Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Trainee, file #39

   Some of the "juicier" cases I handled had ended in quite a pleasant
mode, rewarding me with some hot workouts with attractive women, but as a
rule, it was one "session" and that was it.  Except with Gina.

   She phoned me and asked for an appointment.  Even though I rarely had a
full schedule, I had made it a policy to pretend I was very busy.  So I
offered her an appointment a week ahead.  This didn't please her at all. 
She offered to pay more, as she said it was quite urgent.  I pretended I
had to see if I could shift some other clients and promised to call her
back.

   Half an hour later I called her and told her that if she really was in a
hurry, I could receive her after hours the same day, meaning 6 PM and at no
extra charges.  She agreed with a lot of thanks and apologies.

   When I heard the door in my waiting room I hid the novel I had been
reading and played busy.  She came in a hurry, quite nervous and shy.  This
of course made me apply the usual tactics.

   'Hi, I'm Gina, Gina Umberti.' She introduced herself, the moment she had
stepped in.

   'Hello.  I'm Rob Fleming, nice to meet you.  Have a seat.  Won't you
feel more comfortable if you light up a cigarette?' I said, getting up and
shaking her hand.  She had a firm but sweaty grip.

   'Yes thank you, but actually I don't smoke.'

   'So it is all about someone else's smoking?' I asked her, expecting
something about maybe a boyfriend.  In that case I was determined to turn
her down, as male smokers weren't in my line of business.  Or maybe it was
about a daughter.  But then she seemed too young to have a daughter old
enough to be or become a smoker.

   'Well...  it IS about me smoking.  I wanted to learn to be a skilled
smoker.'

   Her answer stupefied me.  I had had a case before about a woman who
wanted to learn to smoke to lose weight, but a skilled smoker?  I was
curious to find out what was on her mind.

   'Pardon me, but what do you mean by a skilled smoker?  And, above all,
why?  After all, smoking isn't exactly healthy, as you may know.'

   'Oh, well, can't we just skip that part?  I mean what does it matter? 
Just teach me.  That's what I pay you for.' she said, quite annoyed.

   'Now look here, Miss.  We will come to that, but you must forgive me for
my inquisitive ways.  You must understand that I can not turn you into a
smoker, skilled or not, unless I understand your motives.  The last thing I
want is that you become addicted for the wrong reasons.  Let's not fool
around about that.  That's what's going to happen, whether you believe it
or not.  So allow me please to analyze your motives first.' I said to her,
trying to be convincing.

   Not that it really mattered, but I had to mind my reputation, as if her
motives were be foolish, she could indeed spread some nasty rumors and
drive my clients away.  On the other hand, I was also eager to hear more. I
already had a hunch her story might be interesting.  And interesting it
was, a story more than exciting.

   'All right then, if I must, I must.  It's about a man.  I fell in love
with him the moment he first sat foot in the office.  Now I'm a pretty shy
gal and I didn't dare hit on him.  I had given up all hope to get anywhere
with him, because he never tried, you know, to invite me out or something,
although he always seemed excited when he talked to me.  Last week he was
sent to Chicago to attend a course in computer graphics for five weeks. 
Yesterday, my boss asked me to log in into his account to get a document he
wanted.  He had gotten the login data from him over the phone, so it was
OK. But then, after I had gotten the document for my boss, I couldn't
resist temptation.  I got nosy and looked around at what other documents he
had.  One in particular attracted my attention and I stayed late to read it
all.  I didn't dare print it out or copy it to someplace else, 'cause he
might find out, but I read it,' here she paused to catch her breath.  Under
normal circumstances I would have urged her to smoke, but she wasn't a
smoker, just yet, so I got her a glass of water.  She went on:

   'I was shocked at first.  I had found a sort of diary with fantasies and
reflections.  To make it short, I found out two things.  The first is that
he feels an irresistible attraction towards women smoking.  He calls it a
smoking fetish.  It sounded really awkward at first but the more I read,
the more I understood him.  He has fallen in love with me too, just like I
have with him.  You can imagine the turmoil this raised in me.  Pity is he
writes these things there, but he simply doesn't dare to make a move.  He
is totally unsure about how I would react.  He is unsure about giving me
satisfaction in bed, because I don't smoke and things like that.' she
paused to catch her breath and sip on her glass of water.

   'What brings me here is that I have understood that the only chance to
become his lover is to start smoking.  I mean, I want to please him in any
way I can and if smoking is what turns him on most, then I want to do it.
You see, doing the things he likes will also please me.  I am that kind of
person.'

   I began indeed to understand although I still had to probe her
determination.  I was not so much aroused but rather touched by her
determination to please the guy.  She loved him so much that she would even
accept the health hazard.  To tell the truth, in a way I began to envy the
guy.

   'You are aware that you are about to acquire a habit that will turn into
a very strong addiction and one day you may wake up as a committed smoker,
even though the reason you started smoking may have evaporated?  I mean, I
sincerely wish you that you will marry the guy and live happily ever after,
but even if you will be the smoker he dreams of, still things might go
wrong.'

   'I don't care!  I think I have enough willpower to cope with that,
should it happen.  For now I only know one thing.  If I don't get him, I'll
go nuts.  And if that means I'll become a nicotine junky, so be it.'

   'Good.  It's up to you.  Now where do we start?  Do you have any
experience with smoking cigarettes?  Is there something special you want to
be taught?

   She hesitated, but then she gathered up determination and said:

   'Well, there are a lot of things I need to learn, but I have, like many
girls, tried the odd cigarette as a teenager, so I know at least how to
light up and how to inhale.  Actually, I never got sick from smoking, like
most of the girls smoking for the first time.  Dizzy, yes, but no more.  I
did like it, but there seemed to be no reason to really pick it up, back
then.  So you see, I'm not afraid, but I do need a lot of training to learn
all those tricks, like the French inhale or the double-pump.  I want, as
good as I can, to surprise him by doing all the tricks he dreams about,
some of which I don't even have a clue as to what they actually mean.  The
problem is also, that will, at some point also involve interaction with a
partner and I have no idea where I'm gonna find that one.'

   Now look at that, I said to myself.  She needs a partner to teach her
smoky sex!  Well, she won't have to look any further, no sir!  But I had to
be careful.  So aloud, I said:

   'Yes, I see.  Well, the way I look at it, we need to turn you into a
real smoker first and then think about the partner stuff.  I will give it a
thorough thought in the meantime.  Don't worry, it will come to you.'

   She looked at me pensively and asked:

   'All right then, can we start now?  I mean I haven't bought any ciggies
yet because I also wanted to hear your advice, but I can run down and fetch
some in a few minutes, if you tell me what the best are.'

   She sure was eager to start.  It was tricky though.  I thought of my
first trainee, the woman who wanted to smoke to lose weight, although I
knew from the start that she wouldn't lose that much weight, but on the
other hand, she had chances to gain in sex-appeal and she even admitted she
was aware of that.  It had been a full success including my share in it. 
This time however, she had a deadline and she might or might not succeed.
That's why I decided against patches as starters.  She would have to take
it the hard way.  But for now I would have to make a start and see how
things would develop.

   'Oh, well, I do have some cigarettes here.  We can use them for a
start.' Saying this, I took a pack of Marlboro Red 100s out of my drawer
and handed it to her.

   She looked at them and then asked:

   'Aren't these a bit strong?  I had imagined you would start me on
Lights.'

   'Well, the thing is, I don't think that would make much sense, not with
the deadline awaiting you.  Of course it's up to you, but I think it will
be better this way.  We will need to find the brand you like most, of
course, but that will be later.  By the way, did you find any clue in his
diary about whether he prefers cork filters or all white cigarettes?'

   'He wasn't very specific about that.  As I understand it, he isn't set
on a special type or brand, except he prefers 100s and full flavor.'

   'Very good.  Now, let's get started.  I must insist on one point
however. You shouldn't play brave.  The moment you feel sick, we have to
pause.  Promise me that.  A nicotine poisoning wouldn't help us.  OK?'

   She nodded, so I went on:

   'Now, take the pack and open it.  Take out a cigarette and light it, but
don't inhale, just puff to get it started.'

   She did as told and to my relief she mastered it expertly, like a long
time smoker.  If she hadn't practiced it, she must have been pretty
observant.  That would be a big help.  Time for the next step.  I was
getting a little excited.  It was, after all, only the second time I was
involved directly in the birth of a smoker.  This woman Gina was also much
more attractive than the first one.

   'Now we will try one inhale and see how you feel.  Wait!  Not so fast!'
I exclaimed, as she had already started to take the cigarette to her lips.
'Wait for my instructions, whether you think you know how it's done or
not.' I added, quieter now.  'We will have to take care of the way you hold
the cigarette too.  Did you find any hint to that in his diary?'

   'No, not really.  He didn't describe that part much, but he did mention
how he dreamt about me holding a cigarette between my fingers.' she said,
blushing.

   'All right.  We will have to guess on that one, but I'll show you what I
think adds elegance to smoking.  I can see you know how to hold the
cigarette, but you should place it a bit differently, leaving a bit more of
the filter end free and always see that the fingers are straight.  When you
hold, always hold your lower arm straight upwards, rested in the palm of
your right hand, the fingers bent at an angle of 45 degrees, so the
cigarette points upwards and away from your face.  You can touch the tip of
the filter with your thumb.  There, that's it exactly.  Wonderful!  You
sure learn fast.'

   'Thank you.  But that's easy.  You know I have been watching other women
smoking, so at least what concerns the appearance, I think I know a bit of
what it takes to look good.' She said, a shy smile replacing her strained
appearance.

   It warmed my heart she was such a good pupil.  Time for the first
inhale.

   'The inhale now.  Be careful not to suck in too much smoke.  You still
got to get used to the taste and feeling.  Suck slowly and make your cheeks
cave in a little.  Then part your lips just a little and at the same time
breathe in, but again, not too fast.  Don't blow the smoke out immediately.
It makes it look like you don't enjoy it.  It's best if you silently count
to five and the purse your lips and blow the smoke out slowly.  Some blow
it out from the corner of their lips, others blow it out upwards. 
Personally I don't find that very alluring.  A straight, thin, but dense
stream straight forward is, in my humble opinion, the sexiest way to do it.
Tilting your head upwards is the best way to avoid someone's face.  Now
let's see how you manage.'

   Following my instructions to the letter, she inhaled and, if a bit
clumsy, she mastered it quite well, without gagging or coughing.  Only a
slight swallowing move of her jaws showed that she wasn't exactly
comfortable.  I watched her intently to see if she turned pale or sweaty,
but except for a bit of red in her cheek she seemed comfortable.  Her
stream could use improvement, but all in all she had made a good start and
I told her so:

   'Wonderful, my dear, but tell me, how do you feel?'

   'Uff, I don't know.  It went straight to my head, like a glass of
brandy, but it's kinda nice too.  I feel a little hot, though.' She said,
puffing a little residual smoke, a sign she had, without being told,
breathed in quite deeply.  Marvelous!



   'That's no problem.  It will pass soon.  Take a sip of water.  You can
also have something else if you care to.  I do have some beverages here or
I can get you a cup of coffee, if you want to.  Let me see, I have also
white or red wine and brandy or Bourbon.  Just tell me what it'll be.' I
offered her.

   I was curious as to what she would choose.  Some people do form an early
association between beverages and smoking.  Mostly coffee, but some also
start with alcohol.

   'I don't really know, maybe a coffee.  I've noticed the Gaggia there. 
Is it working?  I love Italian coffee and if it isn't too much trouble, a
Cappuccino would be fine.'

   She surprised me.  Most people had no ides what the machine was in the
first place, but then she had given her last name as Umberti and she did
have a darker complexion and the willowy figure some Italian women have. 
That would explain why she was familiar not only with such coffee makers in
general but also with the brand of it too.

   It had been a present from another Italian customer, a man in fact, whom
I had helped with his smoking fetish.  The guy being an importer of Italian
restaurant supplies, he had sent me the machine as a token of his
satisfaction.  But that's another story.

   At least now the machine came quite handy.  The bittersweet taste of the
Cappuccino would help her cope with the taste of the cigarette.  Marlboros
aren't the smoothest cigarettes around, so it would take time until she
would find it really pleasant.

   'Maybe you should try another inhale and don't forget to de-ash your
cigarette.  Most people aren't exactly turned-on by the sight of ashes
falling to the floor.  You don't have to overdo it, but you should always
watch that the ash doesn't get too long.' Saying this I stood up to prepare
the coffee.  I made one for myself too, and while I don't smoke, I have a
strong affinity, if not an addiction for coffee, mainly all variations of
Italian coffee.  While the machine started with the process of grinding,
heating and brewing, I took the milk from the little refrigerator and
poured it into the metal can, a special pot made of stainless steel, ideal
for the preparation of the milk foam which is indispensable for a good
cappuccino.  I have seen people add cream or even whipped cream to the
coffee, but no Italian would ever think of such a sin and so I don't,
although I doubt that I have even a trace of Italian blood in my veins. 
The manometer showed there was enough steam available, so I placed the
nozzle of the steam exhaust into the pot and opened the valve.  A loud hiss
and gurgling sound accompanied the foaming up process, always music in my
ears.  She watched with admiration how I poured the foam into each cup with
the dark syrupy espresso covering only the bottom.

   Without encouragement from my side she took another inhale, still
carefully watching her moves.  A more natural attitude would come later. 
She sipped on the coffee and she drank without sugar, just like me.  That
was good, I thought, she likes it bitter anyway.

   Indeed she seemed to enjoy the combination quite well and that would
help her.  She even increased the amount of smoke she inhaled to the point
I was afraid she might get sick, but there was no sign of that.  Still, I
had to ask, but I wanted to know first if the coffee trick had caught.

   'How do you like it, the coffee and the cigarette together?'

   'Wow!' she exclaimed.  'I can't believe it!  I mean I took the first
drags because I wanted to, but it was a bit awkward, especially the taste,
but now, together with the coffee, it's fantastic.  I'll become a
coffee-junkie too if this goes on like this.' she said, a big smile all
over her face.  'You know I hadn't expected to find this really so, mmh,
yes, euphoric describes it best, I think.'

   'I'm glad it worked.  But I wouldn't advise you to overdo it.  Twenty
Cappuccinos per day, or at least ten if we say you stretch one to hold for
two cigarettes, isn't exactly surgeon general's recommendation.  Not that
smoking is, but both would be even worse.  Anyway, for starters I think
it's OK.  I'd say you shouldn't smoke more then some five cigarettes
tomorrow.  And take good care.  The most frequent mistake beginners do is
to draw too often.'

   She nodded obediently.  Her cigarette was spent and she stubbed it out,
not exactly with elegance, but we would have enough occasions to train that
too.  To some fetishists it did matter, I knew.  Time to end the first
session.

   'Now I think it's enough for today.  You can keep the cigarettes and the
lighter.  I'll put them on the bill anyway.' I said with a light laugh. 
'We will see about the lighter later.  I do think that an elegant lighter
and maybe a cigarette case are indispensable for a sexy smoker, but we have
to leave your future boyfriend some options for presents.'

   She thanked me and left after we made an appointment for the next
evening.  Quite satisfied, I closed up shop and went home, too.

   The first week passed and she already had developed a bit of a style. 
Her movements when taking the cigarette to her lips, the way she held the
cigarette between her fingers, her inhales and exhales, all that came quite
naturally now.  Obviously she had begun to enjoy smoking.  She was on ten
cigarettes a day now and didn't need the support of the coffee all the
time.

   The next stage was to teach her the usual smoking tricks.  Double pumps,
nose exhales, combined nose-mouth exhales, inhale-exhale combinations,
huffing and hot boxing.  The French inhale kept us busy for two days, but
in the end she mastered it quite well.  Towards the end of the second week
she was closing in on a pack a day and had a reasonable repertoire to drive
the average fetisher crazy with arousal.

   So far so good, I said to myself, but we would have to start with the
interaction part.  How would she react if I offered myself as a "sparring
partner"?  I had no idea whether she would even consider it.  She had
showed no sign she found me in the least attractive.  Besides, she had
started it all because she was, or claimed to be, madly in love with a guy
and was willing to sacrifice even her health for him.  How would she feel
to kiss or even make love to a stranger?  She knew me only as a sort of
"doctor", a trainer in smoking skills.

   'Hi, how are you doing?' I greeted her.  'Still enjoying smoking, or do
you feel some side-effects?'

   'Well, I tried to increase my smoking on the weekend and I did smoke a
pack and a half, but something's puzzling me a bit.' she answered, somewhat
nervous.

   'Now what would that be?'

   'Actually, I don't feel like I'm addicted.  I light up, but not because
I need to, only because I know I should.'

   Her question intrigued me.  Why would she worry about NOT being
addicted?

   'Well, I'd rather think that's positive.  Should things go wrong you
won't have to worry about quitting.' I said, trying to dampen her worries.
After all I knew she would get addicted sooner or later.  I knew of only
very few people to be immune to nicotine addiction.

   'Yeah, I know, but my problem is that I want to get addicted, not just
pretend to.  I've read in his diary that addiction is something that does
turn him on a lot.' She replied with some intensity.

   'Now I wouldn't worry too much about that.  It will come sooner or
later. If you say you do enjoy it, that's half the deal already.  Now let
me see again how you're doing.'

   She lit up and began to demonstrate her skills.  Indeed I had a hard on
soon, so good was her progress.  She dragged endlessly with hollow cheeks,
inhaled without letting the tiniest whiff escape, then held the smoke for
what seemed to be about six or seven seconds and released it with her head
tilted slightly upwards in a perfectly straight long and rich stream.  Next
she did a triple pump and produced a delicious combined nose-mouth exhale,
then a French inhale and so on.  The only thing she still needed a bit of
polishing in was the snap inhale, but that would come.  Yet, I would have
to dive into the tricky problem, the issue of sexy smoke play and smoky
sex, the things I wanted to offer myself as her partner for.  I had of
course had sex with a lot of my female customers as a direct or indirect
consequence of my counseling, but in a way I felt different about it this
time.  It wasn't that she didn't look good.  In fact, in a slightly
athletic way she looked absolutely terrific.  I could imagine her marvelous
C-cup breasts and her smoothly swaying hips, her trim waist under my
fingers and her rich lips on mine.

   She did appeal a lot to me, but what made me uncertain were both her
self-assured style and her intelligence.  Now I had met a lot of women
since I had started my counseling practice.  Some were beautiful but not
very bright and thus more often than not arrogant.  Others were very
intelligent but shy and of plain mousy looks.  But now I had in front of me
a woman of a cool mind that had the looks of a diva.  She gave me the
impression of knowing exactly what she did and that scared me off a bit. 
But try I must, so I braced myself with a few deep breaths and plunged into
the subject:

   'Now my dear, if you go on like this until your object of worship
returns and, as long as you hopefully don't develop an aversion or some
other unpleasant side-effect, you'll be the smoker of his dreams.  You
won't need my services much longer except for two issues, of which the
first one is rather trivial while the second one is tricky indeed.' I
started my speech.

   In response to my rather ranting term for her would be lover, she
laughed heartily.  It was a wonderful sight, to see her head virtually
disappear into a cloud of smoke, as she started to laugh after a good
triple pump.  But then she became serious again and asked:

   'Object of worship!  Ha!  But maybe you are right.  You must think my
feelings are extremely strong for him, to make me go through this and
you're quite right too, so I guess I deserve it.  I know about the
sensitive part.  We have talked about that when I was here for the first
time, but you still owe me an answer.  But what on earth would that trivial
thing be?  Some other technique?'

   Fuck!  She had indeed proven her perceptiveness and intelligence once
more.  No side-approach with her!  But first the trivial issue.  That would
give me another minute or two.

   'Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful, it's just that sometimes
I can't resist using some out-of-date formulas.  I didn't mean to offend
your sensibilities.'

   She smiled now, a warm and almost tender smile.  It was almost like I
felt her mental hand stroking my cheek.

   'No, no, it's my fault, you know.  I just can't resist bitching when
offered the occasion.  Maybe that's why I cling to this chance of tying a
guy to me by means of his fetish.  I have been disappointed once too many
and a lot of men have used my sharp tongue as an excuse to break up and I
couldn't even blame them.' She said.

   For the first time I could see deeper into her inner life and did
understand.  An intelligent girl may look like a goddess but still scare
off most males.  The warm and tender feeling her words had ignited in me
didn't help me a bit.  I feared she would be disgusted more than before if
I would offer my own body for the "training".

   'You just haven't stumbled upon the right one, then.' I tried to
encourage her.  'Or let's hope your colleague feels differently.' I said,
trying to soften her up a bit.  She just nodded.

   'OK!  The trivial thing I mentioned was simply the brand issue.  So far
I can see you have kept to the Marlboros.  You should try a few different
brands and then settle upon one of them.  I'd say you best buy a pack of
each full flavor brand you see on display at the next tobacconist.  Then
smoke them one after the other, maybe leaving behind a cigarette or two so
you can switch back after a while to remember the taste.  If you're
comfortable with the Marlboros, you can stick to them.  Maybe you try some
Menthol ones.  It's up to you.'

   She nodded in consent.  Another deep breath and I took the bull by the
horns.

   'Now to the partner problem.  You see, I have given it a lot of thought
and it's very tricky.  In fact it might be dangerous to try and find one
through the newspaper.  You never know who turns up.' She nodded in assent.
'Personally, I don't know anybody that would qualify, so we're in a fix
here, it seems.'

   All the while I talked, sweat kept pouring out of my pores.  I just
couldn't help it and of course she noticed it.  To my most pleasant
surprise she was sharp enough to guess right.

   'Oh yes, I think you know somebody who would be more than willing.  Not
that I would mind.  It has occurred to me too and I feel quite flattered.
But you must promise me one thing.  We will keep this on a strictly
professional level.' She stopped to laugh.  'Gosh!  Professional!  I'm
sorry.  What I wanted to say was physical.  I mean, look, I know I've
impressed you a lot.  Most men seem to think higher of me than I deserve.
Shh!  Don't contradict me in the name of politeness.  It doesn't matter
much to me.  I didn't expect you to be that shy about it, though.  C'mon,
admit you'd like to lay me.'

   I had difficulties in speaking.  So she was indeed willing!  Wow, that
sounded terrific.  Physical level!  As if one could control one's own
feelings.  But then she was right.  I couldn't afford to fall in love with
her and I didn't have the intention either.  I cleared my throat a couple
of times.

   'Err, yes, you saw through me.  If I was shy it was because I didn't
want to shock you and of course I wasn't sure whether you would be
interested at all.  As to the part of physical or metaphysical or whatever,
you don't have to worry I will stalk you once we're finished.  Whatever I
might feel afterwards, it's my problem alone and I'm not so foolish as to
ruin my reputation or worse, risk to loose more than just money.'

   Till now she had displayed an air of serious concentration most of the
time, but out of a sudden the shell seemed to crack.  I saw a happy, almost
girlish face.  That she took another cigarette and fogged me in with her
smoke.  This did not help me cool down.  But then why should I?

   Slowly she rose and stepped over to my side of the desk.  She took one
hell of a drag, almost a direct inhale and then she jumped on my lap and we
started to kiss.  What can I say?  I felt my middle finger in danger of
bursting.  Not only was she an expert kisser, but she had, maybe by reading
that guy's diary, a good notion of what smoky kisses are all about.  Her
lips were all over mine and her juicy tongue was everywhere.  For a while I
lost myself in paradise.  What would come next?  If just kissing her was
such a terrific experience, what would happen should we...?

   Reluctantly I let her go.  She blew some residual smoke into my face and
took another drag.

   'Did you like it?' she asked with her voice husky with emotion, talking
the smoke into my face.

   Her eyes locked into mine and I saw the emotion in them.  Swallowing
hard to get the words out I replied:

   'There's not much I can teach you at this, my dear.  You are a natural
talent.' And I kissed her softly on her lips.

   She turned her head a bit, to take another drag and launched into the
next smoky kiss.  I should have studied her technique, but my mind went
reeling and for a while I swam on the tidal wave of arousal.  I had felt
less when actually making love to some women.  I began to feel
uncomfortable.  This wasn't supposed to happen.  As if she was reading my
mind, she said:

   'If I hadn't been smoking already, I'd need a cigarette to cool down
now. We've got carried away, don't you think so?'

   'Yes, I'm afraid you're right.  I must apologize for losing my
professional attitude.  I'm sorry.  I shouldn't do this to you.'

   She laughed and I was stupefied to see all emotion disappear from her
eyes.  Then she gave me a more sisterly peck.

   'I'm to blame more than you.  I can understand you just couldn't help
it. It's only human.  I must admit you had me for a moment too.  But don't
worry.  Nothing has changed to me.  You just gave me the opportunity to see
the force a smoky kiss can have on a fetishist.' she said, her voice devoid
of emotion.

   'But I didn't...' I started to protest.  I hadn't actually disclosed to
her that I was a fetishist, too.

   'Shh...' She silenced me.  'You don't have to explain.  It's pretty
obvious, isn't it?'

   I shrugged.  This woman was more perceptive than any human being I had
ever met before.  This thought actually cooled me down a bit.  I tried to
imagine what it would be like to live with such a person.  She could almost
read my mind and she certainly read all my emotions with ease.  No, that
was definitely too much.

   'Now what?' I asked her.

   She had risen from my lap and now stood with her backside propped
against my desk, her legs still pressing against mine.  She looked away
when she answered.

   'We should go on with the program, I guess.  You still need to train me
in smoky sex.'

   I had been afraid she would say that.  There was nothing I wanted more
than having her in my bed, but I was afraid I would lose myself completely.
She had demonstrated how easy she could control her emotions, but what
about me?  Would I get out of it cleanly?  Well, I would have to find out.
I felt that if I stopped at this point and never would have seen her again,
it would drive me crazy.

   'Yes, you are right of course.  But I have to ask you one thing.  Are
you really sure you want to do this?  I mean, don't you feel guilty towards
him?  Even if we keep it on a strictly technical level, although I don't
know if we, or at least I, will be able to do that.  You're about to fuck
around with another guy.  Doesn't that bother your conscience?'

   She shook her head vehemently.

   'Look, I don't deny you've impressed me a lot and I did savor kissing
you, not to mention that I'm looking forward to what remains of the
lessons, but that doesn't mean I'm in love with you, nor that I feel less
for the guy I do this for.  To me it is just physical.  If this is
different for you, it's something you'll have to settle with yourself.  I
wouldn't mind if you give up at this point and I'll pay you what I owe you.
It would be a pity, but I'd understand.'

   My turn to just nod.  Once again I had to admire her ice-cold reasoning.

   'OK, so what will it be?  Do you think you can go on without damage to
your soul?'

   By now I had regained some of my self-control.  In way she had scared me
off.

   'Yes, certainly, why not?  You don't have to worry I'll fall madly in
love with you.  I've done this kind of thing long enough to know how to
deal with that.  You said it yourself, it's only physical.  I'm sure you
know you look outrageously good, but from there to real love it's a long
way, and not road I plan to take.  You're not the only one involved some
place else.' That of course was an outright lie.

   I'm not the kind of guy to run two races at the same time.  I had
avoided any kind of commitment so far, exactly because otherwise I couldn't
have done what I did.  Gina however, with all her perceptiveness and her
razor-sharp mind, didn't doubt my words, or at least showed no sign of
doing so.

   'Well then, we have to agree on the when and the where.' I said, quite
relaxed now.

   'I take it you're not keen on offering your place, then.' She said, and
I nodded.  No sense denying it.  'That's fine with me.  I had insisted on
my place anyway.  I'd hate to race home in the middle of the night or in
the early morning.  You already have my address.  What about tonight? 
We've got a bit over two weeks left.  Why waste any time?  If it suites
you, of course.  I don't want to interfere with whatever you've got going
on privately.' Judging by the irony in her last words, she had seen through
me.  My lie about having a relationship had been futile.  But it didn't
really matter.

   'OK, I'll need some time to get ready.  So why don't you go home and
I'll join you in about an hour or later if you need more time.'

   'Deal!' She said and left.

   She expected me, and she was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and
panties.  I can't say I really expected fancy lingerie, but I was a bit
disappointed.  But then she looked sexy enough despite her casual clothing.
Till now I had seen her only clad in business suits.  Without them she
looked a bit frail despite her generous hips.

   'C'mon in and have a drink.' she greeted me.

   By the slight tremor in her voice, I could tell she was at least as
nervous as I.  We sat there for a while, drink in hand, both a little
embarrassed by the situation.  She was the one to break the ice.

   'Now look at us.  We sit here like teenagers at their first date.  Why
don't we go to the bedroom and get it over with?' she said, laughing
slightly.

   And so we did.  Go to the bedroom, I mean.  Still, we avoided looking
into each other's faces.  Then I realized that I must have been indeed lost
in emotion.  Because I had missed an important point!  She didn't smoke! 
But not only that, there was no trace of cigarette smoke in the apartment.
That finally broke the spell.

   'Excuse me, but there's something puzzling me here.' I said,

   'Now what would that be?'

   She looked at me with true amazement.

   'Well, I don't smell smoke in here.  I mean, you said you smoke already
more than a pack a day and I was wondering where you smoke them, because it
can't be in here.'

   She laughed with all her body, shaking off all the strain.

   'Oh, God, you sure scared me!' she still needed to catch her breath.  I
smoke on the balcony.  See?  There...' she said, showing me the tiny
balcony outside her kitchen.

   'Ah, I see.' I said, almost disappointed of the simple explanation, like
I had hoped for a mystery of sorts.  'But I'm afraid that's a mistake.  I
understand that you want to keep your apartment smoke-free, but you should
think of your would be lover.  If he is a smoke fetishist, the smell of
smoke in here might actually turn him on.'

   She looked puzzled for a second, and then she seemed to get behind the
idea.

   'Oh yes, naturally, you are right.  I should have thought about that. 
It's all about smell, isn't it?  Yes, of course!  OK, I'll do what you ask.
What the fuck!  I'll have to smoke in here anyway, as soon as we finally
start what you came here for.'

   She stepped out on her balcony and returned with a pack of Salem 100, a
lit one already in her hand.

   'I see you've chosen the menthols.' I commented.

   'Ah, oh, well, actually I'm still experimenting.  But I could imagine
settling on these.'

   'Suit yourself.  It'll be between you and him anyway.  Do you want to
smoke this one up or should we get going?' I said, still a little uneasy.
It was not that I was afraid of the act or teaching her.  What gave me the
creeps was the danger of getting involved in earnest.  But it had to be
done.

   'I'm getting tired of beating around the bush.  Get the fuck undressed
and let's get it over with.' She said after a huge drag, not exactly in a
romantic mood.

   So we undressed and when I saw her in all her naked splendor, I gasped.
I had never before seen such perfect breasts, or such a perfectly
proportioned hourglass figure.

   'So, where do we start?' she asked in a rather flat voice, obviously a
little embarrassed.

   'Well, I think we should pick it up where we stopped in the afternoon,
with some smoky kisses and a bit of foreplay.  I mean we don't have to
pretend to be in love, but it should be as realistic as possible.' I said
with more ease than I felt.

   As an answer she took my hand, dragged me down to the bed and we got
friendly.  The almost casual way she kept rubbing her nipples against my
chest or arms while we kissed, made me crazy with arousal.  Luckily I had
remembered to jerk off under the shower, else I'd probably had made an ass
of myself before I had even got my dick anywhere near her inner thighs.

   I don't know if she was a perfect actress or if it came natural to her,
but she got pretty hot too, before I had the chance to "teach" her.  After
a lot of kissing and petting, we finally came around to the act itself and
now it turned out that my worries had been in vain.  Instead of an
earth-shuddering hurricane, our first experience turned into a disaster. 
Maybe it was because she was the kind of person to intellectualize
everything she did.

   We started with her riding me.  The idea was she would simply dangle her
cigarette and bump away, but as I had forgotten to teach her a good
dangling technique, she got smoke in her eyes or choked and sometimes
dropped the burning cigarette on my belly.  I had to give her a
crash-course in dangling.

   'The idea is,' I instructed her, 'to keep away the smoke as well as you
can.  You'll have to sort of hot-box it.  Keep your lips closed and inhale
by breathing in through the nose.  Exhale likewise, nose only.  That will
send the smoke away from your face and at the same time towards your
partner.  We can't do much about the smoke that curls up from the burning
end, except maybe I should have thought of a holder.  We'll do that next
time.  For now, hold the end of the cigarette between your teeth and try to
keep it horizontal and shut your eyes if it gets shorter.'

   With my instructions in mind, she managed to smoke hands-free quite
well, but still, having to light up now and then still distracted her.  In
the end we managed to come together quite well.  Next we did a spooning
act, sideways, so she had ashtray and cigarettes in front of her.  That
worked well, but it was a bit disappointing for the partner, as he, me for
now, couldn't see her actually smoke.

   The obvious conclusion was that we would have to work on it much harder
than it had appeared to both of us, somehow spoiling the fun of it.  To me,
at least, as for her it wasn't about fun anyway.

   The next evening she had gotten a 5 inch holder and that helped, but now
the act of removing the cigarette and attaching a new one made for a
distraction that almost ruined it all again.  Somehow it turned out to be
more complicated than I had thought.  Now I'm not the kind of guy to give
up easily, so I began to seek for some improvements.  The first, quite
obviously, was to solve the cigarette removal issue.  For that, I told her
to buy a couple more holders.  She would "load" them all before and as soon
as she had finished a cigarette, she would simply swap the holder for
another one.  For the lighting problem we placed a candle beside the bed.
While now we were able to perform quite well, still I wasn't perfectly
satisfied.

   Well, I'm not a tinkerer by nature, but in this case I had to improvise
a device I hadn't seen anywhere.  Years later I was to find somebody who
offered it over the Internet, but back then the cyber-space wasn't yet
available for domestic use.  So I scraped up a multiple holder myself.  I
had to buy all sorts of stuff, mainly tools, but the result was actually
better than I had expected.  It could hold four cigarettes in a horizontal
position.  The idea was simple.  Drawing on four cigarettes at a time would
reduce the amount of smoke drawn per cigarette, so they would hopefully
burn longer.

   Well, my calculation was partly right, partly wrong.  She did recoil at
first, but then she agreed to give it a try.  It turned out the cigarettes
would last only about twice as much and not four times as I had hoped, but
as now the smoke she spread was much denser than before, it made me speed
up my pace, so I reached the seventh heaven much sooner.  Surprisingly this
worked for her too, as the increased amount of nicotine did something to
her too and she cried out in the middle of an incredibly dense cloud of
white smoke before she had finished her cigarettes.

   Still, we were nowhere near real ecstasy, much too distracted by all
sorts of petty problems.  I knew it wasn't all because of the
technicalities of smoking during sex.  She was still inhibited, so I had to
find a means to loosen her up.  I don't know why it didn't occur to me
sooner, but the answer was obvious, of course.  Alcohol!  She had told me
she rarely drank any kind of alcohol, but now I had an excuse to talk her
into it.  The problem was, of course, to probe her tolerance.  She should
be tipsy enough to shake off whatever inhibitions she might have, but she
shouldn't be really drunk, lest she wouldn't even remember what had
happened to her.

   By the end of the first week and with the help of lots of brandy, she
began to act more naturally and I could finally enjoy a bit of smoky sex
with her.  It was time to reach the next stage, cigar smoking.  Cigars,
while quite smelly, have one huge advantage over cigarettes.  Depending on
size and make they last much longer then cigarettes.  She wasn't really
eager to start on cigars, having the usual prejudice against women smoking
cigars, but with the help of some mild and flavored ones I managed to talk
her into trying one.  It was odd to see her drag on it and looking at the
cigar after each drag, like she expected to smoke it up much sooner.  She
agreed that while different, cigars, or at least the ones I had brought
her, were quite suitable to smoke during sex, as they lasted long enough.
As if proving it, we did indeed for the first time have good sex, free of
strain and distractions or haste.

   I had been very disappointed with our first attempts, but now, with the
help of cigars, I got my reward.  Maybe it was better that way, I said to
myself, had it been otherwise, I might have gotten too fixed on her.  All
those difficulties had helped me regain some of the usual detached attitude
I needed.

   We concluded our "works" with a couple of bigger cigars and a Jeroboam
as the crown of it all and even though she avoided inhaling mostly, still
it was a wonderful sight to look at her blowing all that spicy smoke.  With
the cigars we could finally come to the missionary position that hadn't
worked well with cigarettes because the ashes kept falling all over her
face.

   Given the shortness of time, I had done well.  Towards the end she told
me she had begun to feel cravings when she couldn't smoke a while.  In the
morning, she couldn't wait to light up the first one and she would chain at
least two with her coffee.  I had trained her into a fetisher's dream the
best I could.  After a bit of advice of how to act when her future lover
would be back in town, she settled her account with me and I thought I saw
the last of her.

   She came back one more time, though, to tell me what had happened. 
Judging by her radiant face she had good news.  I felt a sting of jealousy
against towards her lover, who had really made her blossom, a thing I
hadn't achieved with any of the women in my life.  She lit a cigarette,
this time a Benson & Hedges.

   'Hi,' I said, 'how'd it go?'

   'Oh well, it was on knife's edge for a moment, but it's heaven now.  He
has all but moved in with me and we have a hard time at work, keeping our
little secret.' She blurted out.

   'So, aren't you going to tell me more?' I asked her after she had smoked
in silence for a while.

   'All right, all right.  I needed to catch my breath a little.' She said,
lighting a second cigarette from the butt of the first one.  I was a bit
surprised, as she hadn't learned that from me.

   'I did what you told me, teasing him by staying as close as possible to
him each time I had taken a smoking break.  He had no choice but to notice
that I smoke now.  It took him one day to follow me to the smoking area and
he had quite some difficulties in addressing me, although he hadn't been
shy before he had left on his trip.  Clearly he was awed by my smoking, but
then something seemed to drive him away, almost like he was disgusted.  It
was a good thing you had warned me, though.' She took a couple of drags and
went on.

   `I sort of waylaid him and asked him outright if he was mad at me.  The
moment I started talking I realized what his problem was.  He was so
overwhelmed by my transformation into a smoker he hadn't dared to show his
feelings.  He was afraid of me!  Can you imagine that?  I didn't even wait
for an answer, but jumped on him and God, what a response!  My lips hurt me
for two days, so fierce was his kissing.  Can you imagine we were standing
there in the parking lot for all to see and couldn't stop kissing and
pressing into each other?  We hardly made it to my place without tearing
off each other's clothes.  I have never seen a man so frantic with arousal.
I mean, I'm almost thirty and I haven't lived like a nun, but I've never
seen a man so eager to please me and so potent.  You know, he confessed
later he hadn't known he could be capable of such a performance either.'

   Her eyes were swimming with emotion.  She lit another cigarette and then
went on.

   'Mr., Fleming, I owe you a lot, you know.  I think he wouldn't have
dared to come there if I hadn't started to smoke, and I do believe that
we'd have missed a lot.  I know from his diary that whenever he had been
together with a non-smoker he had been distracted whenever he saw a smoker.
So I congratulate myself for having dared to consult you.  I'm still a bit
afraid of the moment he might ask where I learned all those smoky tricks,
but so far he hasn't.  He's still enchanted and takes what he can get.' She
looked so charming with happiness written all over her face that I felt my
old melancholy rise.  Would I be so lucky one day?  I could only hope the
guy was worth it.  But I had to keep up my pretense of professional
detachment.  Never before had it been so hard.

   'I hope you remembered what I told you, not to reveal all of the tricks
I taught you at once.'

   She laughed.

   'I may be madly in love but I'm not stupid.  We haven't even started
into the kinkier stuff yet.  I hope I'll be cunning enough to make it look
like it's been his idea.  It's hard, as he isn't stupid either, you know. I
may have to confess I've read his diary one day though, as he's sure to
figure that out sooner or later.'

   'But I hope you won't tell him about me?'

   'C'mon Rob, you think I'm retarded?  I know I'll have to pretend I did
all by myself.  But I gotta go now, he's expecting me.' she leaned over and
gave me a peck.

   'Thank you Rob, you're a genius, you know that, don't you?'

   And there she went.  I think that was about the first time I seriously
considered giving up my counseling.  I had lost my distant professional
attitude and been in danger of falling in love.  Had it not been for Laura,
who knows?  But that's another story.

   The End