Like a True Smoker Should

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Johnny woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke, just as he had for so many years before. He was nineteen now, but spent most of his college breaks at home, where he slept in his lumpy twin size mattress.

He went down to the kitchen, where his mother was smoking a cigarette. It was only 7:30 in the morning, but there were already five butts in the ashtray that had been emptied the night before. She was taking a cheek hollowing drag, the ember engulfing more of the tobacco as Johnny entered the room.

She exhaled. “Good morning, Johnny.”

“Good morning, Mom,” he said. “How are you?”

“Honestly, not the best,” she said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Larry ended things last night.” After she said this, she took a long final drag off her cigarette, extinguished it, and chained into another one.

“Oh, no,” said Johnny. “I’m sorry.” He’d been in this situation before, trying awkwardly to console his mother after a relationship of hers had ended. He was never sure what to say.

“Thanks. Sit down and have some coffee,” his mother said. She was only 39. She’d had Johnny, her only child, when she was 20. She was very pretty, with brown eyes and dark brown hair. Her voice was just beginning to get the slightest smoky rasp to it. She still looked young; the only signs of aging were some fine lines around her mouth from smoking.

Johnny got a cup and sat at the table. The coffee was a little strong for him, but it was drinkable. His mother moved her ashtray away from the center toward her, away from Johnny.

“Well,” said Johnny, cautiously, “what happened?”

His mother looked at him through the smoke. “Some people just aren’t meant to be,” she said.

“I know,” said Johnny. He knew he was about to hear more. Mom and Larry had been going out a few months, so there must be a story.

After a few moments, his mother spoke again. “He didn’t want to date a smoker.”

“Really?” Johnny was surprised. Even if Larry didn’t like smoking, his mother offered a lot in other ways. It was weird to think about his mother as a woman, and even though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but have formed an opinion of her after all these years.

She was slim, but had breasts that were quite large for her body. She dressed in a way that wasn’t slutty, but accentuated her assets. Anytime she left to go out, she showed just enough boob. Of course, unlike Larry, Johnny found his mother’s smoking habit to be one of her most alluring traits.

“Yes,” said his mother. “You know, maybe he’s right. I know it’s a gross habit. And, let’s be honest, I know I’m not exactly a light smoker. But I always keep up bahçelievler escort my health and appearance in every other way. I eat right and work out. I don’t even drink anymore.”

“I know,” said Johnny. “You deserve someone who will appreciate all aspects of you.”

“What do you mean?”

Johnny realized he’d perhaps become a bit too supportive. “Just that I don’t think it’s a good idea to change for someone else.”

“That’s sweet of you. But I’m not sure how many guys there are who would appreciate smoking. And I’m sure you’d be happier, too, if I quit.”

Johnny didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think his mother knew he had a smoking fetish. And the conversation hadn’t quite gone there, but it was close. Right solar system, wrong planet. “I don’t want you to change for someone else. I actually do think there are men who would appreciate you, maybe even especially for your smoking.”

“Really?” She looked skeptical. By this point, she had put her cigarette out, but hadn’t lit another one yet. The pack that had had a few cigarettes leftover from the night before was now empty. She got up and grabbed her purse. Her habit was to buy a carton of cigarettes at a time and dump all ten packs into her purse so that she always had her cigarettes with her. “Shit, only one pack left,” she said. She opened it and took out a cigarette and lit it. “I’m sorry I’m smoking so much as we talk about my smoking.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Just who are these guys that like smoking? I mean, since we’re being open here, and you’re an adult now, I’m going to be honest with you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Johnny said, with a lump in his throat. His desire was to be kind to his mom and help her. But he felt himself getting excited about the conversation.

“I’m simply not going to be quitting smoking. I love it. It’s my biggest pleasure. I tell people I smoke ten a day, maybe more on weekends. You know that’s a lie. But you don’t know how much I smoke. I’ve been at two packs a day since I was 35. And over the last couple years or so, it’s sometimes been more than that. I don’t let it get out of hand. I mean, I think this amount of smoking is reasonable and right for me right now. I make good money now, and I’m on track to retire by 60. I raised a great son on my own. The only thing that ever makes me feel bad about it is you. You’ve never said anything, but I’m sure you don’t like it. Honestly, this isn’t the first guy who has broken up with me about this. But he might be the last. I’m okay giving up men to keep my smoking.”

“But maybe you don’t bağcılar escort have to give up men,” said Johnny. “I know this sounds weird, but there’s such a thing as a smoking fetish. I don’t want to encourage you to smoke, but I know smoking is part of who you are, and if finding someone who would enjoy that about you would make you happy, I’d be happy for you.”

“Honestly,” said his mother, “the idea of a man actually enjoying that I smoke is exciting to me. I’ve obviously heard of a smoking fetish before. But these guys must be so rare.” Even though she usually tried to at least pretend to limit her smoking around Johnny, she wasn’t being shy now, and lit another cigarette. The ash tray was beginning to fill up.

“Maybe not as rare as you think.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to say this, but he thought it might make his mom feel a little more encouraged. And it made him feel excited. “Since we’re being honest, can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” said his mother.

“I actually have a smoking fetish.”

His mother didn’t react except to take a deep drag and exhale. Johnny could tell she was invested in the conversation because she was being less careful about blowing smoke away from him, and had slid the ash tray back to the middle of the table where it wasn’t in danger of being knocked to the floor.

She finally spoke. “I never would’ve guessed,” she said. “But on the other hand I guess I never thought much about you as being attracted to people. I mean, I know you like girls. And I guess it makes sense that just like anyone else there would be things you’d like and dislike. But you’re really into smoking?”

“Yes,” said Johnny. “But I can’t believe we are having this conversation.

His mother laughed. When she laughed was when you could most hear what the smoke had done to her vocal chords. “Neither can I. But I’m glad we can talk about these things. So, if I can ask, and you don’t have to answer, what is it? Like, do you want your girl to smoke when you have sex?”

“For me, no. I like the small things. Just watching her inhale and exhale. That kind of stuff.”

“I see. I’m just not sure how I would find someone like you. Like, do I stand on the corner smoking until a random dude comes to watch? Plus, I’m not a sexy smoker. I don’t play games or do fancy tricks, I just want my smoke.”

“See, that’s what I like.” He shuffled around. “I mean, obviously not about you, but about women. To me, you’re like the ideal smoker. It’s honestly hard for me to find women who smoke like you. It’s easy to find a girl who might smoke ümraniye escort for fun at a party, but not a girl who actually smokes.”

“You’re being sweet and helpful, Johnny. Can you tell me what exactly you think makes me a good smoker? It might help me.”

“I don’t know.” He was getting nervous, fidgeting with his coffee mug.

“Just tell me,” she said. “I’m okay with it. I know you don’t look at me sexually. But it at least makes me feel good that someone can appreciate what I do.”

“Fine,” he said. “I like that you are just a true smoker. You’re totally addicted and need to smoke. You don’t even pretend that you’re thinking of quitting. Smoking is the one thing you prioritize over your health, and even over me, just like a good smoker should. And maybe that would make most people upset, but it actually makes me love you more. I know you want the pleasure, and I would never want you not to have it.

“You smoke a lot, like a true smoker should. For you, smoking is the default. It’s weird when you’re not smoking a cigarette. People think a pack a day habit is a lot, but for you that’s not even enough for a morning. You don’t play around with shallow drags. You put as much smoke as you can in your lungs and blow it out. You fill your ash tray to capacity, then empty it and fill it again. You don’t care about the cost. With prices these days and the amount you smoke, you’re probably spending close to $10,000 a year on cigarettes. What most people consider a waste is the true smoker’s greatest investment.

“But most important, the true smoker isn’t ashamed. You are proud of your smoking. I can see it in your eyes when you light up around our nonsmoking friends and family. And you’re not afraid. All the danger of smoking is nothing to you. You embrace it.”

His mother smiled. “That’s lovely. But I’ll never find someone who appreciates my smoking like you.”

Johnny was hard, and his heart was racing. “You’re right. Just like I’ll never find a smoker like you.”

She lit up another cigarette. This time, she purposely blew a stream of smoke at Johnny. “A true smoker needs someone who admires her because of her smoking. Not in spite of it. Enables her. Keeps her smoking. Even the true smoker might have days when she wants to quit. Bad days like today. But she needs someone to keep her on track, like you are doing for me today. Someone to push her. Someone who knows he will always be the second most important thing to her, after her smoking. Someone who wouldn’t want it different.”

“Someone like me,” said Johnny.

“Exactly.”

“Just smoke for me,” said Johnny.

Johnny’s mother collapsed her cheeks, taking as big a drag as he’d seen her take, and exhaled with a smile. As she did, he watched her tits, which she was no longer bothering to keep hidden in her robe, rise and fall.

“Just promise me one thing,” said Johnny.

“What?”

“That you’ll never quit.”

“I’ll smoke until the day I die, like a true smoker should.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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