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 Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, Part 4

   Saturday, the 10th of May

   Next morning the sun woke me up around nine.  I had slept like a log,
but I was still quite wobbly and not really rested.  Surprisingly, I also
felt quite elated, despite the day before.  I looked down at Moira.  She
was still sleeping and spreading that wonderful scent, a mixture of tar and
perfume with a touch of stale smoke.  I had an idea.  Though she usually
didn't even drink coffee before she had had a healthy breakfast, I might
just coach her into a new habit, suiting her much better.  I tip-toed my
way down to the kitchen and managed to brew coffee without much noise. 
Luckily we hadn't settled on a regular coffee machine,with its gargling
sounds, but instead I had bought an electric kettle and one of those funny
looking french coffe filters, in which you put the coffee powder and then
press a piston down to filter the coffee and keep the coffee grounds in the
lower part.  In few minutes I had the a mug of deliciously smelling fresh
coffee on a tray to carry it up.  But something was still missing.  I took
a detour to the living room, where the remains of last nights debauchery
lay astray on the table.  I had to empty and clean the ashtray, formerly a
mere ornamental accessory, a wedding gift from somebody, and then I placed
it next to the coffee on the tray along with the pack of Salems and the
lighter.

   I paused briefly before the door, but then I heard a slight cough
inside, no doubt the precursor of the morning hack she would develop over
time, as I hoped.  I would do my best to keep her smoking, to nurture her
habit, but it wouldn't be easy to do so, while I had at the same time to
keep up the pretense of worrying about her health.

   Another idea struck me and I took a cigarette out of the pack, lit it
and placed it balancing on the edge of the ashtray.  I had lit cigarettes
for girls before, one of the few pleasures I had managed to extort from the
smokers I had been dating before Moira.  With a "Tadaaa" I opened the door
and carefully placed the tablet on Moira's lap.

   "Hey!" she exclaimed.  "That's so nice of you.  Thank you Honey."

   Then, wrinkling her nose, she added.  "Actually, I shouldn't be smoking
again.  I mean, I really overdid it last night.  But on the other hand, I
still feel like having one right now."

   So she pulled eagerly on the cigarette and, holding down the smoke, she
sipped on her coffee.

   "Aaah, that's so good!" she babbled away, puffing smoke like a dragon.
"You know, I wouldn't want you to pick up smoking too, but you sure don't
know what you're missing.  Gosh, I can't believe it!  Look at me, half a
year ago I was the straightest girl in the world and now I'm trash and I
love it" she exclaimed, but then she remembered and I could see her eyes
swim with tears once more.

   In a twisted way I liked that, because it made her pull hard on her
cigarette, the pattern of using the nicotine as the universal comforter in
all circumstances, happy or not, being already well established.  I knew,
from others and from the Internet, that this was the best guarantee she
won't give up smoking easily.  The reward she got from the nicotine rush
just was the best motivation to keep smoking.  And I wasn't the one to
interfere with that.  I had lost a dull but faithful wife, but I got a
compulsive smoker instead.  After only a few month of smoking she already
showed great potential to become a heavy smoker and I would see to it that
she didn't waver on the way up.  Yeah!

   I turned away to look out the window.  I didn't feel particularly
touched by her careless remark, but why show her I was about to fully
forgive her?  The more so, as I wasn't sure yet how I would feel about that
in the long run.  Could any amount of hot sex ever help me to overcome the
loss of my dull but secure marital life of before?  But right now I would
take what I could get and see where it would lead us.

   So I turned back to her and smiled.

   "Oh c'mon Sweety, let's make the best of it.  I told you yesterday,
you're not the only one to blame and though for now you are on probation
and will be for quite a while, let's not fret too much over it.  Things are
the way they are and neither of us can change the past.  I'll do my best to
give you what you've been missing in our life and what drove you into other
arms and, err, well, you know, if you find after a while that I'm still not
good enough for you, well we we'll deal with that if and when it happens.
Just don't do things behind my back any more."

   The speech had drained on my power and left me with wobbly knees.  My
mouth had overtaken my brain once more, as the mere idea of loosing her
still scared the creeps out of me.  But it was out in the open now and some
where deep inside I know I was right.

   So I watched her smoke incessantly and blow huge clouds of creamy white
fragrant smoke.  I restrained myself from jumping her, but the bulge in my
short was quite noticeable.

   "Hey, you do get turned when I smoke.  How funny!" she chirped happily.
"My, when I think how I fretted over how to hide it from you!  I even
bought some patches, but they weren't really helpful.  After two hours I
still needed a ciggie.  Jeez, I'm hooked for good!"

   Gone where the tears and she once again had gone from deep down to high
up again.

   "But now look at you, you're not only letting me smoke but you like it
too.  How am I to quit ever again?  What a dear, dear husband I have and I
didn't even know it, Muah" she blew a kiss to me.

   Needless to say that I shoved the tray away and soon we were tougher in
bed, smooching and petting like to teenagers, on our best way to fuck like
rabbits again.  But before I could really get into her, she pushed me back.

   "How can you kiss me like that?  I must stink like a toilet, I haven't
brushed my teeth yet!"

   This was partly true, but I liked the bitter sweet smell of her mouth,
the more so as it mixed with the fresh after-smoke fragrance.

   "Sweety, don't worry, I didn't notice anything funny about you.  You
taste yummy and I won't let you out of my claws right now.  I've got the
boner of the century and lest you want to waste it, forget about washing
and brushing.  And, oh boy, before you go into that too, your night-sweat
smells fantastic.  Better than Viagra!"

   And that concluded it.  My boner was put to good use.  Of course Moira
had to enjoy her post-cigarette after that and she did need it.  I had
really done my best to drive her into a sizeable orgasm that left her all
sweaty and panting.  At least in that I had performed beyond my wildest
dreams.  Right now she had nothing to complain.

   I decided to take a break for the moment.  I felt sore and no doubt she
wasn't better off.  All morning we cuddled and smooched, as if we were on
our honeymoon.  I could see how well it did her that I avoided the
forbidden zone and never mentioned the day before.  To my delight she kept
lighting up frequently, ever so often gifting me with smoke filled kisses.
The best part of it was that she now volunteered them, which made me feel
much better about it.  I could think of many other ways to indulge on her
smoking, but I saved them up for later.

   We ordered pizza and went up to take a nap in the afternoon, but as I
spooned her we ended up making love once more, as soon as she lit up a
cigarette while laying there with her back to me.  Though she had long
finished the cigarette before things got really hot, even the fact that she
had been smoking while we started, propelled me higher and higher.  For
once I didn't really watch her reactions and just pumped away frantically,
but then it took me a bit longer now to climax, as our ongoing little orgy
was beginning to take its toll.  At least that way she still had ample time
to take off before I did.  Then somebody must have turned out the lights.

   Sunday, 11th of May

   I woke up hours later to the smell of fresh smoke drifting in from
downstairs.  It took me a while to clear the cobwebs and get rid of the
spin in my head.  Just about every part of my body ached when I walked down
the stairs.  But then I saw her there, sitting naked on that sofa, watching
a soap on TV and smoking absentmindedly.  The carton of Salems was still
there on the coffee table with already three packs missing.  Since early in
the morning she had smoked more than two packs!  I must have died and woken
up in fetisher's heaven!  This was almost too good to be true.  But then,
she had been smoking only for a few months.  Maybe the next day she would
feel so ill she wouldn't even be able to smoke.

   I dropped my aching body next to her and kissed her tamely on the cheek.
Time for some damage control.

   "Sweety, maybe you should cut down a bit on your smoking." I started.

   "But I thought you liked it!" she replied, a little annoyed.

   "Oh yeah, I sure do, but I don't want you to exaggerate just to please
me."

   "Who says I do, silly?  I smoke because I like it, because right now I
just feel like stuffing me with all this tasty smoke.  These minty darlings
are just too delicious." She said and gave me a short but juicy kiss.

   "Oh, well, then I guess it's OK.  But please, never ever smoke just
because you think it pleases me." I said, still trying to conceal my true
feelings about the subject.

   "Sure, Deary, but Gosh, I must be crazy, I can't help it.  I just love
to smoke, it feels so good!  See, it has nothing to do with you, silly,
although, it does help that you actually like it." she babbled happily. 
"You'll have to cope with a chain-smoker soon, if I go on like this."

   Well, I wouldn't really mind that, I said to myself.  We ended kissing
and she had found a new smoke tease all on her own.  Remarkable!  She took
in a good lungful of smoke and started to tease my lips with her tongue,
while letting the smoke drift slowly out between her slightly parted lips.
That left me rather frustrated, because I felt I really couldn't do her
once more, and she kept arousing me with her little smoke tricks and on
purpose too.  We kept necking till it grew dark outside, forgetting about
the TV and the world around us.  Only the pangs of hunger growing loud
while I just couldn't part from this gorgeous smoking goddess, broke the
spell.

   Needless to say that we didn't get too much sleep that night.  Though I
had really spent my energy for the moment, still in no way could I keep my
hands off her and neither did she, so I wound up, working on her with my
hand, in the end using my finger, where my poor limp dick should have been.
That finally seemed to please her enough so we could both get some sleep.

   Monday, 12th of May

   I still had a few days of extra leave to spend at home, a little bonus
from the company for the six month away from home.  So after I served Moira
her little "breakfast" of coffee and cigarette in bed, something I wowed I
would do every day from now on, just for the pleasure to see her shiver
with delight from the first nicotine rush of the day, I drowsed off while
she got ready for work.  She blew some smoke into my face and kissed me
softly on my lips as a farewell and off she was.

   I managed to catch up with my sleep deficit for a while.  I was still
suffering heavly from fatigue, as the last two days I hadn't have chance to
recover from an almost 24h flight half around the globe with two stops in
Singapore and LA and the jet-lag after six months in China.  Even the
business class ticket hadn't helped that much, as on the first leg of my
odyssey from Beijing to Singapore I had been on a Air China flight on a
antique Airbus of the first generation, with wide but rather short seats
that couldn't be reclined fully.  The Singapore airlines flight to LA had
been a bit too crowded for my taste and though much more comfortable, I
couldn't really rest well enough.  From LA to Richmond I missed all meals,
falling asleep right after take off and the glass of champagne they had
served.  I usually don't drink much, so the alcohol didn't do me much good
and I woke up from the landing announcement with a headache.  The three
hours drive home in a rented car hadn't helped much either.

   I had to bring back the car to the nearest Sixt in town and take a cab
back home with a quick lunch in between, so it was early afternoon when I
got back home.  The house smelled strongly of stale smoke and even though
the reason for this was the best thing that had happened to me in years, if
not in my whole life, still I had to do something about it.  Luckily, as it
was summer, I could open up all windows and let the fresh air in.

   Slowly the odors evaporated while I carried the hose of the house Vac
from room to room and cleaned up all the carpets.  Though normally quite
tidy and careful to the point she would get into a fit over a spilled cup
on the tiles in the kitchen with little true damage, Moira had managed to
spill a lot of ashes on the floor during our rave of the day before.  So
even though I hadn't been too keen on doing housework before, I now turned
into a super-maid.  After I was half ways satisfied with state of the
carpets, I took the mop and lots of My best friend Mr.  Proper and whipped
the tiles in the kitchen clean, then all the surfaces in the kitchen and
finally the glass top of the coffee table in the living room.

   The carton of Salems had disappeared from the coffee table, but I found
it in the Kitchen in one of the wall cupboards, next to the coffee supply.
Good thinking, I said to myself, Coffee and ciggies go together well,
almost as good as booze and smokes.  I knew that from my extended
wanderings through the Internet, mostly from the time before I had met
Moira.

   I counted the packs left and to my disappointment she had only taken the
forth pack with her, leaving the still half full third one behind.  But
then it would have been to much to hope she would keep her pace up like she
had the last two days.  It had been an exceptional situation, first to get
caught red handed cheating on me, then not to find me wild with rage, but
turned into a wild stud and on top of all, crazy about her smoking too.  I
could imagine that even if she would have been able to conceal her screwing
around while I was away, her newly acquired nicotine addiction had caused
her even more headaches, as I could rightfully assume that she had no
reason to expect me to be so forthcoming abut her smoking.  After all,
since we had known each other, out of mere self preservation, I had given
her every reason to believe me to be a staunch anti-smoker.

   Not that I hadn't fantasized about Moira being a smoker, but she also
had claimed to be absolutely against smoking.  Which sent me along another
line of thinking.  How was it possible that a girl who seemed to have been
so shy and well-behaved, who never drank, smoked or showed anything but
disdain for drugs, who was almost virgin, having, of course by her own
assertion, lost her innocence without feeling much pleasure or
satisfaction, in the usual way after prom night with a guy who's reputation
had been way better than his abilities, how was it possible that such a
good girl had taken a hundred eighty degrees turn within six month and
become the exact opposite of what she had been?  At least concerning sex
and smoking she had, but it wouldn't have surprised me to learn she had
taken into booze and drugs too.

   I had no reason to suspect she had used drugs, certainly not in the last
two days, as I would have noticed and I hadn't smelled any trace of alcohol
on her either, but while that hopefully excluded the harder stuff like H or
coke or any of the other, highly addictive horrors, speed or dope couldn't
be ruled out easily.  But then I remembered to my relief that her employer,
one of the large distributors for all sorts of electronic stuff and
computer parts, just as the networking company I worked for, both had a
strict policy of weekly drug tests.  So I could rule that out at least.

   Certainly, whatever changes in her character she had gone through, she
couldn't have gone that wild to risk her job.  She knew to well we had a
huge mortgage round our necks so we both needed our jobs lest we'd end up
sleeping in on of our cars, probably her ten year old rabbit, as my own
sedan would go with the rest of our things, should push come to shove.  And
at least the "old" Moira had always been unusually conscious about out
financial situation, sometimes even getting on my nerves with her
occasional close-fistedness.  But why shouldn't that have gone down the
drain together with her previous health-conscious attitude or her "virtue"?
Even if she had started as a moderate smoker, and I was certain she had, as
nobody could launch into a 2 pack a day habit over night without risk
serious and immediate consequences and probably get cured of smoking for
life, nevertheless, she must have been on at least a pack a day for quite a
while, that much was obvious, even if she had played it down.  And that,
though luckily in our tobacco producing state prices for cigarettes hadn't
blown the roof yet, still meant quite a few bucks spent day by day.  As for
the alcohol part, I had to wait and see.

   I wasn't quite sure what my feelings were about that anyway.  Before I
got married, I often had had fantasies of fucking a drunken slut, but I had
never been able to get some first hand experience, as neither of the girls
I had ever dated had been into drinking, not while I was with them, anyway.
I had, at some point, met one of my former, or let's better say transient
girlfriends, at a party, hanging literally round some guys neck and
obviously unable to stand straight any more, but she was with that other
guy.

   So, I wasn't sure whether I would actually enjoy being intimate with a
drunken Moira.  I did expect she would, should she really have taken to
drinking, smoke a lot more than her usual amount when drunk, as I had long
ago found out that habitual smokers would, given a certain level of blood
alcohol, smoke more and with greater lust for nicotine.  Alcohol and
nicotine normally complemented each other.  As a matter of fact, I had even
found some medical explanation for the phenomenon, but I hadn't bothered to
memorize it.  All I cared for, where the symptoms and not cause or cure. 
Enough that I could predict with a certain degree of likelihood, if a
smoker had a few drinks, she would smoke more and often inhale deeper and
more often than when sober.

   Although, recalling Moira's constant and avid smoking from the day
before, I wandered whether there was much room for improvement.  She
already smoked like a fiend and her drags had been, much to my delight,
quite deep, the amount and density of smoke exhaled more than satisfactory
or let's better say satisfying.  Actually, the more I brooded about it all,
the more I realized it wouldn't be easy to outdo my sexual performance of
yesterday, or even keep it up.  Wouldn't a "normal" sex life seem dull and
boring after yesterday?  True, I did have things on my mind, which might
still bring some new and hopefully refreshing elements into our sex-life,
but I couldn't really be sure whether Moira would go along with any of the
stuff I was thinking of.  At least part of her forthcoming and open-minded
attitude of the day before had been driven be her shame and guilt.  Well,
at least she hadn't fallen in love with another guy, that much I could
hope. She certainly seemed eager to make it up to me.  How her feelings and
behavior might change in the future after our freshly revived and improved
sex-life would start to wear out and turn into a habitual but not very
exciting habit, nobody could know.