Nicki took a final, deep triple pump from the dark, brown
filter of her Kool 100 and dropped the glowing butt on the
sidewalk in front of the office building. She inhaled
heavily and felt her rib cage expand as the thick, tar-rich
smoke filled her darkening, nicotine-craving, glorious
lungs. She exhaled slowly through her nostrils as she
walked through the door of the building and headed for the
elevator.
Nicki had not yet settled on a regular brand and was having
fun trying different cigarettes. She enjoyed the taste of
this full-flavored menthol cigarette and liked the cool
feeling in her mouth as she breathed in. “Wow! That’s so
cool, I can feel it,” thought Nicki to herself. She pressed
the button for the third floor and put her fingers to her
nose. She loved the smell of nicotine on her fingers. Nicki
was now a full-fledged nicotine addict. She loved
everything about her new habit. Her lungs felt unusually
congested as she coughed deeply. The cough flooded her
mouth with the hot taste of nicotine and Nicki immediately
craved another cigarette. She would wait.
Nicki stopped outside the office door and looked at the
plaque on the wall. It read, “Mark Polmoni – Attorney at
Law.” “This is the place,” thought Nicki. She brushed a few
traces of cigarette ashes from her skirt, straightened her
hair, and opened the door.
Nicki walked through the door and stepped into a thick,
yellowish haze. She immediately recognized the haze as
cigarette smoke. Through the haze she saw the smiling face
of Bonnie, Mark’s receptionist. Bonnie took a long drag
from her freshly lit Winston and set her cigarette down in
her ashtray. In a very Suzanne Pleshette-like voice, Bonnie
said, “May I help you?” Smoke exited her mouth with each
word she spoke and continued to flow from her nostrils
after she had finished speaking. Bonnie appeared to be in
her early fifties, but was actually several years younger
than her appearance would indicate. A lifetime of smoking
had added a number of years to her face. It was a pretty
face, a face which could easily have been a homecoming
queen’s face thirty years earlier. It was now a face with
character, covered with lines, lines which had been formed
as the result of lighting more than sixty full-flavored
cigarettes per day for the past thirty-five years. With
each drag Bonnie took, the creases emanating from the
corners of her mouth, and from the corners of her eyes,
became more permanently engraved in her face. She had a
very slim figure and Nicki thought it would be wonderful to
look as nice as Bonnie when she reached her age.
“My name is Nicki St. James,” said Nicki. “I’m here to see
Mark…er, Mr. Polmoni.”
“Ah, yes,” said Bonnie. “He’s expecting you. Go right
inside.” Bonnie pressed the button on the intercom to
Mark’s office and said, “Miss St. James to see you, sir.”
Then she took a long, cheek-hollowing drag from her
Winston, leaned back in her chair, and inhaled deeply as
Nicki headed into Mark’s office. Nicki couldn’t help
thinking what a wonderful job Bonnie had. “To be able to
sit at a desk and smoke cigarettes all day…that would be
heaven,” thought Nicki.
Mark smiled as Nicki entered his office. “Well, Nicki, I
hadn’t expected to see you again so soon,” said Mark.
“Please have a seat…and, by all means, please have a
cigarette.” Mark extended his pack of Marlboro Reds to
Nicki and shook one loose.
“Thanks, Mark, but I’ll have one of my own.” She pulled her
pack of Kool Super Longs from her purse and threw it down
on Mark’s desk. Nicki removed one of the cigarettes from
the pack and placed the firm, round filter between her
soft, moist lips. With the cigarette dangling from her
mouth, she leaned over Mark’s desk to accept a light.
Nicki’s hair brushed against Mark’s wrist as he lit her
cigarette. She took a deep drag and sat down in her chair.
She took another long drag and exhaled a long plume of
smoke in Mark’s direction. Mark inhaled deeply as he tried
to breathe in all of Nicki’s menthol freshness.
“Lady, be cool!” said Mark as he felt his dick stiffening.
“How do you like menthol cigarettes?”
“I love them,” said Nicki. “They leave such a fresh taste
in my mouth. I may stick with these.” She double-pumped
again and filled her wonderful lungs with smoke.
“So, tell me,” said Mark. “What is this all about? My
secretary said you needed to see me immediately.”
“I think I need an attorney, Mark. Will you help me?” asked
Nicki as she inhaled another lungful of mentholated smoke.
“I’ll do whatever I can,” said Mark. “How can I help?”
“Well,” Nicki started, “I took your advice. I walked to
school this morning, smoking cigarettes the entire way. My
friends, of course, were shocked. I tried my best to
convince them that smoking is wonderful. I did a pretty
good job, I think. A couple of them may actually be willing
to give it a try.”
“That’s wonderful news!” said Mark. “So, what’s the
problem?”
“Well, when I got to school, the first thing I did was head
for the teachers’ lounge. I knew Sarah would be in there,
smoking. She always stays in there till the last minute.
Somehow, she always times it so she finishes her last
cigarette just before first hour begins.”
“That’s my girl,” beamed Mark.
“Anyway,” continued Nicki, “I joined Sarah for a cigarette.
Sarah seemed shocked, then happy, to see me. I smoked three
cigarettes. Sarah smoked six. She was smoking two at a
time. God, that girl takes a lot of nicotine into her
lungs!”
Mark smiled again, proudly.
“It was almost time for first hour to begin,” Nicki went
on, “When a couple of teachers walked in. They paid no
attention to Sarah, but when they saw me, they had a fit.
They said I was not allowed to smoke in school and I was
sent directly to the principal’s office. Mr. Stickel gave
me a warning and said that if I was caught smoking in
school again, I would be expelled.”
“That bastard,” said Mark.
“That’s not the worst part,” said Nicki. “He called my
track coach, Miss Krebs, down to the office. She talked to
me for a while and asked me if I planned to continue
smoking. I said, ‘Absolutely. There’s no law against it.’
She said, ‘There may be no law against it, but I won’t
permit smoking by one of my athletes. Either you quit
smoking or you’re off the team.’ I said, ‘I’m the best
athlete in this school, smoking or not. You can’t kick me
off the team.’ She said, ‘I can, and I will. Are you going
to quit smoking?’ I said, ‘Hell, no!’ I was pretty angry at
that point.”
“Then what happened?” asked Mark.
“Well, to make a long story short, she kicked me off the
team. That bitch! After all I’ve done for her.” Nicki was
so angry that her hands were shaking as she, once again,
pumped her glorious lungs full of Kool smoke. She took
several more deep drags while a continuous stream of smoke
flowed from her nostrils.
“Hmmm,” said Mark, rubbing his chin. “Is there any written
rule prohibiting you from smoking while you’re a member of
the track team?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen,” said Nicki.
“Did your coach ever tell you, specifically, that you
couldn’t smoke?” asked Mark.
“No,” said Nicki. “The subject never came up. I think it
was always assumed that none of us would ever smoke. I
mean, we’re runners! You can’t run track if you smoke,
right?” Nicki took another long, deep drag from her Kool
100 and sucked all of the rich, toxic smoke deep into her
tarry lungs.
“Uh, right,” said Mark. “Do you want to stay on the track
team, Nicki? I mean, do you feel you can still run at a
competitive level?”
“Mark, I can still beat most of those girls, even if I have
to strap an oxygen tank to my back,” said Nicki. “My
performance is suffering right now because my lungs aren’t
used to all the tar I’ve recently started pumping into
them. But they will adjust to their new, reduced breathing
capacity. My muscles can be trained to work on less oxygen.
I may never reach my peak form again, but I still have a
few good races left in me. I just have to build my lungs
back up gradually. I am fully prepared to give up athletics
altogether in order to keep smoking…if I have to. But I
would like the chance to prove that I can do both.” Nicki’s
competitive flame burned brightly, as did the tip of her
nearly finished cigarette. She took a final, long drag,
inhaled deeply, and put a fresh cigarette between her lips.
She held the tip of her glowing butt to the end of her new
cigarette. With smoke flowing from her nostrils, her cheeks
indented deeply as she sucked life into her fresh Kool.
“That’s good enough for me,” said Mark as he discreetly
shifted his swelling penis around inside his pants. “I can
promise you that by the time I’m done talking to Mr.
Stickel, not only will you be back on the track team, but
there will be ashtrays installed in your locker room for
any of the girls who want to smoke.”
“Whoa! I just want to stay on the team,” said Nicki. “I
don’t want to push them too far.”
“Trust me, Nicki, I’ve dealt with Stickel before,” said
Mark. “He will probably offer to keep the locker room
stocked with free cigarettes for all the girls after I’m
done with him. You have nothing to worry about. They can’t
kick you off the team without just cause.”
“I trust you, Mark,” said Nicki. The tip of her cigarette
glowed brightly, from another cheek-hollowing drag, as she
settled back in her chair.
Mark continued, “That’s not all, Nicki. I negotiated
Sarah’s special arrangement which allows her to smoke in
the teachers’ lounge. It has always been my intention to
see that Sarah’s privileges were extended to all students.
I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize Sarah’s chances
of smoking in school, so I had planned on waiting until she
had graduated to pursue the issue. But, now, I think we
will speed up the process.”
“Oh, Mark, that sounds incredible,” said Nicki with smoke
pouring from her mouth. “Do you really think I will be able
to smoke in school.”
“I guarantee it,” said Mark. “Let’s just say Mr. Stickel
and I have a special understanding. He was a biology
teacher when my wife and I were students at your school. He
was also Lori’s swimming instructor. Lori has some
‘information’ about Mr. Stickel that he would not like to
see made public. I promise you, he will play ball with us.”
“You’re wonderful, Mark,” said Nicki after another
lung-filling drag from her Kool 100. “Your wife is about
the luckiest lady I know.”
“Thanks,” said Mark. “But I’m the one who is lucky. I would
gladly do anything in my power to help a female smoker.”
“Like Bonnie, your receptionist?” asked Nicki. “I would
love to have her job.”
“Bonnie’s great,” said Mark. “She’s been with me for nearly
twenty years.”
“It’s wonderful that you allow her to smoke on the job,”
said Nicki.
“It’s a requirement!” laughed Mark. “Smokers are so
discriminated against these days that I made it an
unwritten policy to hire only women who are heavy smokers.
I encourage all my employees to smoke as much as possible
in the office. One of the fringe benefits I provide is
unlimited free cigarettes for each employee. I also provide
bonuses and raises partially based on the number of
cigarettes per day each employee smokes. Therefore, as
their smoking rate increases, so does their pay. Pretty
nice arrangement, huh?”
“That sounds almost too good to be true,” said Nicki in
amazement. “I think I really would like to work for you
some day.”
“Come and see me when you’re in the job market,” said Mark.
“I’m sure we can work something out. By the way, I also
provide cigarettes for Sarah and all of her close smoking
friends. I’d like to include you in that group.”
“And what would you ask in return?” asked Nicki with a
grin.
“Only the satisfaction of knowing that you are keeping your
lungs constantly packed with tar and nicotine,” said Mark.
“It will give me intense pleasure to know that you are
always carrying a little gift from me inside your lungs.”
“It’s a deal,” said Nicki as she finished off her Kool with
an exceptionally deep triple-pump. “I have noticed how
expensive cigarettes are.”
“Good. Let’s shake on it,” said Mark, extending his hand
across the desk.
“What? A handshake instead of a kiss? Not after all that
you’ve done for me,” said Nicki. She jumped up and trotted
around the desk. With the smoke from her last drag still
deep inside her lungs, she leaned over to plant a smoky
kiss on Mark’s mouth.
Mark’s face turned red with embarrassment as Nicki glanced
downward. “Oooo, Mr. Counselor!” cooed Nicki. “Have you got
a carton of cigarettes in your pants, or are you just happy
to see me?”
“Ummm, Nicki, I think we should go into my private study
and discuss the finer points of your case,” said Mark with
a grin. He spoke into his intercom, “Bonnie, I don’t want
any interruptions for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll be in
conference with Miss St. James.” He took Nicki by the hand
and led her into an adjoining room. In the room Nicki could
see a large couch with several large, fluffy pillows.
“Wow! Nice study,” said Nicki, as she lit up another Kool
and double-pumped her lungs full of menthol-freshened tar
and nicotine. Before Nicki had a chance to exhale, Mark
placed his mouth firmly over hers and began French-kissing
her deeply. It looked like another long afternoon in the
legal trenches for Mark.