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 The Last Case



   After I had helped many people, my reputation spread.  Every day I had
to advise people in all sorts of problems.  I was always glad when once in
a while a woman would come to ask for advice about smoking.  I could
reconcile female smokers with their non-smoker partners, or help mothers
accept the smoking habit of their children.  Occasionally I would even wind
up with a hot smoker in bed for a night filled with smoke and sex.

   Then one day Laura popped up.  She had been one of the "queens" in our
high school.  I called them queens, because they were the kind of
successful and glamorous beauties that had no eye for slobs like me.  They
would pick only the best of us boys to mate.  Never would they even
consider dating boys of their own age.  However they often chose me as
their confidant.  I became the platonic friend of a couple of girls.  One
of the girls who had become a real friend was Laura.  I had been hopelessly
in love with her and while all she saw in me was someone to talk to, she
had dominated my wet dreams till we both left for different colleges.  She
had been smoking ever since I first met her.  That of course had made her
the more attractive in my eyes, but alas she was playing in a different
league.  Besides she had a boyfriend and would only come to me to seek
advice or just talk.  She said that she enjoyed my conversation because I
had very mature views and knew a lot more than most of my drab schoolmates.

   We stumbled upon each other one day at a coffee shop.  She seemed really
glad to meet me and we chatted for a while over a cup of coffee.  She told
me she had returned to town after college and was living with a guy she had
met in college.  She had a good job and was thinking about getting married
with her boyfriend.  I told her what I was doing for a living and she
seemed impressed.  As she made no move to light a cigarette, like she had
always done back in high school, I asked her about that.  She told me her
boyfriend had made her quit and she was very happy about it and went on
praising the guy.  To my professional ear her words sounded a bit hollow,
but I kept my impression to myself.

   After half an hour she went away.  I sat there brooding over a second
cup of coffee.  I had felt quite a twinge when I had seen her suddenly at
the counter of the coffee shop.  I thought I had forgotten her, but my old
infatuation was still there.  But then she was as remote as she had always
been and life had to go on.

   And so it did, till two weeks later she rang me up on Saturday night. 
At first I could hardly understand her words.  It sounded like she had been
drinking quite a lot.

   'Hi Rob, do you make house calls?'

   'What happened?'

   'Oh Rob, I'm so desperate.  George has left me.' she broke into a crying
fit.  In between drunken sobs she said:

   'Please, can you come over here?'

   I asked her for the address and promised to be there in ten minutes.

   When she opened the door, a cloud of smoke was hanging over the place. I
smelled not only cigarette but also cigar smoke.  She had a half smoked
tipped cigar in her hand.  Her face was puffy from crying and drinking.  On
the table in her living room I saw an empty bottle of vodka and a nearly
full one.  She fell in my arms and started crying again.  I took her to the
couch and we both sat down.  Between sobs and hefty drags on her cigar she
began to tell me the story.

   'I met George during college.  He was the most brilliant and attractive
man I've ever met.  It took quite a while till we became friends, because I
was smoking back then and a lot too.  He had always been an anti-smoking
activist and he confessed to me later that even though he had fallen in
love with me at first glance, he wouldn't want to get involved with a
smoker.  But as I wasn't giving up he decided he would give it a try
anyway, hoping he could make me quit.  And he did get me to quit.  I was so
crazy about him, I would have done anything to please him.  Of course at
first I tried to just not smoke in his presence but he smelled it of course
and after we had quite a row, I gave it up completely.  Till yesterday I
haven't touched a cigarette.  But I felt he still suspected me of smoking
behind his back.  The troubles actually started half a year ago, after my
promotion.  My new boss is as a heavy smoker as can be and she also likes
to smoke a good cigar now and then.  She has special permission to smoke in
her office and sometimes, when I have to spend some time with her, my
clothes take on the smell.  Even worse, once or twice a week she insists
that I accompany her to business meetings with customers and after lunch
there's lots of smoking going on, including cigars.  I had a hard time to
fight the temptation, but I really didn't relapse.  George of course smelt
it on my clothes and on my hair.  I could see it in his eyes he was more
and more suspecting I had taken up smoking again.  I could do what I want,
there was no way I could remove his doubts.  The shit hit the fan one
night, when at my suggestion he dropped in at such a dinner.  I had told
him where we would go and when, so he could watch secretly and see that I
didn't smoke.

   My boss asked me to accompany her to the restroom and in front of the
door she asked me to hold her cigarette as she wanted to fix something on
her shoe.  George popped up exactly at that moment and saw me with the
cigarette in my hand.  I didn't even hold it properly, but to him that made
no difference.  He stormed away, convinced that I am a liar.  I couldn't
possibly run after him and had to stay there for two more hours.  When I
got home, he had already left with most of his stuff.  He hadn't even cared
to leave a note.  That was a week ago.  I was crushed, but still hoping to
persuade him that it had all been a misunderstanding.  I tried to reach him
several times at work, but never got him on the line.  I didn't know where
he was living, so yesterday I left early from work to go to the place he
works and wait for him.  When I arrived outside the building I could just
see the taillights of his car.  I followed him and to my surprise he parked
directly in front of the building where I work.  Before I could jump out,
my boss, the chain-smoker, came out of the building, opened the door of his
car and sat down beside him.  That alone could have been some weird
coincidence, but before he started his car, they kissed for quite a while.
She even lit a cigarette and they kissed again.  I was sitting in my car,
trembling in shock.  If I could have moved, I may have gone there and tried
to kill one of them or both.  I've been an idiot.  The stuff with my boss
making me stay in her office, taking me out to places filled with smoke, so
my hair and clothes would reek of smoke, the scene at the restaurant with
the cigarette, it had all been a set up.  The two of them have first tried
to get me smoking again.  My boss even tried to tempt me several times. 
Then, when they saw I wouldn't give in, they framed me and made me believe
that he had left me because of my suspected smoking.  He might have been
seeing my boss for a long time.  What had become of his hate of smoking? 
He sat there and kissed a chain smoker with obvious pleasure!

   I woke up to some degree, when a policeman told me to drive off, as I
was parking on a tow away zone.  I went home and couldn't get a straight
thought into my head.  Fantasies of killing them both, of killing myself
and all that flushed my mind.  I must have been sitting on my bed for
endless hours, still dressed in my business suit.  Sometime in the middle
of the night I slumbered away to wake up early in the morning from a
horrible nightmare and the cravings of my life.  Suddenly I decided there
was no reason why I shouldn't smoke again.  Without changing my clothes I
went to the mall and bought myself a box of my Marlboros, then I saw some
Tiparillos, so I took those too, then two expensive handmade Cigars and
finally I bought six bottles of Vodka.  I would re-enter the world of
pleasure and indulgence on smoking and drinking myself into hospital.  I
have been drinking since this morning and I smoked half of the stuff I
bought, but I couldn't stand it anymore, I had to talk to someone.  The
more I drink the worse it gets.  Forgive me for taking up your time.  You
don't deserve this.  I'm stinking like a drayman and you must be choking
over the air in here.  I'm so sorry for spoiling your evening.'

   She reached for the bottle of vodka and gulped down some.  I wondered
how she could take that much alcohol without passing out.  By the butts in
her ashtray I could see she had smoked one big cigar and a couple of
smaller ones, apart from at least two packs of cigarettes, which lay empty
on the table.  Even if nothing worse happened, she was bound for the
hangover of her life.  I took her gently in my arms and she cuddled into me
like she belonged there.  Then she seemed to realize something and took
away the cigar.

   'I'm soorry, darling, the smoke must be kiiiilling you.' she couldn't
speak clearly anymore from all the alcohol, but she was still conscious.  I
gave her a slight kiss on her lips, to show her I didn't mind her smoking.

   'You don' min' the sm'ke?' she managed to ask.

   'No Miss, I love women who smoke.' I was sure that given the state she
was in, she would have forgotten all in the morning, so I dared admit my
smoking fetish.

   'Aaah, c'mon, your mak'n' fun've meee.'

   I took her by her head and started to kiss her in earnest.  She seemed
not to mind at all and willingly opened her lips for a good French tango.
When we both ran out of air, she took another lung buster from her cigar
and sighed pleased.

   'Wanna fuck a dr'nken slut?  Whiiiile I sm'ke my prrreci's li'l
cigieee?'

   Giggling childishly she reached with some difficulty for the second one
of her oversized torpedoes.  She lit it with some clumsy puffs, drank some
more from her bottle and inhaled a good quantity from her cigar.  Blowing
the smoke directly into my face, she said, barely intelligible:

   'If you're ...  man, you f'ck me hard rrrright nahow.' she undressed
with difficulty and stretched on her back on the floor, cigar between her
teeth, puffing and inhaling heavily.  She lifted her knees and straddled
her feet, to invite me in.  Seeing my once unreachable beauty queen smoking
that huge cigar and inviting me to give her a good workout was more than I
could take.  I knew I was taking advantage of her and if she were to
remember anything of what would now happen, she would never want to see me
again, but I didn't care.  I had never been a real man to her and why
should she see anything in me now?  She would probably have her Super-lover
back in no time, so this was my only chance to make love to her.  I tossed
my clothes away and knelt down between her legs.  I took her buttocks in my
hands, lifted her pelvis to my dick and thrust it in.  She gave a muffled
miaowing sound of pleasure and her body shook in frenzy.  I hadn't thrust
in and out more than twice when she seemed to reach her orgasm already and
she rolled along the plateau puffing and inhaling on her cigar
uncontrollably for maybe ten minutes, till I shot off myself.

   That seemed to have knocked her over completely, so I took the munched
up cigar from her mouth and kissed away the brown juices from round her
lips.  She had fallen into a comatose sleep.  I took her into my arms with
some difficulty, as she was quite heavy with her wonderful statuesque
athletic body, and carried her to her bedroom.  Sweating heavily I managed
to lay her in her bed and cover her with a blanket.  I went to the living
room, opened all windows to get in some badly needed fresh air, and cleaned
up the mess as good as I could.  I searched for a key and then I took the
remnants of almost three packs of cigarettes, a pack of Tiparillos and two
cigars outside to the waste bin.  Not knowing what she had in her fridge I
ran to a little overnight store on the other side of the street and bought
cans and packs of juices and also some eggs to help her recover in the
morning.  Then I went back to her apartment and stretched beneath her on
her bed to watch over her.  I fell asleep myself, but she woke me up now
and then groaning, but she didn't seem in trouble so I let her sleep. 
After a while she slept deeper so I dared roll away and sleep myself.

   I woke up long before her and mixed her a drink based mainly on tomatoes
and seasonings.  I knew it would help a bit with her hangover.  First thing
I heard was her retching in the bathroom.  I heard the shower then the
washing basin as she brushed her teeth, to improve her breath as best as
she could.  When she came into the kitchen, still dizzy, she was startled
seeing me there.  Then she relaxed and fell on a chair.  I gave her the
juice.  She looked at me and asked:

   'No coffee?'

   'Later, drink this first, then we'll see.' she gulped it down, reluctant
at first, then with growing pleasure.

   'Aaaah, this saved my life.  I can feel my head shrinking almost to
normal.  How come you're still here?  I was sure you had run away
disgusted. I behaved horribly, even though I'm not sure I remember much.'

   'I couldn't leave you alone in that state.  I wanted to watch over you
and help you with your hangover.'

   'Oooh, you really are my best friend.  The only real gentleman I ever
knew.'

   Saying this she gave me a tight hug, pressing all of her body against
mine.  Though her hair still smelled like a gin palace, it was the hottest
chaste embrace of my life.  I dared give her a light peck on her cheek, but
surprisingly she turned her head and kissed me on the lips.

   'If I can get my head to clear up a bit, we have to talk.' She sounded
serious and I was afraid she would reproach my misconduct of the night. 
After some eggs, more juice and some vitamin drinks, she felt good enough
to light a cigarette and we went to the living room.  We sat on the couch
and she smoked a while in silence to sort out her mind.

   'Look!  I'm extremely grateful for what you did for me yesterday and
today.  I'm terribly ashamed of my behavior.  I got stone drunk and lost
control, while you behaved like a true friend and helped me thru it.' There
we go, I thought.  She remembers enough to know what happened and looks for
a way out.  But, as it turned out, I was dead wrong.

   'I made you lay down with me and even though you must have been totally
disgusted, you managed to make me feel good and even gave me what I needed
most.  For all I know you must have a girlfriend waiting for you, but
instead of running to her, you stayed here.' I had to put her right.

   'You don't have to fret about that.  No one's waiting for me.  I'm free
as a bird.  Besides, I'm the one who should be ashamed of taking advantage
of you.  I can assure you that I wasn't disgusted at all.  It's time I tell
you something about you and me.  Back in school I was hopelessly in love
with you.  Seeing you now has opened the old wound again.'

   It had taken me some courage to tell her this, but I felt the time for
misunderstandings was over.  She turned crimson red and stared at me in
disbelief.  For a second I thought she would get mad.  But then she burst
into a hysterical laughter with tears running out her eyes.  She stubbed
out her cigarette and reached out for the last little cigar she had left
over after the orgy last night.  She whispered:

   'That calls for a strong one.' she puffed nervously on it to get it
going, than took an endless drag and inhaled to her toes.  She held down
the smoke quite a while, then exhaled slowly and lustfully.

   'Aaah, I might get too friendly with these little bastards.  Like my
body wants me to get down all the nic' I've been denying it the last three
years.'

   She wiped away her tears and gave me a bittersweet intense look.

   'You know that all these years I was in love with you too?' It was my
turn to blush to my toes and stare at her in shock.

   'You never made a move so I thought you were a too cold and calculating
intellect to get involved with a silly girl like me.'

   'But you had a boyfriend, a guy who had good grades, looked like Mel
Gibson and could have broken my spine barehanded.  What could a girl want
more?'

   She giggled.

   'Ken the Moron?  He was just for reputation.  We hardly ever kissed.  I
never loved him.  It was you who made me hot.  Half of the other girls who
saw you back then were in love with you too.  I was jealous like hell.  But
you were such a good bastard.  None of us dared ever make a move.  Why the
hell didn't you ever tell me you even liked me?'

   'I never dared.  You were the upper class and I was just a slob.  All
brains no muscles and no fancy clothes either.'

   She leaned over to me, gave me an affectionate peck on my cheek and
sighed from the depth of her heart.

   'Now what?' I asked.  'Fuck like minxes, raise rugrats and live happily
ever after?'

   It was an allusion to a movie we had once watched together on video. 
She burst into a hysterical laughter, choking on the smoke of her cigar.

   'You know what?  I guess that might be more or less the idea.  But first
I need to sort out some things with you.  Till then please stay there in
your corner, or I won't be able to go on.' She took yet another deep down
inhale from her cigar and started to talk out the smoke.  I loved that
sight.  She had often done this back in school, when we would sit somewhere
and often enough I had to struggle hard to hide the bulge in my pants.

   'My memory of yesterday night is a bit fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure I
remember the parts that count.  You did actually kiss me while I was
smoking one of these, didn't you?  Wasn't that repulsive?  I mean in
college I had once allowed a boy to kiss me after he had smoked a cigar and
I almost puked afterwards.  Why didn't that bother you?'

   Time for the truth, I decided.  If something good should evolve from
this, it only could work if I told her the truth, the whole truth and so
on.

   'Well I could explain now that a really horny person would find lots of
smells and tastes hot, that she or he would under normal circumstances find
horrible.  That is true, but in my case there's more to it.  A lot more. 
For me smoking makes a woman hot.  I'm not, like a full flavor fetisher,
interested only in the act of smoking as such, but smoking makes a woman
look sexy to me, to the point I get instantly aroused if an attractive
woman smokes.  The smell of the smoke on her breath or the taste on her
mouth while we kiss is a great turn on for me.  Don't get me wrong, if a
woman is attractive, she doesn't have to smoke to turn me on, but if she
does smoke, it's a lot better.  That in a nutshell, is why I don't mind if
a woman smokes in my presence or while we kiss and why I do not hate but
actually adore all the side effects like smelly breath and the taste of
tar.'

   My confession had unsettled her and left her in a pensive mood.  Finally
she said:

   'Does that mean you fell in love with me because I was a smoker?'

   'Oh good heavens, no.  I fell for you the moment I first saw you in our
class.  I had no idea that you were already smoking back than.  Only after
we got friendly and you asked permission to smoke on the back porch of our
house did I find out you were a smoker.  That was quite a heavy load, I can
tell you.  But honest injun, cross my heart and hope to die, I loved you
because you were who and what you were and still are.'

   'I'll have to take your word for that.  What choice do I have?  It would
be stupid of me to send away the only person in the world who loves my
smoking almost as much has I do.  There's one more thing I want to know. 
Do I recall it right, I smoked a cigar while you fucked me?'

   'Yes you did smoke one while we made love.'

   'And did you like it?'

   'To tell you the truth, cigars have quite a heavy smell, but if I'm
excited enough it doesn't matter any more.  Coming from your mouth it turns
into pure perfume.'

   My answer seemed somehow to make her happy.

   'I have a confession to make too.  My smoking frenzy of yesterday was a
sort of revenge on George, but the cigar part was something different.  I
have always had a fantasy of choking on a real big cigar while someone sent
me to heaven.  Because I was drunk enough I had the guts to actually try it
and I'm terribly grateful you were here to be my partner in it.  Only we
need to do it once more when I'm sober.' She had stubbed out her spent
cigar while talking and she moved over to my corner of the couch.  She
cuddled into my side and then she asked looking me into the eyes:

   'You really don't mind the way my breath smells now?'

   The only answer I could give was to bring my nose near to her face, take
sorrow sniff and sigh delighted.

   'Lady, I'm getting horny just by sniffing on you.'

   She laughed happily.

   'Who would have thought of that?  I was always a bit ashamed that I
loved smoking so much and my only hope had been to find a guy who was
smoking like me and wouldn't mind it, because he was no better himself. 
And now you!  Not only were you my first love and pretend you're in love
with me too, but you also love my stinking breath.  It's almost too good to
be true.

   'Hush, little lady, I have a mind to give you some proof.'

   She giggled and started to work on my shirt.  We made love on the very
same spot like the day before, only this time we pressed our bodies on each
other, like we would want to crawl under each other's skin.  It was a slow
gentle act.  We took deep pleasure in the touch of our bodies and it was
almost a disappointment when we reached our orgasm together.  A wave of
incredible warmth and satisfaction rolled over me.  She seemed to feel
pretty much the same, by the angelic expression on her face.  We rested
there, side by side in a happy silence.

   Finally she stretched and said:

   'This was the best lovemaking I have ever had.  It's true after all.  If
you really love someone, there's no room for fancy stuff and awkward
positions.  Did you feel that too?'

   'Oh yes my dear.  You spoiled me for any woman that may follow you in my
bed.'

   She giggled and slapped me slightly on my butt.

   'You bastard!  How dare you!  Do you think I will ever again let any
woman take my place?' She said, half joking, half meaning it.

   She wasn't really ready to admit it, but anything except spending the
rest of our lives together was unthinkable.  And so I moved into her place
and after a while we got ourselves a proper home and eventually got married
and had kids.  She smokes to this day, even though I did my best to keep
her from smoking thru her pregnancies.  She sometimes loves to play little
games with my fetish and I love her the more for it.  I have given up my
counseling practice and now I work for a big company in personnel.  My
skills come to good use there, although I sometimes miss the smoking.  Not
mine of course, but that of my "patients"

   THE END OF THE SMOKE COUNSELLOR