The Babysitter (1995)

From: an222550@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an222550@anon.penet.fi
Subject:       Oops, the remailer chopped off my story...
Date: Thu, 16 Mar 1995 16:50:41 UTC




                               The Babysitter

    I remember when I was a kid growing up, I always had the
prettiest babysitters. This was the mid-70's, when teenage 
girls were really starting to smoke a lot. I remember one 
sitter in particular, who couldn't have been more than thirteen 
at the time. One night she had one of her boyfriends over while 
she was sitting, and he proceeded to light up a cigarette. I
couldn't believe this was happening. I said something smart-ass 
like "You smoke too much". He said, "No, it's Ellen who smokes 
too much! Who do you think got me started?" 

    Now I got really excited. I asked her if it was really true. 
She looked down shamefully, and said that it was. I said, "I don't 
believe it! I want to see you smoke." So she grabbed her 
boyfriend's cigarette, expertly flicked off some ashes, and 
brought it up to her pert little lips. She then proceeded to 
inhale deeply, her cheeks hollowing, and I saw a little puff 
of smoke drift out and then disappear, as she inhaled with a 
quick "haaa" sound.

    She held the smoke in for quite a while, then exhaled 
sensually, with a dreamy look in her eye. I just sat there in shock. 
She couldn't resist another quick drag before handing the cigarette 
back to her boyfriend. About that time we saw headlights as my 
parents' car turned into the driveway. The guy quickly stubbed out 
the cigarette and headed for the back door. Ellen said, "PLEASE
don't tell your parents about this, OK?". I nodded as my parents 
walked in, oblivious to what had been going on, and Ellen quickly 
excused herself and went home.

     I couldn't stop thinking of the sight of this young lady 
smoking, and the next time my parents went out, they asked who I 
wanted to be the sitter. I replied, trying to be casual about it, 
"Well, Ellen is always nice to me." So as they called her, I 
prayed that she would be available. As my mother hung up the phone, 
I began to anticipate seeing Ellen again, and hoping she would 
smoke some more.


     As the folks were leaving, my mother drew Ellen aside, and 
said, "I couldn't help but notice the smell of smoke when we got 
home last time." As Ellen started to protest, Mom held up her hand 
and said, "Don't worry about it. If you want to smoke, it is OK with 
me. After all, I started smoking when I was your age, so I 
understand completely." Now I was really excited about how the 
evening might unfold.

     Ellen and I sat around for awhile, watching TV, and I kept 
waiting anxiously to see her smoke again. She just sat there, and 
I began to wonder if I had just dreamed all that had happened so 
far. She was a pretty, young, clean-looking girl. She sure didn't 
look like a smoker. But I knew I didn't imagine all that, 
so I decided to bring up the issue myself. I nervously turned to 
her and asked, "Ellen, do you really like to smoke?"

     "Yeah, I guess I do," she replied with a sigh. "I can't 
believe my Mom said you can smoke," I said. "Does your Mom let 
you smoke, too?" She said that her mother didn't know she smoked. 
"She would probably die if she knew how much I like to smoke," 
she said wistfully. "Do you really like to smoke?" I asked 
breathlessly, not realizing that I had just asked her that. 
"Boy, you sure are the curious one, aren't you? You won't be 
satisfied until you see me smoke, will you?" she asked with 
a hint of annoyance.

     It was my turn to look away shamefully. She said, "Aw, don't 
worry about it. I have always been fascinated by smoking, too. 
And I really want one _right now_!" Now the moment I had been 
waiting for had come. She reached into her purse and pulled out 
a pack of Virginia Slims Menthols, which were currently the rage 
among teenage girls. She lit up and inhaled deeply, with her eyes 
closed like she was kissing somebody. She exhaled a thin, delicate
stream of smoke that seemed to last forever. It was the sexiest 
thing I had ever seen. Her hand went up to her lips again, and 
her cheeks hollowed as she drew in the smoke. She opened her 
lips to inhale, then closed them again and her cheeks hollowed
once more as she sucked in even more smoke. She opened her mouth
and let the smoke curl upwards from her lips before inhaling it deep
into her lungs. She held the smoke in for what seemd like forever,
then exhaled forcefully from her cute little nostrils. That was the 
first time I had ever seen someone double-drag like that, and 
I watched with rapt attention. I was suddenly afraid she would 
notice that I was trembling.

     But she was really preoccupied with her cigarette at that 
moment. It must have been a good while since she had had her last 
one, because she was really drawing heavily. She looked like
she was extremely experienced at this! "How long have you been 
smoking, Ellen," I asked this adorable "older" thirteen-year old
young lady. She said she had been smoking for four years. I did 
the arithmetic and realized that she was nine when she started, 
the same age as I was at that time. "So you have been smoking 
since you were my age, huh?" I asked. "How did you start?"

     "Well, I was just always fascinated by people smoking, 
so I used to steal cigarettes from my Daddy and light them up. 
At first, I just liked to hold the cigarette and look at it in 
my hand, but soon I tried puffing on it. I actually started 
inhaling by accident, and I think I was addicted immediately. 
It made me feel soooo good, I kept smoking every chance I got.
Pretty soon, I couldn't even stop for a day. So don't ever 
start, because it is really a bad habit, expecially when you 
have to hide it from everyone."

     "You don't have to hide it from me," I replied dreamily. 
"I think it really looks cool, and I can tell you really like 
it. Is it really that good?" "It sure is," she replied. "I 
guess I am glad I started," she reflected, "but I still know 
it is bad for me. Sometimes though, I think that just makes me 
want to smoke more." 

    "Do any of your friends smoke?" I asked. "Well, I got my 
friend Donna to try inhaling, and I think she is probably 
addicted now, too," she replied. "We used to sneak into the 
woods after school and smoke. Now that we are in junior high,
we also smoke in the bathroom at school. I'm really scared to 
get caught, though. But it is still really fun, and it really 
makes me feel calm and relaxed. I can't believe how many of 
the girls in junior high smoke now. It just seems like the cool 
thing to do. My boyfriend used to tease me about it at first, 
but I think he really noticed me because of my smoking. I couldn't 
resist teaching him how to smoke, too, and I am the one who
teases him now by holding out on him when he is really desparate
for a cigarette. I make him earn his cigarette by kissing me all
over, and when he tastes the cigarettes on my breath, that makes
him want one all the more!"

     "You really ought to try it sometime," she added impishly. 
"After all, I've smoked since I was you age, and never regretted 
it a bit. In fact, I've loved every minute of it. I just wished 
someone would have introduced me to cigarettes sooner." She 
graphically illustrated her pleasure by taking another cheek-
hollowing pull on the slim menthol cigarette, and again I heard 
a pronounced "haaa" sound as she inhaled. She then thrilled me 
again by producing a steady stream of perfectly formed little 
smoke rings. This was the first time I had ever seen anyone do 
that, either, and I was fascinated by the provocative pucker of
her lips as she squeezed out those thick ringlets of smoke.

     I was dizzy with desire at this point, and asked "Are you
serious? Do you really think I should try smoking? I don't want 
to get in trouble." She said, "Well, it sure is good, and I 
would hate to see you miss out. I really think it is cool to 
see a guy smoke, and I could teach you how to do it right. You 
would definitely be the coolest kid around," she said seductively. 
I had never seen this "bad girl" side of Ellen before, and 
it was, indeed, extremely seductive. I was practically panting.

     I gulped, and finally managed to reply, "OK, I guess it 
wouldn't hurt to try it just once." She laughed, and said 
"I promise you it won't be just once. But I also promise you, 
you will _really_ love it. I know I do. Come closer, and let 
me show you what you've been missing," Ellen said as she reached 
into her purse for her Virginia Slims.

     I slid over close to her on the chair, and she gently stroked
my thigh as she lit up a cigarette and dragged deeply, once again 
exhaling through her nose. I thought that was the coolest thing I 
had ever seen, this very young girl smoking like she had been doing 
it forever. "OK, here's how you smoke," she said as she regarded 
the long, slim cigarette smoldering between her long slender 
fingers. "The key is to inhale. That's what makes it feel soooooo
goooood," she purred. "You just suck in some smoke, take the 
cigarette out, but don't blow the smoke out yet. You hold it your 
mouth, then breathe it down into your lungs. You won't believe 
how good it makes you feel." Then she took a long drag and 
exaggerated the motions so that I could see the steps involved.

     "OK, I'm going to help you out at first, but you will get 
the hang of it real quickly, I guarantee it!" she said, as she 
held the cigarette up to my trembling lips. As she pushed the 
filter between my lips, she said, "Go for it, big boy." I 
puffed a little, but didn't quite grasp the inhaling concept right 
away. "C'mon, you can do it," Ellen purred, and put her arm 
around my shoulders for encouragement. My body was flooded 
with feelings from every quadrant, and I hadn't even inhaled yet! 
I tried again, and as Ellen held the cigarette, she said, "Remember, 
hold the smoke in your mouth for a second, then when you open your 
mouth, breathe it in, down into your lungs." I managed to inhale 
some this time, but I didn't taste or feel much, because it was 
such a small amount.

     Still, I was fascinated. Ellen was very encouraging. 
"You're getting the hang of it now," she said, "Try it again! 
I want to see how much smoke you can take in." So I sucked a 
lot harder, and managed to inhale again. I felt the coolest 
tickling, burning in my throat and chest, and as I exhaled, I
actually saw some smoke come out. I also noticed the menthol 
taste for the first time. "So how was that?" she asked coyly. 
"I've never felt anything like it." I replied. "It really tickles 
in my throat, and I'm starting to get kinda dizzy. It really 
feels good."

     "I knew you'd like it. Why don't you smoke that one, and I 
will light one up for me, and we can smoke together." As I 
continued smoking, I felt better and better. I couldn't believe
I was sitting here smoking with this gorgeous girl. It felt so
intimate, somehow, like we were now going steady. "You will sure 
thank me for this one day, I promise," Ellen said. "You'll love it 
till the day you die. I know I will." As I smoked several more 
cigarettes that night, I began to feel that she was definitely right. 
I also knew that I wanted my parents to go out at night as much 
as possible from now on! 

     As my parents drove up, Ellen said with a wink "Next time I'll
teach you how to blow smoke rings! I bet you'll want to smoke pretty
badly by then. But just to tide you over, you can have the rest of 
these." She handed me the pack, which was close to half full. "I'll
just pinch some more from my mom's stash," she grinned. "She smokes 
so heavily that she doesn't notice when I take a pack now and then."
I felt really close to Ellen after that night, and I hoped that I 
would one day be able to pass along this gift to someone else, 
as Ellen had done for me. I started thinking that if I ever got a
girlfriend, how great it would feel to teach her how to smoke, too.
Little did I know that some day I would do just that!