Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, Part 15

   Thursday, the 22nd of May to Saturday the 24th

   Thursday and Friday passed rather quietly, in a haze of smoke and with
lots of sex.  Maybe not that much sex in fact, as on Thursday Moira wasn't
quite herself.  She was a bit hung-over, not unnaturally so and not smoking
at her usual pace.  On Friday however she seemed eager to catch up, which
meant she would chain four to five cigarettes, then take a break of maybe
twenty minutes, occupied with other things, meaning me, then she would
again chain a few, take a break and start all over.  Though she didn't
smoke during sex again, as she had Wednesday night, I couldn't complain. 
However, she complained she had gotten fed up with menthols.

   On Saturday morning, she was just about to finish her last pack so I
raced to the mall to get her fresh supplies.  She asked me to bring her
only one carton of Newports and some Marlboro Reds.

   The guy from the tobacco store was beginning to remember me, so we had a
little chat.  In the end, I bought a carton of Reds 100 and one of Newport.
Though I also saw some other smokes that had fascinated me ever since my
teenage years, I decided to be pertinent and wait for the right time.

   Moira eagerly ripped open the Marlboros and lit one.  She inhaled
forcefully and held down the smoke for quite a while, before blowing it out
in a long cone.  I watched fascinated, as I never could get enough of the
display of her smoking skills.  Truly, Moira was a natural.  She never
played with the smoke, never did such ugly things, like blowing out
sideways through the corner of her mouth, or exhale right after inhaling.

   "Mmm." She exclaimed.  "Did they change the recipe or somethin'?  I
haven't smoked them for a while and it feels like they're not as strong as
I remember them.  Makes me want to smoke two at a time"

   In my mind it made ping.  Before I had met Moira, I had, for want of
anything better, often browsed the web for smoking sites.  Though I never
went as far as to buy stuff, I did collect some free clips and now I
remembered that one of the models had produced a number of movies involving
a quad holder, a contraption made out of the stem of a pipe to which
somebody had attached a flute-like tube with four holes.  In the holes, he
had glued or pressed short plastic tubes of the appropriate diameter to
hold cigarettes.  In this way one could smoke four cigarettes at a time. 
One of the clips had been so special, I had almost been tempted to buy the
DVD.

   But, I never did that, as whenever I watched one of the better clips, I
always jerked off in the middle of it, so that left me flat on my belly
each time.  Still, I watched the one clip from that enchanting woman over
and over.  It was one of her "drunken" clips.  In that particular clip she
played a little scene, of a woman dressed to meet a guy.  However, waiting
for the guy to turn up she started to drink to steady her nerves and smoked
four cigarettes at once, from that quadruple holder.  Though I couldn't be
sure, it did look like she got wasted for real while recording the clip. 
She kept drowning shots of Tequila and finally she drank from the bottle,
as she couldn't hold the shot glass any more.  The amount of smoke she
produced with her holder was amazing.

   Well, I would think about putting together such a thing like a quad
holder, maybe sleeker than the rather primitive thing I had seen in the
clip.  Pity I had not thought of that before, I could've provided Moira
with one right away.  As it was, I could only do one thing.

   "Sweety?" I asked.  "Remember last weekend, at the mall?"

   "Yeah?"

   "Well, we were window-shopping at the tobacconist."

   "And?"

   "You mentioned you were tempted to try something new." I said quite
shakily, as I was closing in on my target.

   "So?" she asked again, though I thought I could se the tease in her
eyes.

   "Well, I had this crazy idea last week and when I went there to buy your
cigs, and... Actually I meant to wait for our anniversary in two weeks." I
replied more confidently.

   "Hey wow!  I almost forgot!  You really bought a present for me?  For
our anniversary?  But , I haven't..." she said, growing suddenly sad.

   That called for a big smooch.  What did I care about any present?  The
"new" Moira was present enough.

   "Now, do you want your present or not?" I asked after quite a while.

   "Yeah, but go get some ciggies first, I'm dry." she replied.

   "I will, I will, but just give me a chance to show you our present." I
pleaded.

   "All right, you've got thirty seconds."

   I ran to the garage and back in Olympic gold time.

   "Here." I said, too excited to say more.

   "Wow!  But how did you know?  Can you read my mind?" she asked, flushed
with joy.  "Ever since I started smoking again, I had an appetite for a
pipe now and then, but somehow I didn't dare.  I mean, having to confess to
you I started smoking was one thing, but not even now that you... I mean,
don't you find it yucky?  I know how Grandpa's breath smelt and..."

   "Well, one step at a time.  But, to answer your question, I just added
two and two.  Not that I was cocksure, but I just had to try.  Guess I'm
more of a pervert than I thought." I replied.

   Moira took one pipe and sniffed at it.

   "Needs breaking in, I'm afraid, so I'll have to keep the horses back for
a while.  Pity, cause I'm greedy to suck in some real smoke.  I mean
ciggies are good and I love them, but they have more chemicals than
tobacco. So let's see, what have we got here?  Middleton?  I remember,
Grandpa always saved the best Burley leafs for them.  I never tried
anything but Grandpa's home-brew, but I guess this can't be all bad. 
Anyway, these pipes sure look fancy, simple and elegant, as if made for a
woman.  Yeah!" she babbled away happily, totally fascinated by her new
toys.

   "O come over here, let's give us a kiss.  Maybe you won't want to kiss
me after a while.  I'm gonna stink big time.  "

   I didn't need a second invitation and hadn't Moira been so eager to
break in her new pipes, we might as well ended up in bed.  But as it was,
she opened the can of tobacco, sniffed, declared she would smoke it anyway
and then she filled the first bowl.  She filled the first one only by half,
she said, to break it in.

   "Hope this Black'n Mild stuff has enough Burley in it.  It's supposed to
help build the cake.  Otherwise I'll burn holes in these pipes faster than
you can buy'em." She said, mixing elements of Harlem and deep South slang.
She could articulate herself very well, almost CNN quality, but sometimes
when she got emotional or had a mind for it, she slipped back into her
natural lingo, reflecting her animated past.

   While chirping away happily, she had filled the bowl and packed it.  I
could only admire the expertise she showed at it, leaving no doubt she had
done this many times.  The magic moment arrived and she flicked the rather
bulky Butane lighter that had been part of the set, along with the pipe
tool and some other gear, all neatly arranged in a leather case.  Well, she
would need a larger purse for work, I said to myself.  Or she would have to
find an alternative to pipes and I would be there to provide her with one.

   "Mmmh, I almost forgot how good this is.  I could get used to this B&M
stuff, you know.  These Middleton guys sure know what they're doing.  It
doesn't taste as crispy as Grandpa's blend, but then he always had fresh
leaves to chop and boil.  For a off-the-shelf tobacco it's really good."
she purred, hidden behind a cloud of sweet smelling smoke.

   Although I was all feverish with emotion and arousal, overwhelmed by the
live-show I was watching, I felt I needed to hold back and not press myself
upon her.  Not really surprising, as I had been all but satiated with
smoking and sex in the last two weeks, I felt I could control my emotions
better and better.  Besides, I was a bit worried.  I hadn't actually seen
any female pipe smoker in my life.  True, I had watched clips on the web,
but that just wasn't the same thing.  Would she taste good or not?  The
smoke had a wonderful spicy and sweet flavor, unlike cigarette smoke, which
smelt really good only if exhaled by a woman.  Only the context made me
enjoy cigarette smoke.  If a man smoked a cigarette next to me, I found the
smell quite repelling.

   Moira had just finished her first half-bowl and primed her pipe to
prepare it for the next round.

   "Time for a full bowl.  Should taste even better." Moira said happily. I
could see how thrilled and excited she was about her now toys.

   She did so and soon she was puffing away, inhaling a good lungful every
once in a while.  I couldn't keep my eyes off her.  This was so different
from the way she smoked cigarettes.  She would keep the pipe between her
teeth, sucking, then letting the smoke waft out, making those typical
puffing noises, then, as if by mistake, she would suck harder, open her
mouth to take out the pipe and inhale in the smoke with a sort of loud sigh
or whooshing sound.  When she exhaled, she opened her mouth rather wide and
blew a shorter and seemingly thinner cone of smoke.

   "Oh, but I'm so thoughtless.  You're watching me like a hungry puppy and
I'm neglecting you.  I can see you love what you see and I'm so grateful
for that.  I never dared dream of a hubby who would not only tolerate my
smoking, but also support and enjoy it, without even smoking himself.  I
mean, I got kicked on the nose once and I though it will always be that
way. Hadn't you gone to China, we might still be a smoke free household and
I'd deprived you of your little pleasure, not to mention that I felt only
half a woman all those years I kept away from smoking.  I never really got
over it, you know." She chirped away.  "C'mon over here and let's find out
if you like pipe smokers as much as you like ciggies."

   Well, what shall I say?  It was a strange taste and smell, harsher,
stronger and somehow repelling, but I just loved it.  The outcome was the
obvious.  Moira had to postpone her pipe-sweetening till after our hot
intermission.  Surprisingly, she didn't even ask for a smoke break after
the first round.  And I?  Well, I surprised me and Moira by hoisting my
flag again within minutes.

   The rest of the day went by in a cloud of fragrant sweetish pipe smoke,
intertwined with a lot of kissing and smooching and two further trips to
the bedroom.  In the evening Moira finally declared she was getting a raw
throat and I could see she had taken in quite a lot of nicotine, making her
a little squirrelly and, as a byproduct, also a bit sore in her tender
parts.