sara Carter, the young woman who had been in phase four of the training program. They had originally met at another of Craig and Tina’s parties. Craig had been recruiting her for research and teaching. She had shyly agreed to take part in the hypnosis demonstration, although with a good deal of trepidation. She was a difficult hypnotic subject; but he had managed to put her under for the usual party tricks. It was that very difficulty which led him to try to enroll her in the program. If his method could seduce a strong-willed doctor, there was very little limit to the program’s potential. As Petra announced the pre-dinner cigars (from a small cigar shop in New Orleans), he also noted that Dr. Carter abstained. He had thought she was a washout, because her phone calls to “the voice of relaxation” had mysteriously stopped a month ago. Her distaste for the proffered cigars seemed to confirm this. It was obvious that she had stopped using the tapes, but Kendall had no idea why. Perhaps a new lover, or maybe she truly did not have time; after all, she was a doctor.
The main course was a masterpiece; Tony had concocted something beefy to stand up to the after-dinner Cuban cigars. Dr. Carter walked out towards the garden as they were being distributed. Kendall walked outside after accepting a light from Gretchen. He froze on the Grant’s porch, his knees turning to jelly, and a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. Blinking in disbelief, he tried to gather the nerve to walk over to the fabulous vision he beheld, but his legs refused to work.
Sara turned towards the house; she had gotten the distinct impression she was being watched. She smiled charmingly. “Kendall, isn’t it? I remember you from another party here. You’re the hypnotist, right?”
Kendall gaped. She was dressed in black, with a nice 4-inch black cigarette holder between her white evening-gloved index and middle fingers. A long, all-white cigarette was burning away in it. He was speechless; she was beyond gorgeous. Sara took a long, smooth, draw from the holder. Holding the smoke, she raised her chin, formed an opening with her lips, then exhaled, slowly, sending a sunset-lit stream into the air. She held the holder almost perpendicular to the ground, her arm extended and cocked at the wrist. “Uhhhh… yes, I am.” Kendall was too enraptured to think of anything terribly witty.
Sara’s first thought was that he was an odd one, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that she… enjoyed. She brought the holder to her lips in a smooth arc, took another steady draw, giving no sign of the inhale she was taking, then waited as she lifted her head. She exhaled, slowly through her nose and mouth, feeling very relaxed, at ease… and elegant. Very elegant. “I know it may seem somewhat pretentious—“, she began.
“Oh!! No!! Not at all, Dr. Carter!” Kendall interjected. He couldn’t believe how naturally elegant, how perfectly she smoked. To think he thought she was a washout earlier this evening! She hadn’t washed out of the program, she had graduated with honors! “I was just… errr… just… ummm… thinking how lovely you look this evening.” What made me say that? That was certainly tactless! Now I’ve scared her!
Sara smiled delicately. “Why, thank you, Mr. Craft. And please call me Sara.” She made a welcoming gesture, her arm beckoning him, holder elegantly extended, mindful of the slight throb underneath her dress. She could be very seductive with her holder, and her long Virginia Slims Luxury lights. And Mr. Craft was ready to be seduced. She asked, “Would you care for a drink, Mr. Craft? I was just going to the garden,” and extended her arm in invitation. He acquiesced, and took her arm most gallantly. Sara had no complaints; this was going exactly where she wanted.
“By all means call me Kendall, Sara,” he eagerly said as they walked towards the bar. He watched her draw and exhale in that… incendiary fashion again. Hypnotizing Petra had been forgotten, his earlier romp with her faded to insignificance. He was walking arm-in-arm with a smoking goddess! They made small talk until Craig came outside to summon Kendall to do some hypnosis for entertainment. “I won’t hypnotize you tonight, Sara. Don’t worry,” he smiled, but Sara preferred to stay in the garden.
Sara watched Kendall cast backward glances at her as he and Craig headed for the house. No, you won’t hypnotize me tonight. But I think I can bewitch you. Sara stood up and lazily circulated among the people in the garden. “Hello, Emma!” she greeted the short-blonde-haired doctor, who was smoking one of the thicker after-dinner cigars Sara had seen. “Ugh! How can you smoke that… thing?” she cheerily asked her friend. “I’d think it’d make me look like… a guy.”
“No, Sara! Think of it as equality of the sexes,” Emma bubbled. “It’s a declaration of power and confidence.” She pulled on her cigar and pushed the smoke into the sky without inhaling. “And these are Cuban. Just the secrecy of it all is exciting.” The two women chatted idly until Craig Grant walked over accompanied by Dr. John Nathanson. He introduced Sara as “one of our fast-rising faculty stars.” After a few minutes, Emma discreetly left with Dr. Grant, as Sara and the dean of the medical school continued their social discussion.
Sara was inside, enjoying dessert, and having a wonderful time talking with Tina Grant, Tony Benefortti, Emma, and the Drs. Nathanson. She hadn’t exactly forgotten about Kendall, but this was chocolate, after all. And a possible chance to gain a hint or two about it from a master chef. Petra arrived a few minutes after dessert had been finished to announce the after-dinner cordials and the corresponding cigar selections. Sara excused herself from the group. She just couldn’t see how cigar smoking was elegant for a lady; there was no way she could be anywhere as seductive as she could with a holder and a Virginia Slim Luxury Light. On her way out, she bumped into Kendall, who was on his way in. “Oh!!! Hi Kendall! I was just headed outside for a cigarette. I’m afraid I’m not much for cigars.” He smiled and asked her if she would like some company, since almost everybody else was on their way inside. “Don’t let me keep you from enjoying a fine cigar,” she smiled in return, “I understand that they are supposed to be quite special—for cigars.” After receiving his assurance that it wouldn’t be a great loss, she accepted his arm and they strolled out to the garden to sit in the gazebo.
“I apologize for missing your show inside,” Sara began as she crossed her legs. “I was speaking with the dean of the medical school. Craig thought—” She reached into her purse and removed her holder, placing it in her lap. “—That it would be good for me, in a professional sense, to meet him.” She pulled out her black case, opened it and removed a long white cigarette. It took a lot of restraint for Kendall to maintain his composure. So regal, so relaxed, so… elegant. The only thing that gave his interest away was the fact that he already had his lighter out. “So, I’m really only here for that—and the Fortissimo torte,” she finished, smiling. Although she was aware that Kendall was waiting to light her cigarette, this was a ritual that shouldn’t be rushed. Sara deliberately twisted her Virginia Slim Luxury Light into the holder, made sure that it was secure, and only then did she lean towards him almost imperceptibly, indicating that she was ready for the light. Kendall had to lean forward much more to get the flame to her. Not coincidentally, it brought his sight to the cleavage of her evening dress. Seductive. “Thank you, Kendall,” she said, relaxing back into the chair after a slightly hurried oral exhale, making sure he could see her smile. Teasing, coy, with a hint of invitation. It had been so long since she’d been intimate with anybody. She’d almost forgotten how much fun the game could be—the outcome was almost secondary. Almost.
Sara leaned back, her holder held nearly perpendicular to the ground, between index and middle fingers at cheek level. He was watching her with rapt attention. The usual tingle started with her next drag. She exhaled deliberately, through her nose and mouth, keeping his interest. “So, what is it that you do, Kendall?” He told her that he was independently wealthy because he had created some very popular computer games in his youth, and spent most of his time managing his investments. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a profile view of her perfectly shaped, formed, and directed oral exhale. “That sounds nice. I’m actually changing careers within careers,” she said, raising the holder to her lips for another elegant, alluring draw. She waited to finish her nasal exhale before explaining, “I’m changing from clinical practice to research and teaching.” Kendall’s interest hadn’t wavered. He was well on his way to being seduced. Sara smiled to herself. This is what smoking so elegantly can do for me.
Dr. Sara Carter smiled in her afterglow, lazily walking towards her bedroom. She’d smoked more cigarettes than usual today. She didn’t care. It had taken four at the party to reel Kendall in completely, and she’d had one (now she knew what was so special about after-sex cigarettes) after their first round, which had led, surprisingly quickly, to their second round. She’d gone downstairs to fetch her black-and-pink holder, along with some more cigarettes. She took the time to fill the case; she didn’t want to change her ritual, or the elegance it portrayed. It might affect her sensual allure, diminishing the potency of her seduction. Besides, it gave Kendall a little more time to recover. She wasn’t finished yet. She entered the room wearing her untied sheer robe (a gag gift from one of her friends at medical school—he’d said that she’d never use it—boy, was he wrong!) She fitted the cigarette into the black and pink holder as Kendall watched, and he mentioned that the holder was different. Oh goody! He noticed! You’ve made him quite the attentive one, haven’t you, Sara? She let him light the cigarette, but didn’t come to bed immediately, savoring a few puffs, fetchingly posed, leaning against her chest of drawers. And he watched her like a hawk. Nothing was said, but the energy was growing. How deeply under her spell was he? Sara sat on the bed, still smoking, but chose to lie back, propped up on her fluffy pillows. “Kendall, darling,” she purred, incredibly seductive, “would you—touch me—down there? His hand slid down her body, over her thigh, to the inner side, and slowly traveled up to her throbbing center. His eyes never left her face. “Why don’t you—mmmm… kiss me there?” Her every wish was his command. Sara had found the best use possible for her smoking accessories. Her vision blurred, she moaned, and put the cigarette and holder aside. They had done their job.