Rapid Transit

RAPID TRANSIT
by Jeff X

This is not only the true story of my first sexual encounter with a 
woman, it is the story of my rite of passage into manhood.  I was 19 
years old and it was my first adventure away from home.  I had gone 
away to college and I was seeking my identity.  

All of my life, I had identified as bisexual.  Most of my early dating 
experiences were with men slightly older than me.  I had always been 
attracted to rough, tough, butch men and I did my best to try to 
emulate them:  I wore a military-style crew-cut, Leviıs, leather 
boots, and maintained a well-tanned, attractive physique.  I never 
bought the old ³woman trapped in a manıs body² garbage.  Though I 
admired men, I very much wanted to be one myself.  I wanted to satisfy 
the lustful desires of a man, but I also wanted to be able to fully 
satisfy a woman as well.  Something was missing, however.  And I could 
never quite put my finger on it.

One day, as I was riding home on a bus, I met a young lady who I had 
probably seen once or twice on campus.  Her name was Carrie. She ran 
her fingers through my hair, which I had recently highlighted.  
³Whoever did your hair did an exquisite job,² she said, ³By the way, I 
used to be a hairdresser,² she continued.

³Thanks,² I said.  She then asked me what sign I was.  I told her I 
was a Capricorn.  She said ³Iıll bet youıre dating an Aquarius right 
now.²  She was right -- but how did she know?

³I do psychic readings as a hobby,² she said, ³And Iım willing to bet 
things arenıt going very well with him, are they?² Now I was 
thoroughly shocked.  Not only had she guessed the astrological sign of 
the guy I was dating at the time, she also somehow figured out that we 
were on the rocks.  

We talked for about twenty minutes about my relationship difficulties.  
The fact was, I was ready to hang it up with Mark, because deep down I 
yearned to be with a woman. She asked me if I minded if I get off the 
bus at her stop and follow her to her apartment.  I said no, and 
suddenly I felt my dick turn rock hard.

We went up to her apartment, and offered me a drink.  We sat and 
talked some more, and she asked me to tell her all my secret 
fantasies.  It became a game of secrets.  I would tell her a secret, 
and she would tell me one to top mine.  She moved into my lap and I 
began to play with her breasts.  I spread out my legs so that she 
could feel the  stone-hard bulge in my pants between her thighs. 

I had told her that my deepest longing was to be with a woman and 
finally become a man.  I told her I was a virgin.

³Do you smoke?² she asked.  

³No,²  I said, ³Actually, I hate smoking with a passion. I canıt stand 
walking through the student union and smelling everybodyıs nasty 
cigarette smoke. Itıs a filthy, disgusting habit!²

I could feel her whean away from my lap.

³Thatıs too bad,²  she said.  ³My deepest fantasy is to be fucked hard 
by a man with a Marlboro dangling from his lips and inhale his 
sensuous white smoke into my lungs.²

I had never heard of such a fetish before.  It was bizarre. Unreal.  
We kissed and called it an evening.  I walked home with a hard-on I 
just could not get rid of.

I stopped into a convenience store across the street from my 
apartment.  I felt a chill come over me as I stood in line and tried 
to inconspicuously look over the brands of cigarettes next to the 
register.  The man in line before me finished his sale and now it was 
my turn.  My head was spinning and my dick was throbbing.  I could 
feel my crotch and shorts wet with precum.

Quick! I thought. Am I gonna be Joe Camel or the Marlboro man?  I 
reached for a hard pack of Marlboro reds and laid them down on the 
counter for the cashier to ring up.  She looked at me with a puzzled 
expression. I had complained numerous times about her smoking in the 
store.

³Mr. Anti-Smoking Activist!² she said, ³When did this start?²

³Just now, ³ I said, ³And Iıll take a book of matches with that.²

She rang up the sale, and I walked out the door.

As I continued walking home, I nervously fumbled to open the 
cellophane wrapper.  Then I pulled out the foil seal, exposing twenty 
fresh Marlboro reds.  The smell wasnıt bad, but I never liked the 
smell once they were lit.

My hands trembling, I pulled one out. Then I put it to my lips. I 
could not believe I was going to go through with this. I took a deep 
breath and pulled out the matches. I struck the match and put it to 
the tip of the smoke.

On my first drag, I did not inhale. I just wanted to see what it 
tasted like. It wasnıt as bad as I thought it would be.  In fact, I 
kinda liked the smell now, too.  This whole thing was so bizarre.  I 
decided that on the second puff I would try to inhale.  I did, and I 
coughed miserably.  I threw the cigarette down and stamped it out.  
But my hard-on would not go away, though.

I went up to my apartment and practiced my lighting-up ritual in front 
of the mirror.  By now, I was inhaling without coughing and I realized 
that I really liked the way I looked with a cigarette. Finally, I was 
ready to try to deep-inhale.  The sensation was wicked.  I watched 
with awe as the thick, white Marlboro smoke streamed from my mouth.  
It was a sexual rush of orgasmic porportion.  I felt so macho, so 
butch, so ready to show that girl on the bus what a man is made of.  

In the next few days, I decided to come out of the smoking closet.  I 
carried my trusty  pack of reds in my shirt pocket, making sure to 
keep it visible.  I made sure I lit up and smoked in public places and 
when I wasnıt smoking, I proudly wore my smoke between my ear and 
temple.

One evening, I walked down to Carrieıs apartment.  She was surprised 
to see me, but I could tell she was a bit embarassed.  I gave her a 
kiss and handed her a boquet of red roses.

³I have to tell you something,²  she said. ³About the other night, Iım 
really embarassed.  I had a little too much to drink and Iım sure I 
said some things I sh...²

I cut her off and gave her another kiss.

³Itıs okay,²  I said, ³Iım just glad to see you again.²

I sat down on her sofa as she walked into the kitchen.  

³Can I get you anything?² she asked.

³Sure,² I said, ³How Œbout a beer?²

She brought me one and sat down next to me. She smiled at me, not 
quite knowing what to say.

After a momentary silence, I casually pulled out a smoke and put it in 
the corner of my mouth and smiled at her.  She smiled back, surprised, 
shocked, and amazed.

Then I pulled out my new Zippo lighter and fired it up.  I took a puff 
and slowly exhaled in her direction. Her head was enveloped in my 
cloud of smoke and I could see her inhale to draw it in.  Then she 
moved closer to me.  

It was magical.  Her lips met mine and then I slipped her the tongue.  
I was sure she could taste the lingering smoke in my mouth and I could 
feel her becoming ever more excited.

After several minutes of deep tongue kissing, I gently laid her down 
on the couch and began deep-inhaling.  With every magical puff, she 
opened wide and willingly as I exhaled the smoke into her mouth. Both 
of us were in sheer ecstacy.  It was a high I had never experienced 
before.  

I felt her reach for my throbbing manhood as I continued to smoke.  I 
removed my shirt so I could feel her soft, warm body against my bare 
skin.  I pulled her close to me and reached behind her blouse and 
fumbled for the zipper.  She stopped me.

³Are you sure you want to go through with this?² she asked.

³Iıve never been more sure about anything in my life, ³  I said, as I 
slowly unzipped her blouse. 

I pulled it down and searched for the clip on her bra.  After removing 
her bra, I began to gently caress her breasts.  Feeling every curve 
and contour, I finally decided to put my tongue to her nipple and wet 
her entire bosom between puffs off my cigarette.

³Have you ever eaten pussy before?² she asked.

³No,² I said, as I reached under her skirt and pulled down her 
panties.  I massaged the wet plumpness of her pussy, and spread her 
lips  before burying my face in her crotch.

I was in heaven.  I allowed my tongue to explore every crevase and 
opening in her soft, pink pussy.  I played with her sopping wet 
clitoris and savored the sweet taste.  I moved my tongue up through 
her pubic hair before moving back down again to taste the inside of 
her warm, wet pussy.  Then I moved down to eat the area between her 
pussy and her asshole.  I happily wet her asshole with my tongue. I 
moved back up and  took the last few puffs off my cigarette, blowing 
the smoke into her eager pussy hole.  

³Come on, big boy,² she said, ³Itıs time you became a man.²

She sat up and began to remove my clothes.  She studied my body as she 
removed my shirt.  Then she began to slowly unzip my pants.  

Both of us undressed completely and kissed for another several 
minutes.  She fondled my rock-hard dick as I put my fingers into her 
eagerly waiting pussy.

Then she laid back on the bed and naturally, I stood up.  I played 
with my buddy for a few seconds to turn her on before teasing her 
pussy with my hands.  Here was my big moment. I was about to fully 
become a man.

I reached down into my jacket and pulled out another cigarette and my 
Zippo.  This was what she wanted and this was what she was going to 
get.  There was no turning back now.  I was hooked -- both on smoking 
cigarettes and this bizarre, wicked fetish.

I put the Marlboro to my lips, cupped my hand over the lighter, and 
lit up.  The first few puffs, I lovingly blew toward her. Then I took 
hold of my cock and put it into her.  The sensation was almost as 
wicked as my first puff off of that cigarette a few nights before. 

I gave her my most virile, deep thrusts and continued to blow the 
smoke toward her.  She began to moan in ecstacy with every puff and 
thrust.  I fucked her so hard I thought the sofa was going to fall 
over.  My cock was so hard and hurt so bad I thought it was going to 
explode.

As I fucked her, I held my smoke next to her tits so that she could 
draw in the smoke from my cherry.

We came together and it was sheer heaven. My orgasm was as violent as 
Mt. St. Helen.  Hers was even more wild.  

After it was over, I decided to leave my clothes off and stay for 
awhile.  We sat on the couch and held each other.  It was a closeness 
I had never felt before with another human being in my life.  I 
reached for another smoke and lit up.  She sat back and smiled back at 
me, watching every puff I took off my after-sex cigarette.

That was the day I became complete.  Now I was a man.  A real man.  I 
could satisfy a woman like a man does, and I was proud of myself.  

I now happily smoke a pack and a half a day and I wouldnıt quit for 
anything.  Actually, Iım working my way up to two a day and love every 
puff of it.  There is nothing like smoking during sex, nothing like a 
healthy jolt of nicotine to accompany a great orgasm.  At first, I 
didnıt understand Carrieıs unique fetish, but now I relish in it.  
When I fuck my woman with a smoke, it is the greatest macho rush in 
the world.

Carrie told me I was special because most guys never looked at her the 
same again after she told them her secret fetish.  Some of them 
stopped calling.  Some of them tried to oblige her, but ended up 
abusing her instead.  I was the first non-smoker she met who was 
willing to start smoking for her and fulfill her secret fantasy.  
This, to me is what being a man is all about.  Itıs all about attitude 
and image, but itıs also about taking care of your woman and 
satisfying her needs.  Thatıs the true meaning of the word macho.