Isn’t it wonderful that pretty women and girls smoke cigarettes? I love
women, and I really put beautiful women on a pedestal. I want them to always
be happy, and always feel good. That’s why it makes me feel good that a
woman or girl can get so much pleasure from smoking a cigarette.
Thinking about the pleasure that a female is getting from smoking is equal in
impact for me with the incredible beauty of watching her confidently inhaling
and exhaling cigarette smoke.
To me, each moment, each step as a woman smokes a cigarette has its own
special appeal. To me, smoking is the most sensuous act that a female can
perform, because of its beauty, and because smoking is something that can
completely transform a woman’s image. As smoking has recently received less
social acceptance than in years past, to see a female happily defying others’
expectations and smoking, simply because she wants to, gives me great
satisfaction. The more a female seems to be enjoying smoking a cigarette,
the more beautiful and sensuous it is for me to watch her smoke.
I will never get over the adrenaline rush I feel when an attractive woman or
girl first reveals herself to me as a smoker; when for the first time I see
her walking from a store with a pack of cigarettes, a flip-top box stuffed
proudly in her jeans pocket, or an ash tray near her. I wonder if I’ll be
fortunate enough to observe her smoking.
I want to know everything! What tempted her to try smoking? When she smoked
a cigarette for the very first time, and how she liked it. How she felt when
for the first time she saw a burning cigarette between her fingertips, and
smoke coming from her mouth. What about her first cigarette encouraged her
to light and smoke her second cigarette? How she felt about her image the
first time she smoked a cigarette in front of friends and family members.
After smoking a few cigarettes, how she felt as she first realized that she
would need to go beyond puffs, and breathe smoke into her lungs to satisfy
the newfound dependency that she so happily was developing in her body. How
I wish I could have witnessed that first, deep “have-to” inhalation, and the
look of surprise and joy on her face as the effect of the smoke she breathed
was not the discomfort she slightly feared, but real satisfaction instead.
How I wish I could have hugged her when she silently told herself, “I’m going
to smoke again soon. Smoking makes me feel good. I’ve never felt this way
before. I feel so good, so alive when I smoke. And cigarette smoke tastes
so good. Mmmm.”
I think about her feeling a combined sense of pride, self-consciousness and
commitment, as for the first time she walks up to a counter and asks a clerk
for a pack of cigarettes. She feels herself blushing as the clerk asks,
“Soft pack or box? King size or 100’s? On the way from the store, she tells
herself, “I won’t smoke too many cigarettes…I’ll keep it under control, but
it really would be nice to have my own cigarettes, so I can smoke a cigarette
whenever I feel like it.” She makes the decision that the feelings available
to her from a cigarette are worth paying for, and worth the
self-consciousness that comes from buying them. What a great moment!
I wish I could have been a fly on the wall the first time she stepped
privately in front of a mirror and watched herself as she lights up and
smokes a cigarette, taking pride in her new image, and feeling secretly
impressed with her appearance as she exhales smooth streams of smoke from her
lips. She experiences a revelation, “I look nice smoking. It’s not
unattractive at all, now that I inhale my smoke.” She studies her technique,
striving to look casual and ladylike as she smokes. She wants to continue to
smoke, and she wonders if males will react favorably. She looks forward to
beginning to smoke in public, and hopes to be prepared as well as possible.
But…back to the present fantasy. My adrenaline overcomes me as I watch my
friend, a tall, slender, pretty young woman of eighteen, sit down beside me
and slide a Marlboro Light 100 from her pack. “Would you mind if I smoke?”,
she asks sweetly, as I smile at her. She knows that I love to hear her ask
that question, and she knows the answer will be, “Go ahead.” She happily
holds the filter of her long, white Marlboro Light to her soft lips, between
two long, slender, delicate fingers, as she positions the flame from her
lighter near the tip of her cigarette. Her anticipation is high. She is
about to smoke tobacco. She knows the satisfaction of the smoke she is about
to breathe into her thin, womanly body.
Her tanned, slender forearm presses against a nipple as she holds her
cigarette to her lips with her fingertips.
She seals her sensuous lips around the filter, creating suction to draw a
heavy stream of smoke into her throat and lungs, for no other purpose than to
experience pure physical pleasure. Her beautiful cheekbones are highlighted
as her cheeks curve in. The tip of her cigarette glows red hot, a sure sign
that cigarette smoke is now flowing into her body. She disregards the
objections of non-smokers, the possible health risks, the moralizing of some,
and draws smoke from her cigarette simply to enjoy the pleasant taste and
sensations that cigarette smoke and nicotine provide her.
She releases her cigarette from her lips. A wisp of smoke near the filter
disappears into her mouth. She leisurely inhales, absorbing the chemicals
from the smoke, to take full advantage of the sensations her cigarette will
deliver. Her lungs fill with cigarette smoke. She is helpless to resist
tobacco smoke, and has no reason to want to. She has made a commitment. She
is a woman who satisfies her urges. She is a smoker.
Some seconds later, she holds her lips close together to enhance her
appearance as she exhales the smoke that was held beneath her small, firm
breasts. The smoke, flowing over her tongue, tantalizes her taste buds with
the rich, satisfying taste that is only available from a cigarette. Her
exhale is heavy, long and smooth. Now there is cigarette smoke several feet
in front of her lips; smoke that so recently was one with her womanly body.
“So good,” she thinks to herself, “I really need this cigarette.” She is
disappointed as the exhale ends, but she takes comfort in knowing that her
cigarette is long and fresh, and she is able to draw smoke into her body
whenever she pleases, as deeply as she pleases. With her cigarette between
her fingertips, she moves her long, wavy light brown hair back behind her
shoulders. Then, as an afterthought, she places her long, white cigarette in
her mouth, takes the ruffled elastic band from her wrist, and pulls her hair
into a ponytail. I see her lips seal on the filter of her cigarette as she
takes her second drag while fussing with her silky hair, and in as ladylike
way as possible, exhales smoke past the cigarette in her lips.
As she finishes with her pretty hair, she brings two long fingers near her
mouth, on either side of her cigarette, and holds them in a V. Her
cigarette glows red hot, and moves slightly up and down in her lips as she
applies suction to the filter. Smoke flows into her body. After a vigorous
draw, she captures her cigarette between her fingertips and removes it from
her lips. Her lips pout open. Watching closely, I see her breasts rising as
she draws cigarette smoke into her lungs. She smiles slightly as smoke flows
from her lips. A tiny stream of smoke flows from each nostril, mixing with
the heavy stream of smoke smoothly flowing from her mouth. At my
encouragement, she speaks often about her smoking. “I couldn’t wait for this
cigarette. I just finished a tough mid-term. Whenever I’m in a place where
I can’t smoke, I want it even more.”
She looks down at the long, burning cigarette between her slender fingers.
She switched recently from king size to 100’s. The longer cigarette looks so
nice in her hand, and she has noticed that her first drags are milder. For a
moment, she idly watches the little wisp of smoke still coming from the
filter, then looks up at me and smiles. She is happy to be a young woman, is
excited to be a college freshman, and secretly is pleased with the way that
smoking calls attention to her beauty. Today she is wearing a halter top and
short, black shorts. I have complimented her quite often on her long, firm,
slender legs. Her hand, holding her cigarette, now rests on her silky,
slender thigh, her cigarette awaiting its next contact with her lips.
When I first met her, and she smoked for the first time in front of me, she
mentioned that sometimes people gave her a hard time about her smoking. I
told her, “I think it’s nice that you smoke.” “And,” I added, “You look very
attractive smoking a cigarette. You have so much style in the way you
smoke.” She blushed and rolled her brown eyes when I told her, but her huge
smile revealed how flattered she was. She said, “I’m glad, because smoking
is something I totally enjoy. Several guys have said they like watching me
smoke. It makes me feel good to know that, because I have to smoke, and I
certainly don’t want to stop.”
She looks directly at me with her big brown eyes when she takes her next
drag, and when she smoothly exhales smoke. As the last smoke leaves her
lips, she smiles in amusement at my attention. She says, “I don’t mind if
you watch me exhale. It makes me feel sexy to know you like watching me
smoke.”
As she continues to smoke, her body comes alive with pleasure and
relaxation. She is no longer a novice. She has smoked cigarettes for five
years. Her body and soul welcome cigarette smoke as an old friend. She
takes joy in the intensely personal pleasure of smoking tobacco. As a young
woman, she is constantly thankful that she made the decision to smoke as a
girl, and had a satisfying smoking habit to rely on through the normal stress
of her teenage years.
I asked her once about starting to smoke. She said she had never been so
nervous as when, as a twelve-year-old, she asked her parents for permission
to begin smoking occasionally, to see if she liked it. Her parents, both
smokers, asked her to wait until her teenage years. A few weeks later, on a
summer day and her thirteenth birthday, to her complete surprise, she
received a carton of Marlboro Lights, and permission to smoke cigarettes.
She related how thrilled she was that her dad spent many hours with her,
gradually introducing her to smoking, seeing to it that she never felt ill,
never went too fast, until she was deeply addicted to nicotine, and delighted
with her newfound habit.
She has never regretted a choice that made cigarettes a wonderful part of her
life. Over the years, she has become completely comfortable with her image
as a smoker. As her cigarette grows short, she takes a long, last drag,
inhales, and proudly exhales smoke as she taps out her cigarette in an ash
tray nearby. She offhandedly mentions, “I really like these 100’s. I’m
going to stay with them.”
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A woman or girl who has chosen to smoke has made a commitment to her physical
pleasure. What could be more sexy than that?
Imagine a world in which every pretty woman and every pretty girl wants to
smoke cigarettes, and does so…free of legal restrictions, health risks or
moral objections. A world where every girl receives cigarettes on her
twelfth birthday as a rite of passage, is taught to smoke with the support of
her family, and enjoys a happy, healthy lifetime of smoking pleasure. Would
we men get any work done whatsoever?!
I love women and girls who smoke. I love seeing them with a long, white
cigarette between their fingertips, and leisurely inhaling and exhaling smoke
from their pretty lips. I only hope their pleasure equals the sensuous
beauty of the act.