Daisy Marie Powell Woodford. We’ve had a relationship for almost forty years, and it’s still going strong today. Daisy is a year older than I am, and as embarrassing as it is for her to admit that she was drunk at the time, she was the first girl to touch me sexually (a hand job.) She was also the second girl I ever fucked—after working really hard to set me up with my first. Although we’ve never really had a dating relationship, we’ve been fuck buddies off and on over the course of that relationship, even after I married. My friend is still beautiful, with her hair still golden-brown, and her womanly figure only slightly larger than it was when we first met. She has one of those faces that ages slowly and when we’ve been out at a nightclub or restaurant, she still gets men, some of whom are young enough to be her son, to look, and the boldest ones approach, thinking she’s twenty years younger. She can be jeans-and-beer casual or east coast debutante designer-gown-and-champagne elegant with equal ease and comfort, although she definitely prefers the former.
Summer without Daisy was boring, and needless to say, celibate. She wrote me twice a month, and I faithfully wrote back. It sounded like they were keeping her busy at work, but she missed the food. Her first letter complained about British cigarettes—”No Virginia Slims, and they have Mores here, but they taste like shit.” By the time I had to go back to school, fantasy and masturbation had become incredibly unsatisfying—and depressing. I missed Daisy. However, she reported a happy end to her cigarette dilemma—she had managed to convince a co-worker who made frequent trips to the U.S. to supply her with her beloved Virginia Slims.
When I got to school, I headed to the arcade after getting settled in for my senior year, hoping to find Mary Anne. Instead, I met a new monitor, Pam, who was friendly and chatty, with dark eyes and dark hair worn in a shorter version of the Farrah cut. While not slender, her nicely-rounded body was appealing—and then she pulled a cigarette from her purse, making my world spin. It was beige! I lit it for her and one of my own while going through reaction rates in my head. “I used to smoke those,” Pam cheerily admitted, not knowing what she was doing to me as she took a drag, lifted her chin, and slowly, a thick plume of smoke blossomed from her lips. “These are More Lights,” she resumed, producing a beige pack of 100s. “Dunno what I’ll smoke when I run out of these; they don’t have them at the store in the commons yet. Probably go back to Virginia Slim Lights.” I immediately started scheming to get her into my bed, my summer-long celibacy having worn my steely dedication to Daisy into wisps of fabric. I saw her in the commons a lot over the first few days, either in the arcade or at the info desk, and, unbidden, Pam began to visit my dreams.
I didn’t see Mary Anne until the first day of class, in Harrison Lounge. She asked me for a cigarette, and took a long, glamorous drag, exhaling luxuriously, all the while watching me out of the corner of her eye. Pam who? My plans for a weekend of hot, juicy, smoky sex evaporated when she apologized for the tease and told me that she was going away for the coming weekend. “But definitely the weekend after that, Will,” she purred, the light in her eyes telling me that there would only be a delay in my plans.
Wendy, the gorgeous blonde now-sophomore, booked me for an hour of French lessons. She had switched to Virginia Slim Light Menthols, and her drags were even deeper, her exhales more voluminous. My schedule otherwise filled quickly with football players forced into Calculus. They paid a lot better than the sexy smoking girls, because the school was footing the bill. Even though I had my regrets, it was probably for the best. There were far too many hot smoking girls in Harrison, I needed relief, and the promise of it was two weeks away.
However, much to my surprise, Colin came prancing into Harrison Lounge on Thursday, interrupting my contemplation of three beautiful blondes sharing a pack of Marlboro Light 100s across the aisle. I asked him what he was doing back here after graduating.
“I’m saying my farewells before I go on the high seas. I got a job on a cruise line, so I’ll be sailing around the world for the next year!” he enthused. “There’s a party Saturday night, and you’re invited!”
Great, I’m insanely horny, and now I’m going to a party where I’m guaranteed not to get laid, I snidely thought. Nonetheless, I accepted because I had struck up several friendships among the Arts students, and it would be good to see them again.
Once at the party, my merrymaking was cut short when Elaine walked in with Kelly. I hadn’t seen Elaine since the cast party for the musical; she no longer even stopped in Harrison, let alone at my table. Upon seeing me, she once again looked slightly ill, as she had the first time I’d seen her with Kelly. Her girlfriend also saw me and waved happily, seemingly ignorant of Elaine’s state. I waved back, but attached myself to a nearby conversation, so I could ignore them.
A few moments later, Kelly dragged an embarrassed, reluctant Elaine to my group, and gave me a hug. I compounded Elaine’s distress by admiring her appearance, once again looking beautiful and feminine in a cute pink dress. “Let’s go outside and have a smoke,” suggested Kelly. Elaine hesitated, then lowered her head and meekly followed Kelly’s lead.
Kelly lit both my More and Elaine’s Eve 120 menthol with a bit of a gallant flourish before lighting her own Tiparillo. “So how have you been?” she asked after her first drag, spouting cigar smoke. I only replied after a thick residual stream of finished leaving her nose, lying that I was OK, and immediately distracted by Elaine’s amazingly feminine drag and lazy, yet carefully formed, exhale. She caught me looking, glanced down, turned bright red, and turned away from me looking very uncomfortable. I stammered an excuse, and went to put my cigarette out so I could flee the increasingly awkward situation, but Kelly stuck her hand in the way. “What’s the hurry? You forget something? Does it bother you to hang out with Elaine and her girlfriend?”
Cornered, I chose the most direct of my options, “No,” I sighed, “that’s not it.” I turned to Elaine. “You just look so—uncomfortable around me when you’re with Kelly that I feel bad.” I left out our sexual liaison; after all, that was the probably the source of her discomfort. “I miss you as a friend, but if this makes it easier for you, then I do understand.” Turning back to Kelly, I finished apologizing for killing the mood. She took a quick puff from the Tiparillo, ending in a brief french-inhale before exhaling casually to the side. Oh jeez, I wish she wouldn’t do that… Kelly gave me a sardonic little smile, and let me go back inside by myself.
I regained some of my earlier merriment by hanging around the piano marveling at the talent of Colin and others, trying to forget my lost friendship. I had lost track of time, and even though the songs became increasingly bawdy, they were funny as hell, and I forgot about my horniness even when I saw Kelly again. She stopped at the piano, and I told her I was sorry for ruining another night. Kelly leaned to me and whispered, “Oh, it’s not ruined,” and then invited me out for a smoke before they left, grabbing my arm to drag me back to the smoking area where Elaine was standing. “Hi, Kitten,” she purred, removing another cigar. I could see Elaine pale even in the dim lighting. Kelly lit it, took a huge drag, and kissed Elaine, exhaling into her mouth. It was hot as they both exhaled, leaving Elaine slightly flushed. “Now, give your friend a goodnight kiss so he knows there aren’t any hard feelings.”
My lesbian girlfriend turned bright red and shyly stepped in front of me. I began, “You don’t have to do this—”
“—Yes she does—besides, she’s done it before,” interrupted Kelly authoritatively. Neither Elaine nor I could have blushed any harder at that. I protested, knowing that Elaine wasn’t bisexual, but the swimmer just snapped, “Kiss him now, Kitten.” Elaine’s kiss shocked me with its passion, its heat, so unlike the sweetly teasing kiss we had shared a year ago. “I’m bisexual,” Kelly softly declared as she leaned to my ear. “My little kitten here has been creaming her panties all night because you know her as Elaine, not my little kitten. I couldn’t figure out if keeping the secret was what got her all hot n’bothered, or if revealing it to you was it. Her submissive streak is funny that way.” She looked at Elaine. “But I really like her when she’s this hot… Wanna come n’play with me n’my little Kitty?” Kelly placed my hand on Elaine’s breast, feeling her nipple, already rock-hard, and Elaine groaned with heat. “You’re a big part of it,” Kelly smiled, “so I’m inviting you to share in the reward.” She puffed on her cigar.
I wasn’t sure what was going on; I’d never heard of submission in a sexual context, but damn I was hard! I quickly agreed, and left the party with them after saying a quick farewell to Colin, kissing him on one cheek. He dramatically sighed, “I’ll never wash my face again.”
Kelly virtually attacked me in the back seat, aggressively inspiring a passionate make-out session while Elaine drove. As soon as we arrived at Kelly’s extremely nice apartment, Elaine took our coats. When she returned, I couldn’t help but gape at my beautiful friend, wearing makeup, a dress, and heels, looking every bit the feminine ingénue, with a surprising air of fragile innocence about her as she blushed, still mute, at my scrutiny. She was so—beautiful, that I began to get hard from just looking at her. “I like her as a girly-girl, too,” whispered Kelly, noticing my obvious fascination as she sidled next to me, adding, “But I like you just fine as you are.”
Elaine undressed Kelly with some enthusiastic kissing and fondling, and then was ordered to do the same for me. Kelly sensed my reluctance, and placed my hand squarely on Elaine’s exposed, wet pussy. “Saturdays are no-underwear nights for Kitty,” she smirked. At that, Elaine moaned, grabbed my head, and kissed me hungrily. Gently, but decisively, Kelly separated us with fire in her eyes after a few moments of kissing that had me rigid. “Now it’s time to play,” she growled. “Watch us, my little Kitten—and don’t play with yourself. I have plans for you.”
Underneath me, Kelly showed no sign of the commanding dominant who dictated the very being of another woman. As well-muscled and athletic as she was, Kelly was softer and much less physical than Amber, but no less responsive, and she encouraged me to be less gentle. She was tight, slick without being sloppy, and I couldn’t hold out very long. Regretfully, I stopped moving, and warned her that I was close. With clear, intense brown eyes, she told me, “It’s OK. I want you to,” and Kelly cried out in rapture as I came, lifting me off the bed as she arched her back.
“Kitten, bring me the cigar box,” called Kelly after our breathing had returned to normal. “They’re menthol—Dino Gold Label,” she explained, offering me a long, slim, tapered cigar. “I like them much better than Tiparillos and Tijuana Smalls, but… I can’t get away with these outside the apartment.” I asked what about Elaine, very much wanting to see her smoke one of the long cigars, but Kelly shook her head. “Kitten?”
“Pretty girls only smoke pretty cigarettes,” was Elaine’s demure, soft reply, delivered with downcast eyes as she blushed furiously.
When Kelly turned back to me to offer me a light, our eyes met, and suddenly, we recognized each other as kindred spirits. She smiled, blushing as was I, and lit her cigar with a prolonged snap-inhale. “Kitten,” husked Kelly, without taking her smoldering eyes off me, “C’mere.” She drew on the cigar, impossibly long, and then pulled Elaine to her, breaking eye contact only when her eyes closed for the kiss that followed her cigar exhale into Elaine’s receptive mouth. Both women exhaled leisurely, turning their heads in opposite directions, with me getting a few wafts from Elaine, who looked rapturous.
They kissed like this four more times, and my body began to prepare itself anew. Kelly took one more drag, playfully tapping Elaine on the lips, and turned to me. Her eyes went dewy, she opened her mouth, and we kissed, her taste spiced by the cigar smoke she exhaled into my mouth. “Kitten… come and suck his cock,” cajoled Kelly, authoritatively, yet softly, adding, “Now.”
Elaine was so hot at this point that her sexual preference no longer mattered; only doing whatever Kelly asked would sate her desires. She started to bring me to full hardness with surprising proficiency. “She’s had practice… but you’re her first real one. The others were rubber,” Kelly explained, smiling, taking another drag from the cigar. She exhaled twice from her deep drag. “But I have a question for you… Can I fuck you—with one of my toys? It’s always been a dream of mine to fuck a guy… like a guy” she softly husked in my ear, the scent of cigar hanging heavily on her as the excitement of the thought clearly showed on her face and body. “I’ll be… gentle. I promise,” she cooed. Then Kelly raised the stakes. “I’ll let you fuck Kitten at the same time.” Elaine gasped around my cock and stopped fellating me, sitting up abruptly, having gone white. “Kitten,” came Kelly’s soft, yet stern voice, “you have no say in the matter.” My dick hardened even more at the sight of Elaine’s flared nostrils… and the beginnings of sexual flush. She couldn’t fuck me and retain her sexual identity… but obeying Kelly gave her the perfect avenue to realize her own forbidden fantasy. I warned both of them what was going to happen based on my previous experience with prostate massage. “Then you definitely need to fuck her,” declared Kelly. She looked at her cigar, still very long, and panted, “It’ll take me too long to finish my smoke, and you’re ready now. Let me go get ready.” She fixed Elaine with a look and snapped, “Kitten! Spread your legs.”
Elaine looked ill at the command, but Kelly turned to her and snapped, “Don’t give me that look, Kitten. Remember, I know he’s the only guy you’ve ever wanted inside you again.” She gave me a wry smile. “And now he knows it, too. Fuck him, pretty kitty. You know you want it.” She pulled Elaine to her feet and kissed her hungrily. “And I wanna watch my pretty little girly-girl get fucked lying right next to me in our bed.”
I don’t know what erased her reluctance, but Elaine launched herself at me, and we kissed with a desire that I thought she only reserved for other women, whimpering into my mouth, trying to merge her perfect body with my flawed one. She broke the kiss and lay on her back, as I forgot all about my part of the bargain, as Kelly vanished. I entered Elaine quickly, and with ease, sliding all the way in with a slurp, indicating her excitement. It didn’t matter where her excitement came from; she was warm, wet, and willing, undulating in ecstasy beneath me. I settled into an easy, gentle rhythm, mindful of not “treating her like a nail,” and was rewarded, first with a full-body flush, and then with a wailing, churning orgasm. Kelly padded into the room, showing me her dildo, still smoking her cigar, and leaned forward over Elaine’s face to whisper something. In response, Elaine began moving even more. I watched the swimmer take a casual, steady draw, only to exhale slowly over her girlfriend’s body, ignorant of my existence, leaning forward and gently, but deeply, kissing Elaine. She whispered some more; Elaine’s flush returned. Kelly began to speak to her lover while I smoothly, steadily, gave her all of my cock, harder now than any time during the night. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but Elaine began to hump wildly, eyes open, and unable to focus. I felt her juices coat my cock while Kelly continued her soft commentary to Elaine, driving her orbital. It was like fucking one long orgasm. Finally, Kelly looked up, smiled, and throatily cooed, “Are you ready?”
Suddenly, Elaine grabbed me and wailed, and I once again forgot about Kelly—until she lubricated my ass. Slowly, the swimmer began to work the dildo into me. I could hear her soft, excited panting, and my asshole parted at her gentle persistence. She began to thrust at me, moaning loudly, and I began to feel… more physically excited than ever, with Elaine beneath me, cumming in waves with loud cries. “Will,” gasped my lesbian girlfriend, eyes sparkling, “fuck me!” I redoubled my efforts, and the three of us were one long chain of fucking, with my dick going all the way in and all the way out with each stroke, and Kelly thrusting at me with quiet, excited whimpers. Despite the glorious physical sensations emanating from my penis and amplified by Kelly’s prostate stimulation, my orgasm stayed out of reach for a seeming eternity, until I could take it no longer. My cock exploded into Elaine; I was aware long enough to recognize the expression of shock and sheer joy on her face—a long-denied dream was coming true for both of us. She began to wail, arching her back—and I simply ceased to exist. When I came to, Kelly was greedily kissing Elaine, and moving on top of her. I was briefly able to see that she had changed dildos, this one longer and thicker, before it vanished inside of Elaine. Kelly was a lot less gentle than I had been, but Elaine screamed in ecstasy, and I knew that what had just happened between her and I had been very special. Elaine’s body finally gave out, as she came with a long, long, high-pitched cry and collapsed with a huff onto the bed, slack, arms and legs splayed. She lay, chest heaving, eyes closed, naked, and awesomely beautiful. Kelly gently withdrew, and glanced at me, looking down. My cock was still covered in Elaine’s drying pussy juices, and she gave me a sultry smile. “Wanna share a cigar with me?”
An hour later, Kelly broke my fascinated contemplation of her now-sleeping girlfriend with a wet kiss, heavily tasting of cigar smoke. “You’re hard again,” she throatily observed, before lying on her side and starting to clean my cock with her mouth, pausing for a final puff on her cigar, the exhale from which temporarily obscured my view of her face buried in my groin, but I felt it just fine. After disposing of the last inch and a half of our cigar and shooting a glance at Elaine’s still body, Kelly turned to me and coquettishly asked, “Again?” already knowing the answer as she reclined onto the bed.
Elaine woke me the next morning with breakfast in bed, explaining that Kelly was out on her morning run. Once again, I silently noted how much Elaine had changed, from her distinctly effeminate dress to her shy bearing, and when she asked me if there was anything else, I raised the subject that had been on my mind since I first saw them together. “Kelly likes me like this,” she responded after a while. “And I like doing it—for her.” There was silence in the room. “I was afraid you—wouldn’t understand, and that you’d—try to change me back,” she finally revealed, answering the unspoken question. “And it got too—awkward—to try and patch up the longer it went. Then I saw you at Colin’s, and I didn’t know how to handle it. Guys who are fine with the concept of me being a lesbian often weird out when it hits them in real life. Then they spend their time trying to make it a threesome.”
“You happy? With Kelly?”
“More than I ever thought was possible, Will,” Elaine answered with conviction in her deep, dark eyes. After I honestly told her that I was happy for her, she resumed, “It’s kinda like when you used to talk about your girlfriend—I get it now.” I asked her about having sex with me, and got a blush in return. “I guess I could say that I only did it because she wanted me to—but that’s not true. There’s a part of me that’s—sexually curious—about guys. And you were the gentlest guy I’d ever been with, so, when Kelly asked me about doing a guy with her, the answer was you.”
“But she didn’t tell you how hard it was to get her to admit it,” Kelly interrupted, having silently entered. “I was hoping to catch you two at it, so I came in the back door.” The women kissed like the couple in love they were, and my cock enjoyed watching. “Go clean up the kitchen, and meet me back here after I get cleaned up, Kitten.” She turned to me, waiting until noises came from the kitchen. “Nobody says anything to anybody—ever, right?” I nodded. “I know I had no clue about you and Kitten until I made her tell me, so I think we’re safe.” She paused, and quietly resumed, “Ummm… Will… I don’t know if this will happen ever again. I don’t know if it can.”
“I understand, Kelly. Better than you think.”
“I’m sorry Elaine can’t be… the girl you want her to be.” I shrugged philosophically. “But thank you for last night. From me and Kitten.” She showered, and the three of us had lunch together while Kelly told me about herself. “My family’s well off, obviously,” she said, waving her arm to indicate the nice apartment. “I’m more or less exiled here; it’s not public knowledge back home that I’m… not exclusively heterosexual but my dad is worried that it could come out, and that would be a major scandal. He thinks he can’t afford the negative publicity because he has ambitions. It’s always been about him, and the perfect family is just an accessory. He was mortified when I started smoking, not because I smoked, but because I preferred his cigars to my mom’s Virginia Slims. Not a girl thing and all that. I figure the only reason he hasn’t disowned me is because it would raise too many questions back home. On the other hand, my mom doesn’t care about me being more into girls than boys, and wanted me to have a life, so the compromise was that I would come here to college. Far enough away as to be invisible, some place where I would be unheralded and unnoticed, as long as I left any… relationships here. I didn’t expect to fall in love.” Elaine blushed. “Kitten and I are going to stay here after graduation, which will suit my dad just fine.”
After that, Mary Anne was… a disappointment. We spent Friday night together, and she felt… wonderful. She smoked divinely, eyes sparkling with teasing, lecherous intent. But something was missing, something that I had lost because I didn’t have Daisy. Ultimately, I realized that it was purely physical, and that beyond the fun of fucking and having my fetish catered to extremely well, I didn’t care.
As for Daisy, she didn’t call, and stopped writing weekly. This wasn’t a surprise: I had warned her that both of us would get busy. She wrote monthly, longer letters, about how fabulous and fascinating London was, but that she wished I was there to see it with her. She wrote me in November that she wouldn’t be coming home for Christmas—her break was short and it was far too expensive for such a brief visit. The rest of the letter was full of melancholy. She missed home, her folks, and me—and London was a poor substitute. I chose not to go home for Thanksgiving, spending it with Elaine, Kelly, and a few of their friends at their place. Kelly took an occasional puff from the after-dinner cigar she gave me, softly apologizing for the excitement it caused, and the sex that we couldn’t have. “There’s always masturbation and fantasy,” I quietly admitted as I left.
My sexual malaise lasted through the end of the semester, despite Mary Anne’s best efforts, and stretched through Christmas break. We went to the Woodfords’ for New Year’s Eve as usual, where I spent most of my time commiserating with Daisy’s mom over her daughter’s absence.
Daisy didn’t write in January, but when it extended through February, I began to get concerned. She did write a short note in March, letting me know that she was fine, but she had been incredibly busy, and that was why she hadn’t written sooner, commenting, “I barely have enough time to write my folks.” The letter made her absence resonate acutely, but surprisingly, it also ended my sexual malaise. I’d been chaste since Mary Anne in September, substituting schoolwork and tutoring for sexual thoughts, even going so far as to avoid Harrison Hall completely. Something had to give, and two weeks before Spring Break, I took up residence in Harrison Hall, spending every free minute (and a couple of classes) hoping to, at the least, find current fantasy material. I got something better. On the second day of my vigil, I had found a group of four girls who sat together, all smoking the beige More Lights. Given the enormous surge and swelling of my largely forgotten dick at the sight, it was going to be a hot night in my room. I even contemplated finding some pretext to meet the rotund blonde in the group so I wouldn’t have to fly solo.
“Will!” Mary Anne’s voice snapped me out of my musing. “I haven’t seen you around in like forever! What’cha been doing with yourself?” I told her how busy I had been and offered to buy her coffee, unsure of how she regarded me after such a long time. We started talking, Mary Anne telling me what she and Chrissie had been doing, and their plans for Spring Break. “Goin’ to Florida for like, one last fling. Pretty sure I won’t get to do it again after graduation.” She paused before innocently asking, “C’n I have a cigarette? I haven’t had a More in a long time.” I gave her one, and was going to ask her if she had tried the More Lights, but Mary Anne lit the More, drew long, lifted her chin, and exhaled a thick trail of smoke through her lips with the softest, “ffff…” The long brown cigarette sat between her fingers as her extended arm rested on the table. Mary Anne gave me a goofy grin as her eyes danced at me; evidently, we were still good. More Lights were instantly forgotten—along with our remaining classes for the day. As soon as she had gotten halfway through the More, she softly husked, “Y’wanna get out of here? Chrissie’s gonna be in studio ’til late workin’ on her senior project.”
We headed to her apartment at one-thirty in the afternoon, stopping to pick up her own pack of More Menthols. Five minutes later, Mary Anne was on her knees, More in one hand, the base of my cock in the other as she alternated bathing my cock with smoke and her soft, warm mouth. Painfully rigid, I warned her that she was going to waste my first erection if she didn’t stop. She looked up at me and took a playful puff that ended in a quick french-inhale. My cock twitched. “A little sensitive today? Guess it’s been a while for somebody,” she grinned after a hurried, noisy exhale. Giving the head a mischievous lick, she looked at my cock, then up at me before taking a long, long, deep drag, sending smoke streaming from her nostrils in twin, thick ribbons.
Her eyes sparkled as she opened her mouth to let smoke escape before sucking it back into her mouth and lungs. My cock pulsed strongly in her hand as she eased her prodigious chest forward and exhaled more smoke through her lips. Mary Anne paused, deliberating… and then she engulfed my cock and began to bob her head steadily along my length, stopping for a final, glorious drag and thick, oral exhale. My legs wobbled as she resumed sucking, intent on her task. I moaned, my butt tightened, and I reflexively rammed my cock into her mouth as the first massive burst of cum tore through it. She kept bobbing her head, and my second volley filled her mouth to overflowing. I think I cried out when she started stroking, and I plastered her tits with more cum.
When it was over, she giggled and ran her fingers through the goo that was dripping from her neck, tits, and mouth. “That was fun! When was the last time you got laid? It looks like a few months!” As soon as I caught my breath, I answered her question, to which she perkily responded, “You’re so sweet, saving yourself for me.” I asked her why she hadn’t stopped at foreplay. “You were really into it and it was fun making you make all those noises. I wasn’t expecting six months of cum.” There was a brief pause. “Besides,” Mary Anne huskily resumed, “I know you’ll be ready soon enough,” picking up the pack of Mores before heading to her bedroom.
A bathroom break, some water, and a smoky handjob later, I was fucking Mary Anne as we lay spooned, slowly pulling my dick almost all the way out, and, equally slowly, pushing it in to the hilt. “Ohhhh… Wiiiiilllllll… you’re sooooooo gooooood,” she softly crooned on her steady climb towards orgasm. Mary Anne turned red, shuddered, and whimpered through an extended one, immediately asking me to stop when she came down.
I pulled out of her with a loud slurp, her juices covering my cock (and a large spot on her bed.) Mary Anne looked at my undiminished erection with inviting lust, rolled onto her back, and spread her legs. I repositioned myself, and a resounding “PHBBBLTTH!” from her pussy signaled my reentry. I went faster, she got louder and redder and I began fucking her with reckless abandon and then she cried out and wrapped herself around me, her pussy convulsing massively around my cock.
“UFFFFF!” Mary Anne collapsed onto the bed, her orgasmic seizure over. “Fuckme!” she urgently hissed, panting in rhythm with my thrusts, my own orgasm nowhere in sense. She came twice more from my enthusiastic fucking, and feebly pushed at me to stop. She groaned when I pulled out, still hard. “Ohhhh… wowwwww… Will… that was… that was… fan-tastic! But I can’t… take anymore!” I kissed her, said that it was all right, and shifted to lie on my side. Mary Anne pushed herself to her knees, grabbed a More from the nightstand and snap-inhaled as she lit it. Taking a long, smooth drag with splayed fingers, she gaily tossed her head and exhaled towards the ceiling. I began to masturbate, but she gently placed her free hand on mine. After her next drag, Mary Anne opened her mouth to engulf my cock as smoke poured out of her nose, with the More somewhat incongruously held daintily at the end of her outstretched hand. “I seem to remember that you really enjoy this,” she teased. She lit a second More as the first one burned down, and a few puffs into it, I came. Mary Anne let it spill out of her mouth to run down my cock, purring lewdly as I shot a second and third time up into her mouth, only to resume sucking and stroking until I ran dry. She licked her hand clean, and took a final drag from the More. “Next time,” she throatily declared, “it’s your turn to give.” I left her apartment quickly because neither of us wanted Chrissie to catch us. Sated, and I was very much looking forward to the following Saturday, when it would be my turn.
Mary Anne asked if I wanted to ride to Florida with them, but I couldn’t afford a hotel room on my own and I didn’t want to be a third wheel for Chrissie, so I stayed behind at school. Friday night, the pinball room was virtually empty, save for Pam, who was the monitor, and a couple of foreign grad students playing foosball. I guessed that she was feeling stressed out because she lit Eve menthol 120’s on a steady basis while poring over a Calculus book. I moved to a machine that gave me a vantage point to watch clandestinely, but she was too absorbed in her work to notice my attention, only raising her head briefly when one of the grad students shouted in triumph. He apologized, embarrassed, and left with his friend, leaving Pam and I alone.
She reached into the pack sitting on the desk, but it was empty. She crushed it, ostensibly aggrieved that it was empty, and paused in her studies to reach into her purse for a fresh one. Wordlessly, she tapped it on the desk a couple of times before efficiently opening it and pulling out an Eve, lighting it without breaking her contemplation of calculus. I watched her drag, short, but deep. Pam looked up from her book, inclined her head slightly, and exhaled with a soft hiss. Cigarette held high, near the end of the filter with effeminately cocked wrist, she returned her attention to her book, repeating her actions with a practiced familiarity for each puff.
I watched Pam smoke more than I played pinball, but she was so engrossed in her studies, I don’t think she looked at me once. She acknowledged my presence by giving me the standard fifteen-minute warning before closing. Pam heaved a heavy sigh before turning to go back to her desk. I asked her what was wrong. “Oh, it’s just that I’m way behind in this stupid calculus class. I was thinking I could catch up over the break while I worked, since it’s pretty quiet here, but it still doesn’t make sense,” she grumbled in frustration.
“I tutor in calc,” I helpfully offered. “I can probably help you catch up.”
“Really? You can?” I nodded. “Can we start now?” she asked. “I’m wide awake—too much coffee and cigarettes, and I’m too nervous about this to sleep.” It was an odd request, but given how much I’d seen her smoke over the last three hours, one I could understand. I wasn’t tired, either, so I invited her to my room.
Pam put her books and purse on my desk, turned to face me, and put her arms lightly on my shoulders. “So.”
“I thought you wanted tutoring,” I said.
“And I thought you were just saying that to get me to your room,” she replied. “So.”
“I do tutor,” I reiterated, “and since most of my students are out of town this week, my offer still stands. But very early on a Saturday morning is a rotten time to do it, regardless of how awake we are.” Pam stood on tiptoe, and we kissed. “You don’t have to pretend to get me to help you.”
After considering that for a few moments, she coyly asked, “What if I’m not pretending and I’m just—horny? Can you help with that, too? I think you’re cute. Really.”
While it wasn’t as extreme as my previous two Spring Break experiences, Pam spent a lot of time in my room that week, almost equally divided between tutoring, sleep, and sex. “So is Chrissie’s friend—your girlfriend?” she asked after we had returned from an off-campus movie. I told her no. “Not that I’m implying it woulda changed anything this week. I’m almost caught up in calc, and it’s only Thursday! And,” Pam huskily continued, “I’m havin’ the best sex of my life after studyin’s over. Every night.” I lit her Eve 120, and watched her toss her head before she exhaled noisily in a quick cone. Her dark eyes acquired a sultry cast, followed by a long, deep drag and leisurely exhale performed sensuously. “So why change the pattern now?”
She bummed a More from me the next afternoon as I quizzed her about integration rules. Reclined in my guest chair, cigarette held high near the filter, she looked relaxed. Her drags were moderate in length, but deep; the sunlight coming through my window illuminated her nasal residuals. Pam always lifted her chin by a few degrees after her drag, pursed her lips, and once the cigarette was again held high in its resting place, only then would she exhale. It was the natural way she smoked when she was relaxed, and it was enchanting. It wasn’t that Pam knew about me, but like many girls at that time, the sensuality of smoking was a part of its allure, and it was something that many women cultivated, whether consciously or not. “I used to smoke these for about six months,” she reflected, studying the More. “But my friends n’ me were the “girly” cigarette bunch, so we all switched to Virginia Slim Lights, an’ then More Lights came out. Now Eve 120s—the flowers, plus they’re as slim and long as Mores, so I guess I’m still into girly cigarettes. I’m gonna go get some more after I turn in the assignments.” Pam dragged again, still relaxed, unknowingly and unintentionally heating me up. “So y’wanna meet for dinner at Wolverton Center at about six-thirty?”
Pam faded into the background by silent, mutual consent, with the only sign of our torrid week being the occasional wink and sly smiles exchanged in the arcade. Mary Anne took over, taking care of my sexual needs for the rest of my college career. While she had given up on being my girlfriend, she was quite happy to take advantage of my fetish right up until an hour before my parents arrived for graduation. I would have left her place sooner, but she had smoked a More with stylish flair while laying naked on her bed, and eyes full of lust. “Will…” she said as we kissed at her door, “it’s been… a lot of fun. I promise never to tell anybody—but I just might find another guy to use it on. Good luck with your girlfriend.”
Mr. and Mrs. Woodford sent me a generous graduation gift via my folks, but oddly, Daisy did not even send a card. She had dropped me a postcard from Amsterdam in late April that I hadn’t gotten around to answering, so I figured that she was as busy as I had been. I left college bound for graduate school in my hometown, and the day when Daisy and I would be together was a year closer. I replied to her postcard as soon as I got home, the first page full of apology for not having written her sooner. I got my reply a month later, another short note congratulating me on graduation, and wishing me luck in graduate school.
The July fourth party at the Woodfords’ summer house wasn’t much fun without Daisy. Apparently, there was something major going on at the financial house, and all the interns were needed. “Daisy said they postponed her vacation,” sighed her mother. “She’s not coming home until the second week in August.” Mrs. Woodford allowed me to light her cigarette. “That’s not going to give you two much time before you start grad school, is it?”
“No, it won’t,” I dejectedly confirmed. “I definitely don’t want to screw with my first week in grad school.” She patted my hand in a gesture of comfort… and then whispered in my ear that we would have the summer house for the week, and winked as she walked away, hips swinging, with her More effeminately held, inspiring an entirely inappropriate thought. Living at home wasn’t going to be easy, but my stipend wasn’t extravagant, and I would save a fortune in rent. I sighed. Getting laid was going to be nearly impossible, and I hoped that Daisy would give me a week or two of fond memories to tide me over until her internship ended.
What I got changed my life. I arrived at the summer house to meet Daisy that August. I saw her waiting for me at the front door as I got out of the car. She had grown up; she wasn’t the fresh-faced girl I had known. Daisy was made up, dressed up—in a professional way, and she looked… older. “Will!” she exclaimed, Virginia Slim in hand, “it’s so good to see you again!” We hugged, and she kissed me—continental-style, on both cheeks. I was puzzled, because it wasn’t the greeting I had expected. Maybe she’s just used to British reserve and propriety now. “Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested, taking my arm as we walked away from the summer house into the woods nearby. “How have you been?”
We walked and talked for quite a while, catching up with each other. However, she made no move to hold my hand, or wrap herself around me as she usually did, nor had we kissed other than the brief cheek-to-cheek greeting. Daisy hadn’t even lit a Virginia Slim. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Why don’t you just say what you need to, Daisy?” I asked. “I’m a big boy, and I’ve always been a realist when it comes to you and me.”
She stopped walking and quietly swore, “Damn you, Will Redmond. You’re too damn perceptive for your own good.” I pointed out that she had been treating me like a hot potato. “I thought it would make it easier,” confessed Daisy, “on me. I was kinda… hopin’ that when you didn’t write back right away, it was because you found another girl. I shoulda known better.”
“Found somebody in London?”
“Ummm… I’m not sure… but maybe? I don’t know.” The words spilled out in rapid succession. “We get along really well an’ he’s helped me get used to being over there an’—” I held up my hand to interrupt her, having no need to hear her tell me how wonderful she found some other guy. “It started out as me being lonely,” Daisy whined. My heart fractured a little. I had always known the possibility existed from the night she told me about her internship, but had chosen not to dwell on it. In that sense, I was prepared for her revelation, and had fortified myself in advance. The prefabricated shell was holding everything together—but it still hurt. A lot.
“I haven’t told my parents yet—or yours,” she sighed. “My mother’s gonna kill me.” The woods went silent. “Will,” Daisy hesitantly began, “I don’t think I’m the right girl for you—please, let me finish.” I leaned against a tree and kept my frustrated counter to myself. “You remember Carla Bosetti from the club—the lady with the cigarette holder and the guy almost young enough to be her son?” I nodded. Where Mrs. Woodford had a mature, relaxed sensuality about her, Carla was the girl your mother warned you about—all grown up, with her looks mostly intact. “She’s only there because she married a guy from the club—a really nice guy, one of the sweetest you’d ever want to meet. He adored her. Six years later, they got divorced—she broke his heart and took half his money while she was at it. He’s just always so—sad now that it hurts to see him.” Now the thinly disguised contempt I felt from other club members whenever I was around Ms. Bosetti there made sense. She was a pariah, albeit one who obviously reveled in flaunting it. That also explained the boy toy.
“Her ex is walking around with this gaping wound that everybody can see except him,” Daisy continued. “He’s still successful, and the way Carla spends money, he better be. But to get to my point, I may not be her exactly, but I know that right now, there’s a chance that I could break your heart in a big way a few years down the line. I can’t do that to you. It’s been a year, and I feel tempted and seduced way more than I should.” Daisy sniffled, tears beginning to fall. “And I hate myself for messing with the nicest guy I know. You deserve somebody better than me.” I reached to console her, but she half-heartedly tried to spin away, babbling about how she had led me on for the past four years and how despicable that was and how sorry she was. Finally, she allowed me to hug her, and cried into my shoulder. “Please… don’t hate me, Will,” she pleaded.
“I could never hate you, Daisy,” I quietly declared, as I realized that she wasn’t the type of girl who would be content sharing my life. Daisy had outgrown me. It’s the right thing to do, and now is the right time, my brain analytically supplied. You have the rest of your life ahead of you. Plenty of time to find the right girl. I could now see that our differences, seemingly complimentary to this point, would always cause tension between us. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman, at home in the halls of money and the financial capitols of the world, one who could have rich and powerful men at her feet. I was an average-looking bookworm, more or less, most at home in a classroom. “I think we better be getting back to the party,” I softly suggested. A little while later, Mrs. Woodford paled noticeably when she saw me, and Mr. Woodford shook his head, but none of us knew what to say to each other. I hung out enough with Daisy to keep a façade for my parents—I didn’t tell them until the next day. When Daisy would smoke, it was with quick, almost-furtive puffs from her Virginia Slim Lights, fast stream exhales aimed forcefully at the ground without any hint of her usual elegant, sexy style. She was smoking to fill a need, highly aware of the importance of not inciting anything else. That’s when I knew, without any hope possible to the contrary, that it was over.