First in the Class, Part 4

    This fictional account contains adult language and explicitly sexual
themes. If such language and themes offend you, please do not read further.
Copyright 1998 by SSTORYMAN. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to
reproduce this story in any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is
reproduced and no financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly,
by the person reproducing it.

    FIRST IN THE CLASS

    4. Developing the Habit.

    The next Saturday Emily moved in. The two roommates quickly developed a
comfortable routine. They kept their sexual relationship secret. Both were
uncomfortable being branded lesbians, or even bi-sexual. But their mutual
pleasure continued unabated. Vicki's bed was larger than the one in Emily's
room. It was queen-size. They liked sleeping together, and soon agreed Emily
would sleep in Vicki's room at night. Continuing their experimentation, they
learned how to give each other ever more pleasure. Early passionate exchanges
evolved into a more measured ability to pleasure themselves with confidence.
It grew into a satisfying sexual relationship.

    Now Emily saw firsthand what a heavy smoker her roommate was! Vicki smoked
constantly in the house. Emily became accustomed to a permanent aroma of
tobacco smoke saturating the air. Surprisingly, it never bothered her. She
occasionally joined Vicki and smoked with her, though not as often as Vicki
suggested. Emily was determined to be only a social smoker. But living with
Vicki, she soon smoked two or three cigarettes each evening. She never carried
cigarettes with her, but she grew to enjoy nicotine for its own sake, not only
as something to share with Vicki. She was satisfied with her minimal intake,
and didn't intend to increase it.

    The study group kidded Emily mercilessly about being social smoker. At
first, Emily smoked no more than twice during group meetings. Everyone else
smoked eight to ten cigarettes in the three hour sessions. Emily's two
cigarettes, added to the one she regularly shared with Vicki in bed at night,
completed her three a day allocation.

    After smoking for a month, however, her consumption jumped to three
cigarettes per meeting. She never quite figured out how it happened. One
evening, studying for the probate class, the group frustration level reached
an unusually high level. The intensity was palpable as they tried to master
the difficult concepts. Everyone else chain-smoked to handle the stress. Emily
joined in for one added cigarette. Thereafter, three cigarettes were her
routine. Some stressful nights she even smoked four. But it didn't seem
significant. After all, everyone else smoked much more. On study group days,
Emily's total intake often reached five cigarettes.

    Emily never smoked anywhere else. She lacked the cravings that made her
cohorts take advantage of every opportunity to impart nicotine into their
systems. She wasn't comfortable smoking in public. On Tuesdays and Thursdays,
she didn't smoke at class. She didn't smoke 'til she and Vicki got home. On
those days, she smoked twice. Vicki liked having a cigarette with Emily over
coffee as they post-mortemed the class. The second cigarette was simply part
of the regular bedtime ritual.

    It was an unusual night when the two roommates didn't pleasure each other.
Vicki enjoyed the sex more if Emily smoked, too. When they really went at it,
Emily had two or three cigarettes during the petting, kissing and fucking.

    Emily smoked an occasional cigarette at other times when Vicki asked.
Vicki loved to see Emily smoke, and Emily liked pleasing her lover. Unlike
Vicki, she controlled her minimal habit. Vicki smoked two packs a day on
weekends. Emily didn't mind. In fact, she was glad Vicki could reward herself
by smoking. The pleasure smoking gave her blond roommate was evident. Emily
wanted Vicki to feel good, and she never discouraged her from smoking. But in
the beginning Emily never felt the need to increase her own consumption.

    That changed one fateful weekend. Emily's mother asked her to go to a
family wedding out of town. Her cousin, Suzanne Hart, was getting married.
Suzanne's mother was Dana's sister. Suzanne was Emily's age. Emily knew she
should go. After work on Friday, she drove with Dana for three hours to her
aunt and uncle's home in the next state.

    The wedding occasioned a large family reunion. Emily's mother had four
sisters, and nine cousins made up her mother's family. Suzanne's parents were
loaded. They had money to burn, and they did it up right. They hosted a lavish
Saturday brunch for out of town relatives. Emily enjoyed seeing her relatives
for the first time in several years. Old acquaintances were renewed,
particularly among cousins, all of whom were roughly the same age. They hadn't
been together since Emily was in high school.

    Despite the festivities, Emily became increasingly grouchy as the day wore
on. She was a bit edgy Saturday morning, and by afternoon she was completely
and unreasonably irritable. She was mad at herself for acting like a bitch,
but couldn't control her reactions. She flew off the handle when one cousin
casually asked why she wanted a paralegal certificate. She swore at another
who asked if she was dating anyone. And she exploded at her aunt when asked
how she found time for anything except studying. Her emotions seemed to have a
hair trigger.

    The wedding was at seven o'clock. By the time the reception began, Emily
was a basket case. She had a problem, but didn't know what to do about it or
why. She tried drinking some wine. It made her mellow, but it didn't help the
irritability.

    Wine glass in hand, she aimlessly wandered outside the back entrance of
the extravagant country club housing the reception. She felt restless and
jumpy. Walking didn't help, but sitting was impossible once dinner was over.
She couldn't stand to listen to her aunts and uncles drone on and on about
irrelevancies. She wasn't looking for anything in particular as she went
outside, but she needed to get away. What she found out there surprised her.

    In the twilight was the maid of honor, her cousin Christina, Suzanne's
younger sister. Christina was talking with Melanie, another of the many female
cousins. Christina was a tall strawberry blond with a pretty face and a figure
that stopped traffic. Dressed in a long turquoise gown, she was dazzling. But
what caught Emily's attention was the long white cigarette between Christina's
fingers. Christina was smoking!

    As far as Emily knew, no one in her mother's extended family smoked. Her
mom was typical of the entire family. They'd always been against smoking. It
wasn't done. Accordingly, Emily never mentioned her social habit to her
mother. The negative response would have been immediate and automatic.
Christina's mother was the same way. Yet here was Christina, only 20 years
old, blatantly smoking in public!

    Amazed, Emily walked over. To her surprise, Melanie, too, was smoking. The
shock of seeing them smoke, when she'd known both since childhood, was
considerable. But even more substantial, and more surprising, was Emily's
reaction.

    As soon as she came within a few feet of the smokers, their ambient smoke
drifted into her nostrils. The scent was heavenly! Instinctively, she knew the
true cause of her edginess, her irritability, and her restlessness. She wanted
a cigarette!

    "Hi, Emily," greeted Christina. Either she didn't notice the look of
anguish on Emily's freckled face, or she simply ignored it. "What's up?"

    "Nothing," stammered Emily. She was speechless. It was dumb, but she
didn't know what to say. "How are you guys?"

    "We're great," Melanie answered enthusiastically. "God, what a beautiful
wedding! And you, Christina, honey, you looked absolutely fabulous!" Christina
blushed in response.

    Melanie looked good herself. She put her cigarette in her mouth and
wrapped her pretty painted lips around the white filter. Melanie was 21, a
year older than Christina. She was a tall, thin brunette, and a lifelong
runner. But she was smoking! The color of the glowing cigarette in her mouth
complemented the stunning orange gown draped over her lovely shoulders. "We
just sneaked out for a little nicotine break," she explained in a
conspiratorial whisper while inhaling the smoke. "The 'rents won't let anyone
smoke inside." She giggled and released a long stream of smoke into the night
air.

    The smoke smelled wonderful. Emily moved into the path of Melanie's
exhale. She knew what was wrong with her. She knew what she wanted. But she
was terrified to tell her cousins. She just stood and stared.

    "Are you okay?" Christina finally asked. She tapped some ashes on the
ground. "I hope smoking doesn't bother you. We just couldn't wait. Had to have
one. Nasty habit, you know."

    "Yeah, I know," Emily said slowly. "It doesn't bother me. My roommate
smokes. How long have you guys been smoking? What did your folks say?"

    Christina grinned. "I started two years ago. You know how it is. Well,
maybe you don't. Some of my friends at college smoked. I picked up the habit
hanging out with my girlfriends. I was hooked before I knew what hit me. When
Mom found out, she freaked. She and Dad lectured me, they threatened me, and
they tried everything to talk me into quitting. As if," she giggled, with a
wink at Melanie. "They hate it, but what could they do? Eventually they
accepted it, though they won't let me smoke in the house. How about you,
Melanie?"

    "My folks reacted the same way," Melanie agreed. "It was like a personal
insult that I was a smoker. My dad offered me $500 if I'd quit. I said no way.
I enjoy it too much to stop!"

    Emily looked around. No one else from the wedding was nearby. She wanted a
cigarette! The smell was enticing, intoxicating. She'd never experienced the
desire for a smoke that now overwhelmed her! Impulsively, she decided to take
the plunge.

    "Actually, I smoke a little bit myself," she said offhandedly, trying to
sound completely casual. "It's because my roommate smokes, you know. I was
wondering if ...."

    Before she finished, Melanie interrupted. "No problem," Melanie said with
a smile. She opened her purse and withdrew a pack of Virginia Slims Lights
100's. "Be my guest."

    She hesitated. "I don't know," she said hesitantly. "I mean, I'd like to,
but my mom would ...."

    "Tell Aunt Dana to go to hell," Christina urged. "You look stressed, girl.
You could use one. Go ahead. Give in!"

    Seeing Emily hesitate, Melanie smiled. "We'll go to the other side of the
building," she suggested. "No one will see you there. We can smoke in peace."
She led the other two through the dusk around the corner. Now they were
completely out of sight.

    "Thanks, you guys," Emily said nervously. "I really would like a
cigarette!" She took one of Melanie's. It was thinner than the ones she and
Vicki smoked, but she didn't care. It was a cigarette, and it was between her
lips, awaiting the flame from Melanie's lighter.

    When Melanie lit her up, Emily felt the full, rich, tobacco taste of the
smoke fill her hungry mouth. It was wonderful. This was a revelatory
experience. Yes! This was what she'd wanted! She just hadn't realized it. She
took a prolonged initial drag and inhaled deeply. "God, thanks," she sighed,
holding the smoke inside. "This is great!"

    "It's the pause that refreshes," giggled Christina. She slowly drew on her
own shrinking cigarette. "I know how you feel," she added, after inhaling her
smoke. "I went crazy last night at the rehearsal dinner. Then today, during
the wedding, God, I was so stressed I thought I'd bite someone's head off if I
couldn't have a cigarette!" She paused to exhale. "In fact, I think I'll have
another one." She dropped her cigarette to the ground, pulled a box of
Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's from her purse, and lit up again.

    Emily felt herself returning to normal. The edginess disappeared, and the
tension dissipated. Now she felt ... good again. Did this mean she was hooked
on cigarettes?

    Melanie watched Emily with interest. "You look better," she observed. "You
were pretty pasty when you came outside." She too lit up a second cigarette.
"I bet you feel better, too."

    "I do," Emily admitted reluctantly. She took another leisurely drag. "I
didn't think I was hooked. I only smoke with my roommate, just a few a day.
But this feels really good to me."

    "That's how it happens," Christina smiled. "You think you're different.
You think you're invincible. You figure it will never happen to you. But it
does. Nicotine gets to you, without fail and without mercy. Bang, you're a
smoker!" The statement was not threatening, but merely a declaration of
indisputable fact.

    "Maybe you're right," Emily agreed, somewhat unwillingly. She exhaled
another stream of smoke into the twilight. She liked seeing smoke escape from
her pursed lips. The smokers' exhales hung in the still evening air over their
heads. The setting sun caused the haze to sparkle. Emily smoked fervently. She
took more twice as many drags as usual. One by one, all three girls dropped
their cigarettes on the ground and crushed them under foot.

    "Let's go back inside," Christina announced. "I'm ready to be sociable
again. How about you two?"

    "Yeah, me, too," Emily smiled. She _did_ feel much better. Her earlier
discomfort had been replaced by a deep calm. "You won't tell anyone, will
you?" she said fearfully.

    "Not a soul," Melanie grinned. "But from the look of things you'll have to
come out of the closet soon enough. When there's something you can't control,
like smoking, you can't hide it forever! Don't worry. Aunt Dana will get over
it!"

    The rest of the evening proved uneventful. Emily enjoyed talking to her
relatives and other guests. She was relaxed and in control again. She saw
Christina and Melanie leave the building an hour or so later for another
cigarette. Emily didn't join them. She felt okay. But Melanie's remark haunted
her. Would it become harder to keep this secret from her mother? Was she out
of control? She didn't know. That night she laid in bed at the hotel and
thought about what had happened. Things had changed. Melanie and Christina
were right. She didn't just want to smoke anymore. In some strange way, she
needed to. Not like Christina or Melanie, and certainly not like Vicki. But
she needed it. The realization scared and excited her.

    On Sunday the family (minus the bride and groom) shared breakfast at the
same country club. Emily felt the familiar edginess of the day before. The
entire affair was non-smoking. This time, however, no opportunity arose to
escape with Christina or Melanie. Whatever their smoking needs, the other
girls had satisfied them before joining the brunch.

    Emily was not so fortunate. Tension increased as the morning wore on. She
told herself she could control it. She did a pretty good job. She socialized
and enjoyed herself. But she felt a strange discomfort underneath. It didn't
go away, and increased in intensity over time.

    She finally suggested to Dana they head home. "I've got lots of studying
to do, Mom," she whispered. "Can't we go?"

    "In a little while," Dana replied impatiently. She enjoyed seeing her
sisters and their children. She was not happy about cutting short the visit.

    At two o'clock Dana finally relented. She and Emily said goodbye and
headed out. The drive home was uncomfortable. Emily was irritable. She reacted
badly when Dana tried discussing the wedding. Eventually, Dana gave up and
turned on the radio. Without talking further they made the three hour trip
home.

    "I hope you're happy," Dana said dryly as she dropped Emily off. "Your
damn studying is more important than spending time with your family!"

    "Get off it, Mom," Emily snapped. "Before we left I told you I had to get
back on Sunday. I haven't studied all weekend. It's five o'clock and I haven't
cracked a book. I have to work hard to get good grades, you know. Don't give
me that family shit!"

    "Emily Miller," her mother replied. "Don't use that language with me! I'm
your mother, for God's sake. Get off your high horse and show a little
respect. What's wrong with you?"

    Emily took a deep breath. "I don't know, Mom," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm
just stressed about the exam coming up this week. That's all."

    Dana forced a smile. "I know you want to do well," she said in a
conciliatory manner. "Just try to keep perspective. There are some things more
important than studying, you know."

    "I know, Mom," Emily smiled in return.

    As Dana drove off, Emily knew one thing that was much more important. She
was now about to participate in it. It wouldn't wait any longer!

    Fumbling with her keys, she frantically opened the front door. The
powerful fragrance of fresh cigarette smoke assaulted her senses when she
pushed the door closed. It smelled divine!

    Vicki sat at the kitchen table in a tee shirt and shorts. Her streaked
blond hair hung over her shoulders. In the ashtray was a burning cigarette.
Vicki looked up at Emily's tall, lanky figure with an expectant smile on her
face.

    "Hey, pretty babe," she sighed suggestively. "I missed your sorry little
ass this weekend. Come here and give me a little kiss. No, scratch that! Come
give me a big, wet kiss!"

    The two of them usually kissed and embraced upon arriving home.
Anticipating it, Vicki stood up. But Emily wanted something else. With no
explanation, she ignored Vicki and instead grabbed the cigarette from the
ashtray, hastily putting it in her mouth.

    Amazed and amused, Vicki watched Emily take a long, drawn-out, extended
drag. Unsatisfied by her initial hit, Emily double-pumped, abruptly sucking a
second mouthful of smoke into her frantic lungs. After holding it inside for
several seconds, she pursed her lips and reluctantly exhaled a tight stream
into the air. "Oh, God," she moaned involuntarily. "That's good!" She followed
with a third consecutive drag, drawing into her lungs as much smoke as her
expanded chest could retain.

    Vicki giggled. "Did you miss me, or was it just my cigarettes?" she
kidded. She put her hands on Emily's breasts and began to softly squeeze them.
"God, Em, I've never seen you like this," she purred. "You look so ... I don't
know ... so addicted. You look like someone who's having a major nicotine fit!
You know how I am. It makes me want to have you right now!"

    Emily turned and offered a lusty grin. "You're the bitch who taught me to
do this," she proclaimed, in mock distress. "So don't get in my fuckin' way! I
need a cigarette!"

    By now the ragged edge of her prior discomfort had been effectively
broken. The initial delivery of nicotine into her bloodstream reduced her
distress. She was glad to see Vicki. She too had missed their intimacy over
the last two days. But she wanted more smoke! "We need to talk about what's
happening to me," she added, taking one last puff before inhaling and setting
the cigarette back in the ashtray. "But I do want something else, too." She
placed her lips on Vicki's mouth and kissed hard as her hand rested on Vicki's
crotch. Smoke passed between them and Emily rubbed Vicki through her shorts.
The combination of smoke and sexual stimulation excited Vicki even more. She
put her arms around the tall redhead and pulled her close.

    Without interrupting the embrace, the women stumbled into Vicki's bedroom.
The cigarette burned itself out in the ashtray while Vicki pushed Emily onto
the bed. Unadulterated lust shone through both pairs of female eyes. It was a
sweet reunion!

    An hour later, Emily and Vicki sat at the kitchen table. Both girls looked
and felt exhausted. All makeup had completely worn off in the lovemaking. Both
heads of hair were totally unkempt. Vicki wore only her over-sized tee shirt,
with no bra underneath and no pants. Emily was also disrobed, clad only in bra
and panties.

    "So, what happened?" Vicki asked. She reached for her cigarettes. "Here,
have one with me," she urged. "It delights me to say this. You look like you
need another cigarette!" She lit one for herself and passed the pack to Emily,
who removed one of her own.

    "I don't know what happened," Emily admitted. She suspended further
comment while she lit up. "On Saturday morning, I felt edgy," she began,
letting the cigarette dangle from her mouth while she talked. "By the
afternoon, I was a complete bitch. I yelled at people for no reason. By
Saturday night, during the reception, I was hell on wheels. I was beside
myself and didn't know why. Until," she said, finally taking a long drag and
inhaling," until I ran into two of my cousins smoking outside." She paused to
exhale. "Then I knew."

    "I warned you, didn't I?" Vicki smiled as she saw smoke trickling from the
pert nose of her redheaded, tall, lanky roommate. "I warned you that people
get hooked on these things."

    "Yes," Emily admitted. "You did. But why did I get so crazy? I don't smoke
that much."

    "The number of cigarettes isn't important," Vicki smiled contentedly.
"It's the frequency that counts. Look, you've been smoking more the last few
weeks. Maybe you haven't noticed, but Wednesday during study group, for
example, I'll bet you smoked six cigarettes. On Thursday night, during the
session in bed before you went away for the weekend, you had three or four
cigarettes. Then on Friday, you went cold turkey. Your body missed its
nicotine. It was just letting you know."

    "I thought you couldn't get hooked unless you smoked more," Emily
objected.

    "I never said that," Vicki smiled smugly. "When your body is accustomed to
a certain level of nicotine, it wants to keep that level undisturbed. Look at
it this way. Starting smoking is a lot like buying a puppy. If you feed your
little puppy and take care of her, she behaves herself and remains a good
companion. She gives you lots of pleasure. But if you forget to feed her, she
lets you know she's unhappy. She whines, she scratches, she gets your
attention. She lets you know she's pissed. This weekend, you didn't take care
of your puppy. She got royally pissed. You saw the consequences. She made sure
she got fed, didn't she?"

    Emily smiled. She tipped her head and released a stream of smoke. "She
sure as hell did! She made my life miserable. What are you saying, Vicki?"

    "I'm saying, don't piss off your puppy, or she'll bite you in the ass,"
she laughed. "If I were you, I'd do two things. First, tonight smoke all the
cigarettes you skipped this weekend to make up for the nicotine you missed.
Second, space out your smoking a little more. You only smoke at night. That'll
make you edgy during the day. Try smoking one cigarette every morning before
work. Have another at dinner time each day. Smoke at least one more before bed
each evening. If feed your habit more regularly, it'll behave itself."

    Emily frowned. "I could do that," she agreed.

    "One more thing," Vicki smiled. "Remember that your habit is like a puppy
right now. But if you keep feeding her, she'll grow. All dogs do, and your
smoking habit will, too. If you don't want her to grow into a big dog with a
big bite, stop feeding her right now. Because if you keep smoking, eventually
your sweet, little puppy will grow up. The bigger she gets, the hungrier she
gets. Eventually she'll want to be fed all the fuckin' time." She smiled wryly
as she took an extended drag on her Marlboro. "My habit started out like
yours. Now she always wants to be fed. Of course, I love feeding her. Feeding
her makes me feel good. But I can't ignore her. When I do, she becomes a
bitch. Remember that!"

    "I don't want to quit," Emily announced firmly. "I like to smoke." She
paused. "The care and feeding of a smoking habit," she smiled. "What a
concept! But I can't imagine my dog will grow to be as big as that mutt of
yours!"

    "You'd be surprised, Emily," Vicki smiled knowingly. "You'd be surprised."

    Having missed Saturday's study group, Emily studied all evening. Vicki
gave a summary of the group's discussion, but Emily still felt under-prepared
for class. Anxiety made it easier to light up cigarettes and smoke, as Vicki
suggested. By the time she hit the bed Sunday night, she was satiated. She
didn't feel bad, however. She decided she liked smoking while she studied.

    The next morning, Emily smoked another cigarette. She found it pleasant to
smoke a cigarette with her coffee. That morning at work, she felt good. She
went to lunch with Jenny Clark, a new girl in the accounting department. She
was a cute brunette in her mid twenties. They'd become friends during the two
weeks Jenny'd been with the bank.

    As they entered the restaurant, Jenny asked if they could sit in the
smoking section. Emily was surprised. For some reason, she never pictured
Jenny as a smoker. Jenny was so conservative and so down to earth. Emily
realized she still thought of smokers as unusual or somehow different from
'normal' people. She decided such prejudice was unfounded. Jenny was as normal
as they come. And, Emily recognized, she was, too.

    When they sat down, Jenny pulled out a box of Marlboro Reds and lit up.
The thick, rich smoke from Jenny's cigarette floated over the table. It
smelled good! Within moments, she knew she had to ask Jenny for one. She'd
never mentioned her smoking to anyone at work, but she wanted one now. There
was no reason not to. Vicki said to take good care of her habit and feed it
regularly. It was important to keep it under control.

    She looked across the table. "Hey, Jenny, could I have one of those?"

    Jenny's face brightened. "A cigarette? Sure!" she said happily. "God, this
is great! I didn't know you smoked!" She pushed her box of Marlboro Reds and
lighter across the table.

    "Yeah, I do smoke some," Emily said with a shy smile. She removed one of
the short, cork-tipped cigarettes from Jenny's box. "I don't smoke at work,"
she explained as she put the cigarette between her lips. "But yours just
smells to good to resist!"

    She eagerly lit up and took an extended initial drag on the cigarette. The
Reds were stronger than her Marlboro Lights 100's. She felt an unexpected head
rush from the cigarette's higher nicotine content. It felt good! She smiled.

    "God, these are strong," she sighed, exhaling a cloud of smoke in the air.
The exhaled smoke was denser and more concentrated. "They're good. I smoke
lights," she explained.

    "I love these," Jenny smiled. "I used to smoke Marlboro Lights, but
switched to Reds because they're stronger. When I need a nicotine kick, these
babies give it!" She took a drag of her own. "I know they're bad for you. But
I love 'em."

    Emily took another puff. The smoke was thick, rich and satisfying. She
held it inside, and a feeling of well-being overtook her. She tipped her head
and released a second exhale from pursed lips. "I could get used to these,"
she smiled, feeling a bit guilty as she experienced the pleasure of the
stronger cigarette. "But why do you smoke the short ones?"

    "I dunno," Jenny smiled. "I smoked lights in high school 'cause my
boyfriend smoked 'em. I switched to Reds last year. My new boyfriend smokes
these. I've never tried 100's. That's what you smoke?"

    "Yeah," Emily admitted. She looked at the shrinking cigarette. "I like the
100's because they last longer," she added, trying to sound like an
experienced connoisseur.

    "I've never thought of that," Jenny mused. "One advantage of the short
ones, though, is you can smoke a cigarette fast, like, when you don't have
much time. Marlboro makes a full flavor 100. Maybe I'll try 'em sometime."

    "You should," Emily giggled. She looked at the full flavor Marlboro
between her fingers. "God, these really hit the spot, don't they?"

    After eating, she joined Jenny for a second cigarette. Sharing didn't
bother Jenny. She was happy to share with her new friend. She encouraged Emily
to join her for the afternoon break, and bum another at that time. "A bunch of
girls smoke together outside on our breaks," she announced. "I'd love for you
to join us."

    Emily was busy that afternoon and decided not to join them. But she was
pleased to be invited. By four o'clock, she felt that now familiar edginess.
She knew what it meant. Her body was asking for another cigarette. But she'd
missed her opportunity. The girls took their break at three thirty. She buried
herself in her work for the rest of the day.

    By the time she got in the car to drive home, her edginess had deepened.
She tried to ignore it. Before going home, she stopped at school to check the
paralegal bulletin board. Grades were up for the last exam. Exam scores were
routinely posted by student ID number. In theory, each was anonymous. In fact,
many knew their friend's numbers. Emily smiled when saw her grade on the
probate exam. It was 90%. She counted the students above and below her score.
She finished in the top third, her best ever! She looked for Vicki. She was in
her usual spot, the top three. Vicki did better, but that didn't matter. This
was Emily's best grade!

    Upon arriving home, her edginess was worse. It was unmistakable. She
wasn't frantic, but she wanted a cigarette. Her mouth watered thinking about
it. She retrieved a pack of Marlboro Lights 100's as soon as she entered the
house, and lit up. A wave of relaxation swept over her. Her little dog wanted
to be fed, she told herself. She was becoming more and more insistent, wasn't
she? In fact, as she took a long drag and inhaled, Emily recognized she didn't
just want a cigarette. She _needed_ one!

    Surprisingly, the realization didn't trouble her. Instead, she relished
the experience of smoking to satisfy the new, not-so-subtle craving. At thirty
second intervals she sucked the smoke into her lungs and expelled it. This was
a wonderful habit, she decided confidently. It felt so good, in fact, she
smoked a second cigarette before fixing her supper.

    As she smoked, Emily recorded her test score on a chart in her notebook.
She noticed an interesting pattern. On her first exam, she scored around the
middle of the class. But on each subsequent test, she scored slightly higher
than the one before. She was now in the top third. She remembered Vicki said
smoking made your brain work better. Was it possible that as her smoking
increased, her performance on exams did, too? She asked Vicki later that
night.

    "I don't know," she admitted. "It's possible. Or maybe you're just doing
better because you're getting great sex on a regular basis."

    "Shut up," Emily chided. "I'm serious. I'm improving with every test.
That's cool."

    "Sure it is," Vicki agreed. "Whatever you're doing, you're doing something
right!"

    Buoyed by this realization, that her upward performance trend matched her
increased tobacco use, Emily smoked more than usual. By bedtime, she felt
great. Increased nicotine levels in her bloodstream suited her. She fell
asleep quickly and contentedly.

    Next day was Tuesday. She smoked again with her morning coffee. The taste
was exquisite. With a wry smile, she dropped a pack of Marlboro Lights 100's
in her purse. Today she'd bring cigarettes to work and take Jenny up on the
offer to join the other smokers for breaks. She could smoke one cigarette
during the morning break and another on the afternoon break. She'd see if
Jenny could go to lunch again, too. Emily usually skipped lunch. However, the
idea of going with the other smokers was intriguing.

    Emily smiled. "The other smokers," she repeated as she pulled into
traffic. "Not the smokers. It's the _other_ smokers now." She looked at the
pack of cigarettes in the side pocket of her purse. "I guess this means I'm
one of them." That thought pleased her.

    Things went according to plan. During morning break, Emily discovered a
whole new world. Five or six girls from her department took breaks together,
using the fifteen minutes to escape the office and smoke a couple cigarettes
outside. Emily smoked one with them in the morning and another in the
afternoon. She also learned Jenny usually went to lunch at a deli with a
smoking section. Emily joined Jenny and two others, all of whom smoked. The
other smokers, she reminded herself.

    By the time she left work, she was happy. She'd entered a new circle of
friends. The 'other smokers' were nice. They seemed less critical of others,
willing to accept people the way they were, without sermonizing or posturing.
Jenny and her friends were great. Emily knew they'd quickly become her
friends, too.

    As she pulled out of the parking garage she looked at her watch. It was a
quarter after five. She had to be at school by six. Class started at six
sharp. She'd had a cigarette at 3:30 with the other smokers. But she felt
uneasy about waiting until after class for another one. "My God," she
realized. "That'll be four hours." The realization made her nervous, almost
scared. The longing for another cigarette was already nagging her.

    Emily usually didn't eat before class, but tonight she considered stopping
at a restaurant. She realized it was stupid. She didn't want to eat. She
wanted a cigarette! The craving was slight, almost indiscernible, but it was
there. "Shit," she said aloud. She made a decision. Why deny herself the
pleasure she desired?

    Then it hit her. God, she was dumb! She could smoke in her car! No one had
ever smoked in her ancient Geo Storm. It had over 100,000 miles and originally
was her mom's. That meant it had never been smoked in. She perused the
dashboard. She'd never noticed, but there _was_ an ashtray and cigarette
lighter. A wicked smile crept over her face. She'd do it!

    She pulled off the road into a parking space. She didn't want to be
distracted. After all, she'd be lighting up in her car for the first time.
Opening the ashtray, she removed gum wrappers and rubber bands. She got her
cigarettes from her purse and put one in her mouth. Anticipation welled up as
she clicked her lighter. Sucking on the burning cigarette, she felt the warm,
aromatic tobacco smoke fill her mouth. God, she loved smoking! She inhaled.
Her lips formed a satisfied smile as nicotine worked its customary magic. She
pursed her lips and with contentment released a cloud of smoke.

    She'd crossed a critical threshold. At that moment, she didn't need to
smoke. But she wanted to. That desperate, frantic feeling from the weekend
wasn't present. It didn't matter. From now on, desperation wouldn't be the
trigger. The decision to smoke would henceforth be based solely on whether
another cigarette would bring pleasure. The dramatic relief she felt, smoking
in her car, reinforced this conviction. She'd smoke more often from now on,
even if she didn't have to. It simply felt too good! She took a prolonged drag
and inhaled. She permitted the smoke to slowly escape from her nostrils. Yes,
she really was a smoker now. She knew it!

    The car filled with smoke. She knew Vicki cracked her driver's window
whenever she smoked in her car. Emily rolled down the window several inches,
letting the ambient smoke drift out. She tapped some ashes in the ashtray and
smiled. This definitely would not be the last time she'd smoke in here!

    At five until six she slipped into class. As always, she sat beside Vicki.
No one noticed, but when she seated herself Emily brushed her ass against
Vicki's torso. It was a way to communicate her pleasure in seeing her lover
and friend.

    "How ya doin'?" Vicki greeted. As always, her streaked blond hair looked
good. "Did you have a good day?"

    "Yeah, I had a fuckin' fabulous day," Emily grinned. "I'll tell you 'bout
it later."

    "God, you smell like smoke!" Vicki giggled. "Did you take my advice? Have
you been smoking more today?"

    "Yes, I have," Emily beamed. "I smoked three cigarettes in my car after
work."

    "No shit?" Vicki whispered her reply. Her smile proclaimed approval. "God,
I'm damn proud of you!"

    "There's more," Emily teased as the instructor began the lecture. "I'll
tell you later."

    At seven thirty, it was time for the break. As usual, Vicki, Tisha, Steve
and Amy adjourned to the usual post outside the back door. They always smoked
together. Six to eight other students also clustered outside in small groups,
most of them also smoking.

    Emily carried her purse over her shoulder. Without comment, she reached in
and got her cigarettes. "Got a light?" she asked Tisha, as she held a
cigarette to her lips.

    "Holy shit," Tisha exclaimed with a surprised grin. "Emily Miller! This is
new! When did you decide to come out of the closet?"

    Emily reached forward and caught the light Tisha offered. "Today," she
announced proudly. "From now on, I'm a smoker, just like the rest of you."

    "Jesus Christ! What led to this important decision?" Amy inquired. She,
too, was thrilled. By now, all five of them were smoking, furiously
replenishing the nicotine in their systems.

    "It happened this weekend," Emily explained. "I didn't have a smoke after
I left town Friday afternoon. By Saturday night, I was a basket case. I needed
a cigarette, so I had one." She paused for an extended, long, drawn-out hit.
"I knew then I wanted to smoke more , so I'm now smoking in public. That's
it." She exhaled a cone of smoke into the light breeze.

    "God, welcome to the club," Tisha beamed. Her Salem was between her
fingers and her wrist cocked beside her face. "Be specific. How much are you
smoking?"

    Emily smiled. "As much as I damn well please," she bragged. "This is my
ninth cigarette today. And it's only ...." She looked at her watch. "It's
still only 7:35 in the evening."

    "Congrats," Tisha winked. "If you smoke out here so you're known to the
world as a smoker, you've officially graduated from being a pitiful social
smoker to being a full-fledged, real smoker. Just like the rest of us." She
sucked smoke from her Salem in her lungs. "Another 'non' bites the fuckin'
dust," she sighed with satisfaction. "Isn't it great?"

    During the break, Emily smoked two cigarettes, like the others. She felt
great during the rest of the class, better than usual. In particular, she was
better able to concentrate. She figured it was the nicotine. She mentioned the
idea to Vicki after they got home.

    "I told you," Vicki later gloated over coffee. "I concentrate much better
when I'm smoking. If they let us smoke in class, I'd be the damn
valedictorian!"

    "You're already one of the best in the class," she replied. "I'll never
reach your level. But my grades are improving. I'm excited about being able to
concentrate even better. It might be pure superstition, but I'm sure as hell
not going to quit smoking now!"

    "Is that the _only_ reason you want to keep smoking?" Vicki inquired with
a playful smile, batting her eyes. She was tantalizing her roommate.

    "No," she admitted. "Mostly I want to 'cause I feel good. In the last few
months, I've seen how much you like it, Vicki, how much you enjoy it. I'm
starting to understand. It's great!"

    Vicki leaned over to give her a kiss. "That makes me happy," she sighed
lovingly. "So, when are you going to tell your mother?"

    Emily paled. "God, I haven't thought about it. I don't know."

    "You'd better think, girl. At the rate you're going, you can't hide it
much longer."

Previous part | Next part