Alley of No Return

By touchofsable


The 38 year old in the black velvet figure hugging dress bit down on her full carmine lips. She needed a cigarette.

Jane Matthews put down her half drunk glass of wine on the bar, and slipped quietly into the crowd. Her friends were all busy discussing the play. God how she hated the monthly staff trip to the theatre. Very occasionally there would be a good production, and sometimes she would get to see a ballet which she loved. But the staff at the school where she taught were not her kind of people. In any case, she knew that they disapproved of her in several ways; though were too polite too actually mention it. And now the smoking ban which had come into effect meant that even the the interval after an hour of intense boredom was no relief.

She had decided to skip the second part and wait outside for the others, where she, the only smoker at the school, could have some respite. She wouldn’t mention it as they would try to get her to stay. Right now though they were so engrossed they wouldn’t even noticed she hadn’t rejoined them. After the theatre they would go on to eat at the local pizzeria; she knew the owner had a thing for her and she was looking forward to seeing him again so had to join her colleagues again later.

Descending the spiral stairs discreetly she went to the cloakroom for her fur. It had been snowing outside earlier, and it would be a cold hour but at least she could chain smoke and would be warm. As she passed her ticket to the attendant, a young man came out of the gents toilet. He glanced at her, and looked like he was about to speak. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him, so merely touched her raven bob behind her ear to show off her sculpted cheekbones, and smiled back. Again the guy looked like he wanted to say something, but looked acutely embarrassed, and started up the stairs presumably to see the second half of the performance. Well , despite his good looks, no real man would actually be at such a dreadfully boring production. She sighed, put on her full length blue fox coat and pulled it around herself.

She smiled; enjoying its luxury; the luxury her colleagues detested she knew. The few ill informed comments she had from them were always put down by Jane easily….and they had no stomach for argument. They also clearly disapproved of her smoking too; but she was not the sort of woman that submitted easily to the concensus of the combine. She was her own woman; and enjoyed the fact that she was different to the others; relished it. Jane Matthews was glamour and elegance personified; and she revelled in it. To her smoking was part of seduction; so much so it had become a consuming passion. She had nothing but contempt for non smokers; despised their lily livered timidity.

As she went to open the double doors, an outstretched hand pushed the door before she could reach it. She turned, and again the guy who had smiled at her was there. “Allow me” he said, a tremble in his voice. “Thankyou” she smiled. “Nice that there are still some gentlemen”.

She glanced back and smiled at him again. He was a looker alright. Shame he didn’t have more courage; but then he was only around 19 years old. Certainly didn’t look like a smoker. Jane Matthews liked men who smoked.

Her husband of eleven years hated smoking; and she had moved to a new town as soon as her divorce had come through, and taken up a new teaching post. In the year she had been here, she had only had three sexual encounters. All “unsuitable” men; all exciting, all married. It suited her and it had suited them. They all refreshing to have bad boys after her lame husband….and she had relished the taste of nicotine and hard liquor on the breath of the three of them. Maybe later tonight if she was lucky Carlo would be the fourth. Dark, swarthy, confident, well dressed and Italian. And a smoker too. She paused to light her cigarette as she rounded the corner, and inhaled deeply, eyes closed at the thought of his manhood inside her; his leather clad thighs against her nakedness; pumping her full of nicotine laced fluids. She couldn’t wait to see him again. The last outing to his restaurant, at the end of the evening he had helped her on with the same fur coat she was wearing now, and she had noticed how he had clenched his hands into the fullness of it as he had helped her on with it. “So soft; so beautiful….it is nice to see a stunning english lady to wear such a fine coat…in my country every woman wears; in England it is so sad that you don’t see so many”. He had also accompanied her outside and lit her two cigarettes during their time there; and even had one himself with her. Yes tonight she would have him; and right now she was becoming aroused at the prospect.

She pulled on her leather gloves from the pocket of her fur, and put them on. It was minus 6 maybe; but she was dressed for it. She placed the cigarette to her lips in her now gloved hand, and pulled hard on it once again. As she rounded the corner her exhale was illuminated bright against the theatre lights, and the silver cloud lingered in the cold still air. Lingered long enough for Jason Peters to inhale it.

He had to pluck up the courage. Did she remember him? Twice he had missed his opportunity to speak. He remembered her words to him in class some years before. “Seize the day”, and tried to recall a quote from Shakespeare’s Caesar that she had taught him too. Well now he breathed in deeply; enjoying the smokey essence of her that hung there …..he would now try to seize the night.

Jane Matthews stopped in the darkness of the alley, and as the end of her cigarette glowed slowly , she paused. Then it hit her. The boy who had opened the door for her; it was Jason Peters. How could she forget? The kid had a crush on her for years and she has coached him to be the best student in her class . He had gone to Oxford University after 6th form college she heard, and was doing well studying Chaucer and Middle Engish. She smiled; another success story…she was a good teacher and always took great pride in getting her pupils to appreciate Shakespeare in particular; and Jason had a real talent for reading aloud with great inflection. He could have been an actor she thought. How she wished she had pursued her early acting career. Oh well lost opportunities she almost said aloud. Her mind wandered back to Jason Peters. He was always a good looking lad but now he was a man. She thought back to how she used to catch her looking at her sometimes in the school they had both been in for several years miles from this newtown near Oxford. She missed Southampton. Missed the boats, the nearby villages, the drives along the coast when she needed to get away from her miserable husband. But she certainly didn’t miss him. How had she wasted so much time with him? Oh well, she was free now. Free. Again she wrapped the blue fox she had bought in Copenhagen on a holiday with her divorce settlement money; her husband hated fur, and hated smoking. She loved both. She also remembered that Jason Petters was mesmerised by her smoking; as men and boys alike it seemed often were. She smiled and inhaled again; end glowing. As she breathed toward the light at the end of the alleyway to enjoy the fullness of the exhale, she saw a silhouetted figure of a man. Yes it was a man alright; muscular, athletic. It was Jason.

He was watching her. She took another long drag on her cigarette. “You bored with the play too?” she asked. “It’s Jason isn’t it? Jason Peters?”

The hypnotised Jason Peters walked toward her. “Yes miss” he said; the tremble in his voice still evident. “I thought it was you but I wasn’t sure. Wow you look so beautiful tonight…the fur is awesome. I remember that long black fur you used to wear…that was lovely too. And you still have the dark bob…its glossy; lovely. You look stunning. He paused; a little unsure of himself. “So….So… how are you?”

“I am fine Jason; really good. And thankyou for the compliment. I hear you are at Oxford….course good?” Jane Matthews said with a soft cascade of smoke which floated toward him. She flicked the cigarette in her gloved hand which she held outstretched at her side. Jason stared at it, and the thick soft pelts that framed it . Ever since he had first seen her smoke all those years ago he had a thing for women that smoked. But he had never actually dated a smoker; or even dreamed of a woman in a fur this magnificent.

“Yes it’s fine Miss; really good. Miss….may I ask you something?”Jason asked, his courage growing by her relaxed attitude.

“Fire away” Jane responded, raising the long white tube to her lips again , the fiery glow illuminating her narrowed eyes and seductive smile “and you don’t have to call me miss anymore…it’s Jane…” With the nicotine caressing her veins and fur caressing her face; Jane felt sexy. She also knew that Jason was aroused by her smoking. She also recognised that he had grown into a good looking guy. And they were in a dark alley together; and there was electricity in the air aswell as luminous blue dancing smoke.

Jason straightened himself and cleared his throat. He moved closer to her, and she straightened too, their eyes meeting; neither averting. “I remember a quote from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar Miss…I mean Jane. You taught it to me. You said people should live by it. You mentioned about seizing the day…

“Wait Jason” she said softy. She turned to alley entrance to see nobody could see them. She took a long drag on her cigarette, and their eyes met again.

As she exhaled her words in a deep husky whisper:

“cowards die many times before their deaths….”

Jason took it up, as he put his arm around her back and pulled him toward her

“….but The Valiant never taste of death but only once”

The scream of an owl and the rumble of a nearby goods train did not disturb the intimacy as his mouth opened to meet hers, and smoke filled his lungs for the first time in his life. He melted into her soft fur coat, which opened as he pressed his erection against her.

Jane broke off the kiss; running her gloved fingers through his hair and looking deep into his eyes. “You always liked me smoking didn’t you Jason? Well…I like guys who smoke too. Do you mean those words…?”, she dared, knowing he was a non smoker, and taking another deep drag herself. She exhaled slowly the thick stream of smoke just past his face and held the cigarette close to his face, beckoning him to try. The chiselled young face turned to the cigarette and as his lips were about to close on it, she moved it fractionally away.

“Are you sure you want this Jason? It’s a path of no return. Addiction will grip you forever. Its beautiful; all that is truly beautiful is deadly. Do you really want? I mean really want?”

He looked toward her, this time his eyes narrowed in focus on hers, as he took his first puff.

Jane moved her body rhythmically against his as her corruptive charm worked its magic. “Again” she demanded, with more than a little twisted wickedness in her voice. The end glowed again and gain. And his firm grip on her started to relax as she knew his head was spinning. Spinning so much as the nicotine ravaged his veins for the first time; pumping blood faster to his already swollen phallus. She kissed him hard, leaned back against the wall, and her leg rose up behind him, her stiletto boot digging the back of his thigh. Their entwined tongues danced in the blue fog that passed between them, only the odd curl drifting away from them.

Jane discarded the cigarette and her gloved hand reached into his black jeans. She slowly took hold of him and pulled him against her. She groaned with a smile as he broke through the thin nylon veil between them and entered her.

Once she had him inside her she reached into her pocket for the Marlboro Lights 100s and her lighter. “Light two for us”, Jane begged, this time it was her voice trembling. Jason did as he was asked, trying not to move too much despite her slow dance. Lighting both, he placed one in her lips. “Mmmmm ” was her response as she drew deeply on it, and turned to fill his mouth with her exhale “how does it feel?” she whispered seductively. “Like I am one with you at last Miss…I mean… Jane”

He took a long puff himself, his head now bowing a little with the headiness of the nicotine rush, and she slammed her hips against his with teeth gritted. “You know what I have done to you don’t you Jason? I have changed your life forever. I have turned you; like a vampire; made you one of us. We are now both in its grip. Nic…o….tine . Feel it’s caress; savour it. We have communion with it”

Jane laughed huskily. “Fuck me Jason Peters, my handsome sssssssmoke slave”

The athletic figure inside her lifted her against the wall , and this time both her legs wrapped around him as he penetrated her even more deeply, his face buried in her fur clad breasts as he heard her cigarette sizzle above his head.

It was protracted. Violent. Beautiful. Evil.

As she slipped to the ground ; satisfied for the first time in two months, she took a last drag on the cigarette, eyes closed and lips smiling. She exhaled the last luminous blue stream vertically into the night and Jason watched ; smiling too. He realised then that despite his many conquests at college, he had actually never experienced anything remotely as passionate before. Though he had had sex with dozen girls before; only tonight had he truly lost his virginity; and gained a lover who would be his Mistress forever.

It has all happened so quickly; suddenly. Truly the words had meant something….she may have given him a death sentence but it was a valiant one; until that moment he knew he had been a coward all his life. And now for his courage all his fantasies about her had come true. She was as bad and beautiful as she looked; and the reason she always looked like she was sexually aroused when she smoked was because she was.

Jane slipped her phone number scrawled in dark red lipstick on a piece of paper into his pocket as he dressed himself.

“Call me sometime Jason. I have to get back inside before my friends come out. And you…you are with someone?”

“Just some friends from college Jane. A girl….but nothing serious…I…I don’t think anything else will be as serious as that ever again”

Jane smiled, and kissed him on the cheek; her smokey breath starting to arouse him again. They embraced firmly and kissed deeply once more.

Then Jane broke it, put two fingers to her lips then his, turned and walked down the alley to the theatre alone. He just watched as her full blue fox flared behind her as her boots stabbed the pavement. She turned and waved another kiss at him; lighting another cigarette. Then she was gone. Jason collapsed against the wall, closing his eyes with satisfaction. He opened them again; smiling, as he saw the ethereal essence of his former teacher hang in the cold air. Jane took four deep drags and threw the cigarette away. She opened the theatre door, biting her lip and closing her yes again at what she had done; and how pure it was for both of them.

Then she abruptly came to a halt as in front of her stood one of her colleagues, hesitantly, at the foot of the staircase. The girl , in her probationary year as a teacher, looked nervous.

“Is the play finished Elaine?” Jane asked, as she heard the door open behind her, and caught with a glance Jason walk into the gents washroom. She looked back at Elaine. She watched him too.

“No no…its still on…I just volunteered to come and see where you were….everyone was worried” She fidgeted with her glasses, and with her golden tressled locks.

“Oh I am so sorry Elaine…I just wasn’t enjoying it and …well you know…I needed….”

” …a cigarette…” Elaine finished.

Jane Matthews mouth fell open for a moment before she gathered herself . She had seen. They had been seen.

“Nice looking guy. Really handsome….” Elaine said, red faced and staring at the floor.

She looked up.

“Jane…I….I mean….I ….would you….oh dear how do I put this. I have always wondered…I mean it just looks so fascinating and I have always avoided it …but…well I was wondering….I never tried it see; and I always like the boys who do…you know how it is… and well I don’t want to show myself up and well…and I ….well there is another 15 minutes of the play left; and well you always have to go out on your own to smoke…and well I really was thinking well maybe I would maybe…if..”

“Elaine” Jane Matthews said firmly. “Would you like to join me for a cigarette?” If we have fifteen minutes its time. Are you sure it is what you want?”

Elaine looked over at Jason Peters as he sailed quickly up the stairs in a few three step bounds.

Elaine Gregory looked at Jane Matthews.

” Yes” she said purposefully ” I would very much like to try a cigarette.”

“Come with me….” Jane said smiling; her gloved hand invitingly outstretched……….


Jason Peters took his seat after moving his way through the darkness apologising where necessary, and reclaimed his seat next to Jemma St. James. He smiled at her as he sat down, and she looked at him perplexed. “Have you been ill Jason?” she asked, as the three other friends too looked over.

“Sshh watch the end, ” Jason said; conscious of the disturbance he had caused.

They sat back; but Gemma couldn’t cocentrate on the play any more. There was a familiar mix of scent on the air; on Jason. It was Chanel parfum yes; which she often wore herself; but then a smell which filled her nostrils and sent a shudder of fond recollection down to her stomach; butterflies aroused. It was cigarette smoke. He reeked of it.

Gemma’s heart beat fast. Could Jason Peters be a smoker??? She had been at college with him a year, and never even suspected it. They wre all grade A students and grade A sudents were to intelligent to smoke weren’t they? There were indeed few students at college who did smoke; and those that did were part of a group she was fearful of…even if a little excited by. They wre rebels; artists; freaks. But for Jason to be a smoker; well that sent her heart pounding with fear and anticipation. Could it be true?

“Jason” she whispered “….have you been smoking? You’re not a smoker are you? How long?”

Jason looked at her from under his fringe in the darkness, a glint in his eye she had never seen before. “I have been smoking all my short life” he said cryptically.

She turned away; nervous of Jason’s stare, but also her heart was now beating nineteen to the dozen ; pounding a drumbeat in her chest that made her want to join the dance.

She had not had a cigarette since her first boyfriend had taught her to inhale some seven years before. But her parents had gone beserk and forbade her from seeing him again as they had seen the spectacle outside the corner shop as they had driven past one foggy night. They did not speak to her apart from brusque commands for weeks, and finally she had broken down in tears and promised them she would never smoke again. She had put Alan Phillips out of her mind for good; though this had brought the memory flooding back of her first encounter with a boy of her own age; they had kissed and he had passed the smoke into her lungs. How excited she was then; and now it had flooded back. While she liked Jason Peters, she hadn’t really found him sexually attractive; but she did now. He had a dark side; and she was already finding herself being seduced by it.

She didn’t speak another word to him until they got to the pub nearby after the play. They entered through the small crowd of smokers gathered outside shivering in the cold, and she was glad to have her grandmother’s old seventies black tightly waisted faux fur, as they made her feel cold to look at them. She looked at Jason; who had not spoken a word to any of them, and the others were engrossed in arguing about the performance.

“I like the smell of smoke Jason” as they waltzed through the haze that hung outside and she breathed it in with fond memories. “Can we come outside when we get our drinks?” she said eagerly.

Jason looked and flashed her an evil smile. “Sure” he said simply, and waved over at Jane Matthews who was getting in her friend’s car across the road. “Wow you know her? Gemma asked. “What a beautiful coat. She is amazing. I like my fur but that is incredible. So glamorous” How do you know her?” “She was my teacher ….” Ben said grinning “….yes she is a stunner ain’t she?” He placed his arm around Gemma’s waist and her heart skiped a beat. “I like your fur too he said; and you’re prettier than her” he whispered as they entered the pub. Pretty was the word. She certainly wasn’t as beautiful, or as sexy…but he felt that she was keen to learn.

After the round was got in by Jason; he turned to the others. “We are going outside…you joining us?” As he awaited their response, he placed six pound coins into the machine and pulled the drawer firmly at the marlboro lights option. The other stared in disbelief. Jason Peters was a smoker. Flushed with arousal and submitting willingly to this new side of Jason , this Dark Knight, Gemma grabbed under his arm. “See you out there”, she smiled at the others; which included her younger brother Ben.

Now Ben’s heart began to pound. His sister…a smoker? No no it couldn’t be; she was too lovely; too perfect; he idolised her. She couldn’t possibly even go out with a smoker. It couldn’t be.

“Come on” Rebecca grabbed hold of Ben and Liam’s hands and took them outside. Rebecca too could now come out of the closet, and put her gloved hand in her deep shearling sheepskin coat pocket with her fingerless gloves to reach for her own secret pack of Dunhill Menthol. She only smoked maybe once or twice a week; and as none of the others did never in front of them. Usually just a couple after college work in her bedsit alone with a glass of wine.

Ben stopped in his tracks as he saw Jason Peters lighting his sisters cigarette. He was heartbroken. His sister was not after all the sweet beautiful innocent thing he thought of her as. She smoked. Gemma inhaled as deeply as she could and held it. Once learned; never forgotten. her eyes narrowed and she exhaled high into the night perfectly; seductively. She spun on the spot in unbridled joy ; her long full dark hair cacading around the shoulders of her faux fur as it bounced back into place in the swirl of exhaled smoke. Jason looked toward her brother; and smiled wickedly. He knew from Ben’s expression he disapproved. Ben was in the first year at college, and already had a name for himself as the top athlete there. He revelled in the tears he could see welling up in Ben’s eyes. He had taken his sister; made him one of the dark coven. He may aswell have f***** her in front of him. He grinned , and leaned forward, his arm around Gemma’s fur clad waist, and let it slip to her bottom. Gemma moved toward him instinctively and made her orange tip sizzle next to Jason’s ear, then turned and kissed him hard, exhaling inside him. Jason held it for a few moments enjoying her warm tongue on his cold lips, and then exhaled full at Ben. “Didn’t know sis was so hot huh Ben?” What’s up? Don’t like her smoking? ” Gemma waited for his response, inhaling again on the tube which she kept to her lips to disguise her own evil smile. She looked at his pants. Her smile broadened. He may not approve; but she could tell he was as excited by the situation as she. And the little b******* had a hard on for his own sis did he? Hah.

Rebecca stepped in the difuse the tense taunting.

“Try one Ben. They are menthol; everyone likes menthol. Come on…be a devil…” she winked at him, tempting him with as much seductive charm as her 19 years had learned. .

Liam didn’t need any encouragement. He eagerly fumbled for one from her outstretched pack and she lit hers and his together.

“Go on Ben. You really don’t want to be left out do you?” she whispered to him, letting her exhale cascade over his face.

Ben hated smoking. But he couldnt help being aroused. His sister and this gorgeous blonde Rebecca, neither of whom he had ever expected to be smokers, flicked the ends of the long white tubes at their sides in teasing temptation. As Liam engaged Gemma and Jason in conversation about the play, Rebecca moved in for the kill. “Ben I thought you said you liked me? What’s wrong; you don’t like me because now you know I’m a smoker?”

A tear flowed donwn Ben’s face as he watched first his sister giggle an exhale as she chatted animatedly waving her cigarette, Jason Peters arms all over her, and then turned to study Rebecca’s perfect countenance to see her eyes narrowed with an expression of wicked intent illuminated in an orange glow just inches from his face. His heart pounded. She was beautiful And he wanted communion with her.

“no no…he said…that is just the problem….I always hated smoking…but…but I do like you because you smoke. Even more than I did already. Kiss me””

Ben didn’t have to ask again as Rebecca lunged at him; her hot mouth filled with the corruptive vapour, and when his mouth opened and she played just a moment with his tongue, she shot the thick smoke into his athlete’s lungs, smiling with the thought of what she was doing to him.

Ben St. James felt the nicotine course to his erection and it pressed against her soft shearling second skin. He broke off he kiss and exhaled. He was dizzy, and he didn’t feel sick. It felt good. He felt one with her. She felt good; better than he had ever hoped. He looked at her eyes twinkling a mischievousness he hadn’t seen in them before, and admired her beauty as she flicked her long blonde hair and took a deep drag on her dunhill again. The menthol taste was now overwhelming him. Rebecca tasted so fresh and the smoke was not the acrid invader he had always thought but a gentle powerful lover that nonetheless gripped him hard.

“More” he whispered, smiling as he watched her inhale and exhale again a thick jet into the night. Rebecca grinned her eyes glinting with black desire as she pressed her cigarette against his lips and her thigh between his as it slipped from her coat. She sighed with awe as he learned quickly; smoke billowing from his nostrils as his eyes closed with ecstasy. “You’re mine Ben St. James; you wicked boy”, and she collapsed into his arms, her cigarette behind his back as she felt his manhood against her, and they kissed deeply with the smoke again.

Jane Matthews smiled as she watched as she and her collegaue Elaine lit up cigarettes themselves in the stationary car opposite. She shivered in glee at her corruptive tapestry she had weaved and was growing into a beautiful tableaux on this cold winter night. “We had better get to the restaurant Elaine” we can smoke outside; Carlo will join us. “He smokes?” Elaine asked Jane just smled again. So did Elaine, pulling hard on her cigarette as she started the car into motion


Ben St James could not concentrate in the lecture hall all morning. He couldn’t wait to see Rebecca Simmonds at lunchtime. But for the first time in his life; it wasn’t just the feelings he had for her, or her looks. It was more. A hunger. He need her; craved her. The night before they had spent four hours just having sex and smoking between. Each time she lit up after one romp, he became almost instantly aroused again, and by the end of the night he had smoked ten cigarettes himself. He had no cough, no side effects. All that time he had feared it; he now knew that was just denial. He never wanted to fuck a non smoker again.

He was never so grateful for the end of the two and a half hour lecture. He had arranged to meet Rebecca outside the main entrance on the steps as their lectures both finished at the same time. He gathered his physics textbooks and hurried to meet her. As he climbed the stone steps to one of the most gothic of the Oxford college buildings, Rebecca he could see was stood alone, and already lighting a cigarette. She was wearing her expensive shearling again, and with long brown suede boots. She looked even sexier than the night before…less “studenty”. Her long blonde hair looked fuller and less unkempt; she had given it amazing crkscrew curls he saw as he got closer. As he rushed to meet her he put his arms around her waist inside the soft coat, and saw she was wearing a tight green and black hooped top which showed her breasts heave as she inhaled the smoke. He just got to her lips in time to get the full exhale inside him. Heaven. The nicotine spin was almost immediate; and straight away gave him an erection which he pressed against her thigh. “Easy Tiger” she said taking another seductive puff. He growled hungrily in her ear with gritted teeth and whispered “give us a drag Rebecca”. She smiled; knowing she had him completely addicted; and she loved the new bad boy desperation in his voice. As he drew heavily on the dunhill menthol cigarette her impeccably manicured nails held against his lips, she purred. “mmmmmm…Nice no?” “Nice yes. He drew again”I think I am addicted already” A rush of ecstasy came over her as this time she met his exhale with her lips; enjoying the completeness of her corruption of Oxfords finest rower, rugby player and athlete. Wave after wave of gushing ecstasy came over her, and made her already nicotine head spin worse….no…better.

Ben studied her face and hair. “You look well…beautiful Rebecca..different. Glamorous. I like the look; its sexy”

“My lecture was only an hour so I thought I would preen myslef a little when you left this morning. Glad you like it”

They paused, admiring each other nose exhales and periodically biting one anothers lips, giggling smoke in the cold.

“I got to have you now Ben. Take me my naughty hunny bunny…pleeeease”

“What here?” he said anxiously.

Ben St James. Girls don’t just wear long full coats to keep warm ya know. They hide a lot” Checking the coast was clear, he unzipped himself and entered her. She pulled the ankle length shearling that has been her eigteenth birthday gift from an ex boyfriend around her and closed her eyes, sending a thick exhale into the frosty air.

“Now slowly slowly Ben. The movement will give us away” Here; lets have another cigarette, she said, flicking the old one sexily with her nails and watching it tumble down the steps . With his back to the steps, Ben didn’t see the woman that was walking slowly up them , talking into a mobile phone. Rebecca placed two menthols in her lips and lit them. She shuddered with pleasure as Ben swelled and throbbed inside her. Smoking may after years cause impotence, she thought, but there was no doubting that short term a nicotine stiffened cock was awesome.

She handed Ben a cigarette just as Fenella Craven came alongside them. “Ben St James! You are smoking! she said in part horror, part disbelief and part envy of their embrace.

But Ben was long beyond redemption; and disguised by the soft sensual fullness of Rebecca’s mouton fur lined tan shearling coat, he felt no embarrasment either. She could never know as long as Rebecca didn’t lift her coat he was actually penetrating her.

“Oh yeah hi Mrs Craven. Yeah I just started smoking.” He gave her a slant eyed look and a heartbreaker smile, and whispered “want one? “

Fenella Craven was Ben’s rowing instructor; though her main subject was 19th century French Literature lecturer. She had taken Rebecca a few times, and was a little crushed that she had clearly misinterpreted Rebecca’s signals to her. Fenella was bi sexual, and despite her quite muscular upper arms from twenty years of rowing, she was actually very feminine. She loved french couture, and was as usual dressed in a Chanel suit and a vintage brown mouton coat over her shoulders against the cold, her long layered hair falling softly around them and own the front of the suit which gaped to reveal the cleavage given by excellent support of a french Mugler bra. Her spending sprees on clothes in Paris had caused a seperation from her husband, and while she hoped it temporary, she was enjoying herself in the meantime…with both sexes. Though it was inappropriate to encourage a relationship with one of her students, she had to admit she would be pretty powerless if anything should develop with Rebecca Simmonds. She felt bitter dissappointment at first at what greted her at the top of the steps. And now her star rower was smokin too. She was hurt and at the same time more than a little aroused.

“Hi Fenella” Rebecca said pulling hard on her menthol with a delicious tease in her eyes. You want to join us for a cigarette?”

Fenella’s heart banged like hoofbeats in her chest with excitement at the prospect. She had once smoked twenty years before and knew its allure well; tried to block it out of her mind for years. Then all those old French posters by Helmut Newton came flooding back; all those stunning women, smoking in long gloves. She looked at her hands. her black leather 3/4 kidskin gloves would look ssooooo good with a cigarette….so French. And she trembled all over at the thought of nicotine inside her again.

Ben started to panic as he could see that Fenella was wavering. Her initial disgust at Ben smoking had completely vanished, and she was biting her lip hungrily and glancing around. Afternnon lectures had been cancelled due to the snowfall, and there was nobody else in sight on the steps. She shook the snow off her boots, and said. “I would love one” . She walked across the stone steps to place her files and books on the columns opposite, and Rebecca whispered in Ben’s ear. Ssssh play your card right; don’t panic. Your dreams could ome true”

Ben had no idea what Rebecca meant; but he did at that moment know what Cleopatra’s grip was. She had him held frmly with her powerful control of her own bodily functions.

As Fenella turned back to them; she could see something was strange in the way Rebecca had to fumble to get her cigarettes from her pocket and hold the outstretched pack. Rebecca howver winked at her, and fenelal melted inside. She accepted and rebecca then flicked the lighter she held in the same hand into action. Fenella had to lean in close for the light, and her soft cold mouton padded shoulder touched Ben on the side of the face, as the end of her cigarette glowed in the tete a tete menage a trois. He moaned audibly, and as nicotine began to pump around her body bringing meeories and adrenalin flooding back with an evil caress, she smiled. He was inside her. She knew. She flashed a huge knowing smile at Rebecca. “You are encourageably wicked Rebecca Simmonds”

“I know Fenella. I am. I lurrrvvv your fur too” she purred, stroking it and exhaling her smoke to mingle with Fenella’s as it cascaded down her tweed and gold suit, a curl of smoke trapping in her tanned cleavage, and her huge soft mouton coat. Both exhales engulfed Ben and he almost came.

“I haven’t worn it for a couple of years, but that whole PETA thing seems to have died down now and its on the catwalks and well its vintage anyway and” fenella started babbling, feeling a little embarrased about Ben’s predicament. Rebecca stroked her face with her hand. ” You don’t have to explain Fenella…I love furs…though chickened out and went for a sheepskin with fur lining…..sssshhh its sexy….. I like it…..You have beautiful big eyes Fenella” she said, starting to move rhythmically on her steed.

Fenella looked into Rebecca’s eyes, and took a long puff on the long white menthol rod . Rebecca cooed at the sight of the cigarette in such elegant hand, and the awakened hunger of evil in the soul that she glimpsed in the older woman’s eyes, and began to groan quietly in ecstasy.

“Kiss me Fenella; please. I want….”

“Rebecca…”Fenella said helpessly herself. “This is wrong. So beautifully wrong…”

But Ben was helpless too, and she could see he was staring at the cigarette she held in her gloved hand aloft too. “Oh God why did I ever give up” she said aloud, and took a long puff. She exhaled as she met Ben’s lips, and she felt him melt as her fur envelped him. Ben was dizzy with feelings he had never known before. He was completely without resistance. The sensuality of furs, and smoke, and two beautiful women against him and inside the vice like grip of one, was overwhelming. He nearly passed out as he exhaled to one side and watched Fenalla’s tongue this time probe Rebecca’s . She broke it off, scanned around for people, and took an eye narrowing drag on her menthol. Again he nearly came.

Rebecca groaned with passion, and again moved rhythmically on Ben.

Fenella smiled; her morality evaporated into the ether of the blue smoke that softly surrounded them. “I am going to go to take these reports inside. Then I will be back. Extract yourselves from your predicament, here are my BMW keys. Go and sit in the car….we will pick up some chmpagne and cigarettes on the way to my apartment and do this properly.”

She flicked her cigarette down the steps, ran her gloved fingers through her thick brunette hair, and left a possessive cloud of her exhaled smoke lingering between them.

“Are you okay with that?” she said as she walked away, smiling, and Rebecca gripping the keys of her top range BMW in excited anticipation.

“I thought I was in control here” Rebecca giggled, then nodded furiously looking at Ben’s shocked eyes and feeling him shoot hot semen inside her.

“I think you will be missing rugby training tonight Ben, she said lovingly kissing him.

PART FOUR: The Hidden Curriculum

Jane Matthews stepped out of the smoke filled car and looked across at Elaine Phelps. She smiled, took another long puff on what remained of the cigarette in her gloved hand and dropped it, crushing it with her heeled boot. She exhaled through her nose and Elaine was transfixed as it drifted towards her across the car roof from the woman she idolised; who stood there smiling in the amazing blue fox coat, pulling its soft warm luxury around her face. Elaine also extinguished her cigarette, the fifth of her short “career” as a smoker; and smiled back.

Can we have another Jane? she asked. Jane Matthews grinned a wicked beam. “You are so hooked already?” she said, biting her lip with mischievous glee.

Elaine paused, looked down a little embarrassed for a moment, then regained herself, looked up and smiled:

“Mmmmm” she said confidently, “….I love it.”

“Well we may as well have another now as we won’t be able to smoke in the restaurant itself. Tell me though Elaine, why have you never tried it before?”

“Well it has always fascinated me but I guess I have never had the courage, or a friend that smoked….so…..well in such a sophisticated way. I think you are amazing Jane. I have seen the way men look at you. She looked at her drab little jacket. I would love to be brave enough to wear a fur too.”

“Well maybe I will lend you one of mine next time eh? Hell no what am I thinking….I only live a half mile away let us go and get you one. Lets see if we can’t do something with your make up too.”

Elaine looked thrilled; “You mean it Jane? I would love that”.

They got back in the car, drove to Jane’s apartment, and were back at the parking spot within forty minutes.

This time when they emerged from the car, it was Jane who looked admiringly at Elaine Phelps. Her hair cascaded down the back of the ankle length Blackglama touching her own leather pointed black patent heled Gucci boots, the only sign previously that Elaine Phelps had a yearning for glamour. Apart from her shoes Elaine Phelps had looked a wallflower.; pretty but timid. Jane had thrown Elaine’s pink mittens through the open window of the car laughing when Elaine had put on a pair of leather gloves with a patent cuff that Jane had given her to complete the look.

Elaine turned and exhaled from the cigarette she had lit herself, with a new confident look of a predator in her eye. Jane was pleased with her handywork. “My God Elaine you look so different; I can’t believe it”

“I feel different Jane; I feel sexy” Elaine purred as she covered her hand over the lighter she held outstretched to light Jane’s her cigarette dangling form now dark red lips.

As they were illuminated in the red glow, a clergyman walked by. He stopped. He looked longingly at the women as they completed the light, and watched as they exhaled, smilingly oblivious of him. Temptation never looked so beautiful he thought to himself. It was dark, Nobody would see. It had been 25 years since he had had a cigarette. There was nothing in the Bible about smoking. Why not. “Ahem. Ladies. I wonder if I might trouble you for a cigarette on this cold starry evening, that I may just relax and look towards God’s marvellous heavens?” he ventured, trying to disguise his excitement at the elegant women before him. Though in his forties, Max Fisher , Methodist minister had greying hair at his temples and longer swept back dark hair. He was a man who ensured a good female gathering at his services, though had taken a rather demure woman for his wife. But she was right now not in his mind. He wanted to take the sacrament of smoke once more, with this congregation, and his heart raced at the prospect of taking the white tube of wickedness to his lips once more. Jane’s eyes sparkled in the cold moonlight. Elaine looked at her, took a long drag on her cigarette and exhaled at the clergyman, directing the smoke at his white collar and watching as it rose up to his face. “Certainly you may ….it is allowed?” “Well you know how it is. It’s let’s say discouraged. But I used to smoke, saw you fabulous…if I may say…creatures light up and would really like one right now. I trust my secret is safe with you?” “Of course.” Elaine smiled as he took a Marlboro Light 100 from the pack she offered in her gloved hand. Max cupped his hands purposely clumsily over Elaines hand, enjoying the feel of the spikey soft mink that caressed her gloved wrist, the patent leather reflecting orange as she lit him, sheltering him form the non existent wind with the full drape of her coat as he bent.

Jane laughed as she watched her “student”. “You look like a vampire seducing her prey Elaine” she mouthed, smoke pouring from her lips and also engulfing the seduced stooped figure of the clergyman eagerly drawing on his own freshly lit cigarette. “ahhhhh…how wonderful a little of the pleasures of the flesh can be. I would think God understands that. No harm done eh? My my you do look like a vampire in that beautiful coat Miss” Max said, exhaling what deep down he knew was a vapour so profound in its corruption that his nicotine stiffened erection made him forget for a moment his calling. But for a few moments, he was pleased to indulge what he knew was another more primal commitment. Max Fisher was still a man after all.

“Now behave yourselves tonight ladies. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” he smiled. Elaine exhaled one last time in his direction. She would’ve shagged him on the spot. She knew given half the chance he would have wanted to too. It looked so incongruous a clergyman…and a good looking one…pulling on a cigarette with a naughty glint in his eye. “You’re a bad bad boy vicar” she said stroking his face with her gloved hand. But you are right of course. Just because we all enjoy a cigarette doesn’t make us evil after all does it?”

“Of course not, he lied through his teeth “even us smokers are God’s children aren’t we? Anyway thankyou kindly for the cigarette, and for such beautiful company on this splendid starry night. Have a good evening.”

As he walked off both women laughed under their smoky breath, Jane cupping her arm under Elaine’s, turning on their heels and walking toward the restaurant. “Well who’d have thought a vicar as a secret smoker? He looked quite sexy too didn’t he smoking?” Elaine smiled. “mmmmm” she said drawing on her cigarette again, and exhaling into the night.

Max turned to watch the women as they disappeared into the night, long furs cloaking out behind them, their heels stabbing the pavement with echoed clicks, their gloved hands flicking the orange glows held outstretched by their sides that sent his heart racing, He sighed and apologised to God for his momentary lustful diversion.

As the two women approached the restaurant door, the white shirt and leather jeans of Carlo struck altogether a different figure…though now less sexy…than the natty suited young fogey clergyman. He held the door open for Jane and Elaine, and breathed in the smoky ether that surrounded them as he placed his hand on the back of each of their furs, whispering “bella bella…. Beautiful coats ladies. Now it is like Milan in here!”

He clicked his fingers and beckoned the other waiter to set two more places at the long table where the other staff at the school where they taught sat open mouthed at the transformation of Elaine Phelps.

As they sat, Carlo taking their coats and putting them on the antique coat hanger by the side of the table, the other waiter pulling out chairs for them, Lydia Keith, the prim tweed suited headmistress smiled at them with a raised eyebrow. “You two are very late…we rather thought you weren’t coming. Why Elaine…you look fabulous. Simply fabulous…been shopping????” Elaine smiled at Jane. “Jane leant me her coat; I have always wanted on. And also I never have given much thought to make up and well…Jane offered …and well…” Elaine stuttered, falling back to her lack of confidence for a moment. Lydia was a kind woman, and didn’t want her embarrassed. She reached out across the table and held her hand tight. “You look simply amazing my dear. I wish I still looked as glamorous as you do. I don’t know why other women don’t make more of an effort these days, she said glowering at the disapproving looks from her other staff. Now sit, we have eaten starters already so Carlo would you mind getting the ladies an aperitif and some of that delicious air dried venison please” the headmistress asserted. “now did you ladies think the play as dire as I did?”

Jane sent her eyes skyward. “I am sorry Lydia. I had to skip the second half” she glanced sideways to Elaine. Neither had mentioned the scene which Elaine had probably witnessed. She didn’t react.

Much further intense discussion of the play ensued, mainly about the characterisations…which had been good. Jane kept her criticisms to herself about both the plot and the quality of some of the line deliveries, and also the general tedium of the concept.

Starters and aperitifs done, main courses ordered and washed down with copious amounts of red and white wine by all, meant some people, including Jane and Elaine, would probably have to abandon their car and get a taxi. But the night was yet young and Elaine was already kicking Jane’s heel beneath the table as the plates were cleared.

“I think you will have to excuse us for few minutes while we have a cigarette if you don’t mind” Jane said politely, and a little excited that she now had a smoking colleague in Elaine Phelps.

Ruth Mears was incensed. “Elaine!” she exclaimed with shock “you are smoking as well as becoming a fur whore?” A little too much wine. Disapproving looks in such company were one thing; but the word “whore” was a bridge too far. Everyone looked down. Jane Matthews glowered at the indignant Ruth Mears, but spoke softly:

“You may be the Union Rep here Ruth for which you have respect but there is no point in peddling the rest of the baggage which your political prejudices tell you to. If Elaine wants to wear a fur and smoke, then that is entirely her choice; as it is mine. Now if you will excuse us we are stepping outside.”

Carlo was putting the furs around Jane and Elaine’s shoulders as she spoke, infuriating Ruth Mears at the attention they were getting from not just the restaurant staff but the table of Oxford United football players at the table opposite. The exchange between Jane and Ruth was quite and restrained, but the simmering tension was evident only to those at the table. Jane donned her gloves and tapped a cigarette from her pack , teasingly waving it slowly and seductively in her gloved fingers. “Anyone else care to join us?”

Nobody moved. Jane and Elaine walked to the back door of the restaurant and into the walled garden with patio heaters and dancing tea light. It was beautiful. Carlo brought Jane and Elaine a glass of champagne and lit their cigarettes. “Compliments of the House ladies. You have added a real touch of glamour for us tonight. The gentlemen on the table opposite are footballers. They were very impressed by your entrance. Jane regretted sitting with their backs to them instantly. She had been oblivious of them .

“Really?” said Jane excitedly, exhaling down and glancing back through the window at the table, two of the men at which were getting up and donning expensively tailored jackets. Jane looked at the tallest man’s behind. The material and cut of his pin stripe emphasised his buttocks well .

The patio doors opened again and the two men , one with open necked white silk shirt and leather thing, the other in a much more conservative but couture Hermes tie, joined them. They were older than the other at the table, and clearly toward the end of their footballing careers. Nevertheless, they were both extremely attractive to both Jane and Elaine, the latter of whom began to shiver despite the sleek warm blackglama around her shoulders, trembling at the prospect of engaging the men. “Mind if we join you for a smoke ladies?” Steve Banner , ex Spurs captain and now player manager politely ventured. “Be our guests” Elaine said so seductively Jane stared at her in disbelief, as she took an eye narrowed pull on the Marlboro from her own pack Jane had given her form her duty free stash at her apartment earlier.

Ruth Mears watched from her table with gritted teeth. Jane was obscured from her view, but she could see her gloved hand flicking the cigarette flirtatiously as the handsome adonis in front of her lit a huge Romeo y Julietta cigar. Though Ruth Mears was a lesbian, she could not help admiring this man. As a fan o football herself, she knew who Steve Banner and Ukranian international Segei Smilov were. Her anger at the encounter was almost too much for her, and she snapped a toothpick.

None of the women at the table spoke except for Maths teacher Amanda Dreyfuss and the French teacher Helene Malpasse, who were busy talking to a male colleague who was dining with his wife and had got up to talk to them. The other four sat silent, watching as Jane and Elaine laughed and smoked with the most eligible bachelors outside .

Ruth broke the silence which but for her, was one of unexpected awe at their two colleagues, who wr by now laughing with the men , and lots of touching was taking place. Phillipa Jenkins almost passed out as she saw the Ukranian lean forward and take a long drag on the cigarette which Jane’s fur sleeve held aloft to his lips. “Oh my” she said audibly.

“I am sorry said Ruth Mears, to the whole table “ It think Jane Matthews is a trollop, a man’s plaything and I think with that disgusting fur and her chain smoking she sets a terrible example to the children”

Lydia Keith had heard enough. She had hired Jane Matthews to break the monotony of political correctness that she saw held the school in a vice like grip despite her own efforts to bring the children education not politik and social engineering. Lydia’s subject was history, and she knew enough about Nazi smoking bans, their warped animal rights beliefs and the Hitler youth to be worried about it happening all over again. She had hired Jane partly purely to challenge the narrow indeed value system she felt some of her staff held, especially controlled as it was by the Union rep Ruth Mears who she secretly despised.

She folded her napkin.” If you will excuse me ladies I just want to get something from my car. “

Lydia left the table as Ruth continued with her rhetoric. “I mean don’t you think she is a terrible example, for a teacher to be smoking? How can we explain to the children that smoking is so bad for them when we have teachers who smoke?” “What would you do Ruth?” Petra Zimmermann the normally quiet Russian and Latin teacher spoke up “start a pogrom rooting out teachers who smoke? Then purge the ones who wear furs or go foxhunting , then pretty soon you start on peoples sexuality “ she continued pointedly “and then their religion and race?” Petra stared at Ruth with cold eyes of someone from a Jewish immigrant family who had experienced such prejudice, and could feel hatred when she saw it. “oh don’t be ridiculous Petra” Ruth corrected her “ I am merely saying that fur and smoking are unacceptable in our day and age; we are supposed to be enlightened. We should be teaching children that such things are wrong. I mean do you know how many dead animals it took to make that coat. I think its probably made of polar bears.” Now it was time for Petra Zimmermann to grit her teeth. She knew the fur was fox and was astounded by Ruth’s ignorance. Ruth continued with statistics and horror stories about blackened lungs caused by smoking. Petra’s husband smoked. She loved he smell of his pipe, and was on the verge of getting up and walking out, but herself was now rooting for Elaine and Jane to have success with the gorgeous men outside. They were not her type at all…she preferred the mellow company of her husband and wished he was here right now. Already she was looking forward to cuddling up on the sofa and inhaling the aroma from his pipe. She said nothing else to Ruth Mears but continued to listen to the bullcrap. Ruth held court over the others while Lydia was gone, but Phillipa Jenkins continued to witness the world that had always escaped her, as Carlo took out into the garden another bottle of champagne on ice. “Oh my” she said under her breath again.

Lydia Keith pulled up the boot of her car. There it lay. She had always worn it to the car before going to the theatre, as she always had with her husband, who had sadly died some years before as the result of a climbing accident. He had always embraced such things, stared death in the face. She too had enjoyed white water kayaking, and ski ing with him. It was on a ski holiday in 1981 that he had bought her what lay in the car. The thing that reminded her of him. A tear came to her eye as she remembered fondly her trips to the theatre with him. How splendid and cavalier he had looked in his dashing dinner suit as he had lit her cigarettes in the days before she had given up nervous of colleague and parental pressure. And for the same reason she had only ever worn the glossy lunaraine mink ¾ swing coat that lay in the boot to the car. Never in front of her colleagues…”its not cold enough” she would kid herself, never admitting her lack of courage. But now she had Jane Matthews, a kindred spirit without fear of people perceptions, to inspire her. She put the coat on and closed the boot. As the fur swaggered around her, she looked down at her legs in the brown courts shoes that suddenly looked classily sexy with her tight tweed skirt. She took off her glasses and thrust them into her pocket. Lydia was not in need of them; she wore them only for authority. But now, tonight, she was ready to be a woman again.

Lydia entered the restaurant, Ruth Mears had her back to her. She could hear “blah blah blah” but her words were not worth listening to.

Petra and Phillipa had in the last half an hour gone from being mildly anti fur and anti smoking to having a sneaking admiration for Jane Matthews and her vices through Ruth Mears hateful rhetoric. They were in open mouthed smiles as they watched Lyida Keith, hair still in bun but suddenly looking as classy as they come saunter into the restaurant, wink at them, and float out again into the garden with a brown gloved finger to her lips.

Jane Matthews face beamed. “Wow!” she said “its stunning Lydia; you had it in the car?” “Yes said Lydia” I never quite get the courage to wear it though. Good evening gentlemen!” She smiled. “It is very nice fur…” said Sergei the Ukranian maestro offering Lydia a Sobranie black cigarette with gold tip from his ostentatious gold case. Steve Banner furnished her with a glass of champagne. Elaine’s mouth fell open as Lydia stooped to accept the light from the Ukranian’s solid old zippo. “….mys sister is coming to England next week. She ask me if its true the British are crazy about fur. I can say yes no? But in good way! She has many nice fur….she is beauty queen. But this one, this is very very nice Russian sable”. “no no…I think its mink said Lydia “but thankyou for the compliment.

“Actually….Jane steeped in “ The collar and cuffs are indeed sable is a stunning coat” “my husband bought it for me….he adored me in it. Thankyou Jane. Thankyou Sergei…I didn’t know the collar and cuffs were sable” she said knowing why now her husband had never revealed the cost to her. She pulled on the cigarette slowly and purposefully. Sergei Smilov’s erection throbbed in his tight suit trousers as he watched Lyida Keith….30 years his senior but everything he had dreamed of in an English lady… inhale a cheek hollowing drag to end them all. Her bone structure was no evident for all to see. She exhaled through the sable soft against her face. “You must have slav blood; you have beautiful cheekbones” he said, raising his hand to her face as she exhaled, and nicotine gripped her in its embrace once more, and made her legs feel weak, and her erogenous zones tremor. “Well thankyou…compliments will get you everywhere but I think I am old enough to be your mother ……isn’t he quite the charmer Jane?” Jane looked at him. Yes he was. Younger than her by just a couple of years, and Elaine clearly getting on so well with Steve Banner, she had thought about the prospects of bed with the athlete, but hey if he wanted Lydia that was cool with her. In any case, Jane Matthews still had semen inside her from the fuck of dreams she had experienced just a few hours before, and wasn’t greedy. Sergei put down his glass and excused himself to the WC. Jane huddled closer as they all remained standing, and glanced over at Steve Banner who was now swaying with Elaine on the tea lit dance floor patio to the Italian crooner that flooded the little courtyard from the music system Carlo had set up there. She placed her own glass next to Sergei’s. “wow Lydia I can’t believe you are a smoker” Jane said eagerly looking for her own lighter in her bag. But Carlo was there first. She swooned as she remembered the object of her initial wish to come to the restaurant. Her pupils dilated widely despite her eyes narrowing with the sting of her own smoke. “Thankyou Carlo” she murmured deeply. “join us?” “Maybe in half hour” he said…”we still have a large party who are waiting on their main course and its almost 11 20 now; we run very late tonight so I have to work a while longer”. He lifted Jane’s hand and kissed it. “bella” he whispered “you do magic here for us.” “He is gorgeous isn’t he Jane?” Lydia sighed, “closer to my age than the Russian lad” “Lydia, Sergei likes you. He wants you can’t you see the hunger in his eyes? Hey I don’t mind swapping but I can see something between you already. “ Lyida looked down at her cigarette that glowed as she flicked it, then held it aloft as she placed her elbow on her hip, and waved it. She smiled, took another cheek hollowing drag , her lips enjoying the caress of the cool gold filter. “Sobranie,” she said ecstatically “my husband liked me to smoke them sometimes. This is quite bizarre “ she said thoughtfully “it may indeed be fate…and he is awfully cute even though I am old enough to be his mother. Just then Phillipa and Petra emerged onto the courtyard. “wow it is so beautiful out here.” Phillipa cooed. Jane…may we ask you for a cigarette please?” Jane Matthews smiled. She fished in her pocket for her pack and held them outward. “I am a bad influence on you all in this school aren’t I?” , she smiled, flicking her lighter into action as the girls raised the long white tubes to their smiling lips eagerly.

Petra glanced around and looked back over her shoulder, exhaling through her nostrils and mouth like a trooper. That surprised Jane , who raised an eyebrow, impressed. “God that woman is enough to make a saint take up smoking” Petra said about Ruth Mears.

“Elaine is the one who is good at that” Jane laughed, and told her the story of the clergyman earlier.

“I think it’s terrible too” Penny Ford said leaning across the table to Ruth Mears. Look at her now…she’s got Phillipa Petra and Lydia on the fags….I have never seen the attraction of smoking myself; its disgusting” she burped. Ruth continued in agreement , trying to hide the disgust she felt for poor Penny Ford, who sat stuffing yet another mouthful of tiramasu and watching it dribble down her double chins. She gritted her teeth and looked out of the window with envy at the party that was now in full sway outside as the other two footballers were being introduced to Phillipa and Petra, and yet more smoke was added to the blue haze which hung in the light of the twinkling tea lights.

“Just LOOK at them Penny. That bitch now has those men smoking and it is important to their careers they stay fit; has she no shame? I am going to have a go at her before the end of the night”

“I think you will have to go out there though Ruth…cos it doesn’t look like they are coming back in “ Penny chortled as she reached for Petra’s profiteroles.

Petra smiled at Jane and Phillipa. She nudged Phillipa “hey look at Lydia and Elaine go” she whispered as the women danced among the flickering lights with Steve Banner and Segei Smilov. . She huddled beneath one of the heaters., and took a long puff on the Marlboro Jane had given her. “ooooooooh it is so not possible to give up smoking for good is it? I can see me having to buy a pack before the night’s out and then bang I’m hooked again. “ Jane smiled delighted at her growing cohort. Phillipa coughed a little.” I only ever inhaled a few times when I was younger and I got frightened. It was so nice….still is” she took from the cup of communion once more, her eyes closing with delight as her lips closed and she took her fifth inhale in just a few seconds. “easy “ said Petra…”you will be sick if you aren’t usd to it”. But Phillipa was hungry for it. He heart pounded as it pumped freshly nicotine invaded blood around her body. “No…it makes me feel sexy” she said, exhaling at the two other footballers, Mike Curtain and Billy Wade. Billy Wade spoke up “It makes you look sexy too” he ventured quietly”…you don’t look like a smoker and that makes it kind of …well…unexpected and nice.”

“Yeah I have always liked a girl who smokes too. Can I try another? “ Mike Curtain asked tentatively. “I shouldn’t encourage you” said Jane, who looked over at their player manager. “Oh let ‘em Jane…never did me any harm inhaling ten of these a day in my heyday” he said gesturing at the smouldering embers of his romeo y julietta as he pawed Elaine’s black mink that sparkled in the light.

Wicked delight made Jane’s body tremble as the two hunky young defenders leant forward beneath her for her lighter. She imagined them chained to her in the vice like grip of nicotine, coming off at half time desperate for a fix from her. She laughed aloud at her mischievous thoughts. “I will get you two in deep trouble with these things you know” Jane said exhaling over both of their bowed heads. Phillipa watched intently. “I love guys who smoke” she said. , taking another pull on her cigarette as he head spun out of control on the heady mix of champagne, wine and nicotine. “You want to dance?” Mike Curtain asked slipping his hand around her waist, and exhaling down his nose and through his lips as he spoke. Phillipa screwed up her nose. “phoaw isn’t he gorgeous” she asked Jane and Petra ,,,”do you mind?” They didn’t have chance to answer as the burly defender grabbed hold of her hand, removed his ties and took Phillipa to the patio centre, their cigarettes dancing at their sides as Phillipa walked with an enthusiastic skip.

Jane turned around as Billy Wade flirted similarly with Petra. She knew Petra was deeply in love with her husband, but seemed to enjoy the attention nonetheless. Her husband Joe was a really nic guy, who was a serious academic and would be pleased that she was having some of the attention he couldn’t always give her but knew she deserved. No harm would come of it. As she turned to go to the washroom herself and maybe order some more champagne, Ruth Mears blocked her path.

“I want a word with you…in private”.

Jane sent her eyes skyward, not in the mood for such a party pooper right now. Instead of entering the restaurant, she lit another cigarette. “Look at you. You are totally addicted. You have only just put one out.” Jane Matthews eyes became cold and narrowed. She exhaled full in Ruth Mears face. “You’ve been watching that closely huh? “ Ruth waved away the smoke and coughed in an exaggerated fashion. “I want to speak with you NOW!”

Jane surveyed the garden. At the bottom she saw a little gate that led to the alley where the staff at the restaurant parked their cars. “Okay…. come out back…say your piece.

Jane led the way, making sure another exhale floated over the shoulder of her fur past the bouncing raven bob and into the lesbian’s face. “hah” she chuckled to herself “… she is going to regret this….and my seductive charms have never failed me yet on man or woman” as she thought back to her times in drug dazed mispent youth when anyone would do.

As Jane closed the gate behind her she grabbed Ruth Mears hand firmly, and escorted her a full twenty metres down the dark alley. Finally she flung her against the cold wall, and watched as she gasped with shock at the cold against her backless thin inappopriate summer dress. It was cheap; chain store.

Spread eagling Ruth’s helpless legs with her thigh, Jane Matthews let the front of her thick blue fox pelts take up residence against Ruth’s crotch. “Is this what you really want? It is isn’t it Ruth?” Ruth watched helplessly as the end of Jane Matthews cigarette glowed, illuminating her perfect make up , evil but hypnotic eyes and full smiling lips. Lips that closed without exhale on hers. “ohhh” she murmured helplessly from her throat as she rubbed against Jane’s fur , enjoying the sensual touch of the full soft pelts on her naked thighs. Jane exhaled thick smoke into her without mercy. Ruth Mears said nothing. Her gyrating hips said it all. She repeated the dose, this time speaking softly as her aphrodisiac laden smoke invaded the other woman’s body. “Your problem is that you like it, isn’t it? And you are afraid of it too. I fascinate you don’t I?” Jane Matthews said as she caressed her breast with gloved hand. Ruth’s knees were weak; she had never felt anything as sensual as the fox fur against her nakedness; and the nicotine made her giddy. No wonder people smoke, she realised for the first time in her life. She almost wet herself as she succumbed.

“Its cruel …you’re cruel” Ruth Mears for a second regained some dignity, and said, objecting.

Jane took another drag, still pinning her to the wall. Enveloping her in soft blue fox and soft azure haze that hung in the air…..

Her caress turned form soft gentle touch to a fist and in one fell gloved clutch ripped Ruth Mears dress from her trembling body. “Polyester so doesn’t work for you Ruth. I’d rather go naked than wear it” Jane laughed, and lunged at Ruth again , her tongue probing gently in Ruth’s again smoke filled mouth. “Breath it in…you know you want too. Isn’t it making you feel nice?” Jane whispered seductively, at the same time grabbing a handful of fox fur and rubbing it between Ruth’s legs.

“Oh Jane” Ruth cried “I feel so ashamed. It’s so wrong…” But she had lost control. And this time it was she who tugged at Jane, pulling her toward her and kissing her neck and pawing at her breasts through the thick velvet dress. Soon she was climaxing, and Jane had to put her gloved hand over her mouth to stop her cries being heard by their colleagues, as Ruth stroked her sleek bob “beautiful hair” she moaned in ecstasy. “I think you had better stay over at mine. Take my coat. Jane ordered as she flung what remained of Ruth’s dress onto the frosty floor of the alley. Here are the keys to my apartment. It is straight down this alley, into the main street second left. Madison Gardens , apartment five. Put the jacuzzi on and I will make my excuses and leave shortly. I will bring another bottle. There is no shame Ruth. You have issues. You are in denial of waht truns you on. I am honoured you have chosen me to sort them out for you. Oh…and just one more thing……” Jane lit another long Marlboro and handed it to Ruth. Ruth was already enjoying her first nicotine rush as she accepted the cigarette willingly from Jane; her resolve in pieces as she enjoyed the luxury of the fox fur around her naked and cold body, and a smile emerging from the tears. Jane kissed her on the cheek as Ruth took her first ever drag from a cigarette “…. You are going to have to get used to this……… I only fuck smokers,” Jane said with wicked intent.

Ruth took another coy puff, smoke drifting from her silent smile, and she turned to walk down the alley as Jane had instructed. Jane watched her. The fur looked good on her; contrasting with her short but dramtic red spikey hair. She would enjoy the metamorphosis of Ruth Mears, she thought as the girl sauntered slowly and strangely elegantly down the lane, silent, exhale against the night sky illuminated by distant neon. Jane watched her disappear, then turned to rejoin her new coven. And after all; she could not be rude…she hadn’t spoken to Helene the stunning French mistress who was bound to be a former or secretive smoker, and the beautiful Amanda….all evening. And Ruth Mears wasn’t going anywhere.


Ruth Mears wandered slowly down the alley, as if suspended by some invisible puppeteer. She had lost all will of her own, and was naked beneath the deep pile blue fox coat that licked her bare ankles, sending delicious shivers all over her body. She flicked the cigarette at her side and watched the end glow , then raised it to her lips again. She closed her eyes, and inhaled. Another layer of resistance vanished as the nicotine held her in the firmest of embraces yet caressed very part of her ; a feeling of ecstasy she had never dreamed was possible. It was a thousand times more powerful yet tender than her best lover…male or female…had ever been. She followed in the footsteps of the rag doll dance of addiction. Now she was completely entranced, and had no desire left to resist Jane Matthews. She knew know why she had hated her so much. Now envy and hatred had no place in Ruth Mears relinquished body, and she was through with the self flagellation that such hatred brought to the soul. “If you can’t beat them join them” she said aloud as she exhaled another beautiful stream of blue smoke into the frozen night air; more corrupt thrills racing all over her as she revelled in her surrender to the vampire the had poisoned her blood.

When Ruth Mears was a teenager, all the boys she had had crushes on had succumbed not to her, but to girls that smoked. She had grown to detest the habit, seen it as the seductive tool of the over made up tart. Ruth’s first boyfriend , who she had thought would be forever hers, had come back to her first year college little flat with smoke on his breath and perfume on his neck had been the final straw. He had confessed under her interrogation that he had been with another girl, one he said “was everything she wasn’t…wild and free and full of passion” . Those words had killed Ruth Mears, and she had sought solace in the bosom of her lesbian flat mate; and had only had two drunken and fumbling encounters with men since. She had had seven female lovers, and sensitive and wonderful as they had been, Ruth had never climaxed so uncontrollably till a few moments ago in the alley. He had always detested the painted woman, the symbols of ostentatious femininity like furs, and smoking …because they gave women an artificial power over men. A man should want her for her, not for the trappings of seduction. But now all that had changed, as Ruth Mears herself had succumbed to the things that she had denied to herself all these years. Now she was hungry to make up for her foolishness.

As she stepped out into the brightly lit neon signs and shop windows of the main street, she fumbled in the pocket of Jane’s fur for the keys. Her gloves were also there. She took them out, and dangling the cigarette from her mouth, put them on. Taking the cigarette from her lips after another long draw, she opened her eyes to see her silhouette reflected in a shop window. It thrilled her to see the perfect illuminated exhale come for her previously virgin lips, and smiled as she shuddered as wave after wave of nicotine swamped her body. Jane Matthews had infected her with a glorious venom , she thought, and succumbing to it was sweet surrender indeed. She felt unearthly, like a spirit had taken her over. Just then she became aware that a couple were watching her.

“M..M…Miss Mears????” said 19 year old Julie Calver, staring at her transformed former teacher in disbelief. “Wow” said the boy at her side, who Jane took a while to focus was another of her ex pupils.

“Hi” Ruth said in a new deep husky voice she didn’t recognise as her own “you’re out late.” Ruth took a long puff on the Marlboro light in her gloved hand, and pulled the fur around herself so there would be no danger of revelaing her nudity.

“Phoaw Miss you look amazing, Paul Jacobs said , unable to control his excitement at the vision in front of him. His girlfriend in woollen bobble hat and drab washed out hoody sniffled in the cold and nudged her boyfriend in the ribs with a frown. “Miss I hope that isn’t real fur….and…and you’re smoking…that’s disgusting”

Ruth Mears took a long drag on the half smoked marlboro, exhaled a steady stream upwards and then looked at Paul and Julie with black eyes; her red spikey fringe falling over them putting them even darker in shadow. Paul’s erection jerked. She was amazing.

Ruth could see the boy was in awe of her.

“You smoke don’t you Paul?” she said, eyebrow raised. “yy…y…y…yeah sometimes Miss, Paul said excitement evident in his voice.

“Sorry it’s my last one, but you are welcome to share it with me” Ruth found herself saying against her will. Paul was held in her hypnotic gaze, and he couldn’t help himself. He took the cigarette from her outstretched hand and eagerly took three hard drags on it, enjoying the kiss by proxy, before handing it back to her. Paul savoured the smoke of his sexy former teacher in his lungs, oblivious of his own girlfriend, who stared in open mouthed disbelief disdain and at the same time awakening desire.

Ruth took anther puff on the white tube and narrowed her eyes at the helpless girl, and exhaled into Paul’s exhale; their swirling mix now floating towards Julie and engulfing her.

“Julie…I admire you encouraging Paul not to smoke…smoking is bad for you. But sometimes, as I have found to my cost, it’s the things in life that are bad that are also truly beautiful. Don’t judge him too harshly; especially when you have never tried it yourself.” Julie’s mouth turned downwards and tears welled up in her eyes. She had admired Ruth Mears; never expected her to be like this. She gazed at the fur. “Yes it is real Julie” she anticipated “touch it….then tell me a thing of such beauty is bad” Julie tentatively felt the fur, revulsion being replaced by curiosity. “Oh its so soft…….I never thought…” but then she recoiled. “It would look better on the animal though” “Julie; until very recently I would have agreed with you. But then I eat meat and wear leather, so I would just be a hypocrite wouldn’t I?” “But this…this is for vanity not for food or function” Julie appealed, shaking her head as she watched Ruth flick the cigarette into the street and exhale beautifully against the star spangled blue midnight above them. “But Julie; meat is not necessary either. And this coat is enchanting; it is like the animal has become revered…’s beauty will last a lifetime….. and the meat one eats? Its energy gone in just a few hours. Only now am I beginning to understand that. Fur has been regarded as beautiful by man for thousands of years…who are we to suddenly say it is so immoral?“ Ruth stroked the fur again, and so did Julie and Paul. Paul took out his own cigarette and offered one to Ruth. Ruth accepted, Julie still stroking her fur. “Julie” Paul said, a tremble in his voice “ would you please not try one with us? I love to smoke and want so much to share with you.” “Aww that is so sweet Paul” Ruth said as she saw the girl grow weak. “Again Julie…a little while ago…I would have gone beserk with Paul for suggesting you smoke a cigarette and pollute your body but now? Well how can I deny you this?” Part of Ruth Mears struggled inside to resist the wickedness of tempting the girl into this corruption; but that part of her remained gagged as tonight the song of corruption was to be sung loud among the dreamy spires, their silhouettes diffused in her exhale against the stars that twinkled through.

“Kiss her Paul….deeply…you know what I mean.” Ruth turned on her heels and bade them goodnight, watching as Paul put his arm around his girl who awaited the inevitable, a smile growing on her face as the tip of her boyfriend’s cigarette sizzled red. “You two make it seem so sexy….” Said Julie, aroused by the whole encounter. Paul paused, and looked one last time at Ruth Mears. “Miss” he called after her “about the fur…is it true what they say…no knickers and all?” Julie’s eyes glared at such laddish devilment in her boyfriend and she thumped him playfully. Then she turned to see if Ruth Mears reacted. Ruth Mears spun around 360 degrees, swirling fog from her smiling lips, and the answer made their mouths drop open as the glimpse was enough to confirm what Paul had never really expected. “Wow” he whispered; then turned to look his girlfriend in the eyes. “Paul…I think I want to be like her. She is sexy isn’t she…I know.” Paul took another drag on his Marlboro red and didn’t have chance to exhale as Julie’s tongue pride his lips apart and her lips clamped on hers until she took the toxic vapour inside her. She exhaled, eyes closed and felt the nicotine rush around her body. It was nice. There was no cough. No struggle. Her body immediately craved more. Paul’s erection stiffened against his girlfriend as his heart pounded at his sweet girlfriend’s lips closed on his cigarette and he saw the same dark look in her eyes as he had seen in the eyes of the temptress they had just encountered. There was a wicked twinkle in her yes as she exhaled over his shoulder. “you had better get a promotion at work Paul…that record store needs to recognise how hard you work and you now need a rise” she teased with a smile. “It is bad enough that you are going to have to keep me in cigarettes now…but I also want a fur for my birthday next month. I heard there are some good buys on ebay…don’t look so nervous. And wouldn’t you like me in bed with all that soft soft fur?” Paul turned her around and put her against the wall, his arousal now demanding relief as they became one ; nicotine coursing their bodies in unison. As he entered her, and she gasped, his body shivered all over. His beautiful girlfriend was now a smoker; something he had always secretly wanted but was afraid to tell her.

Ruth Mears heart pounded inside her body at the wickedness she had just revelled in. She stroked the fur over her breasts as she pulled the coat around her, her now ungloved hand enjoyed its sensual thickness. She felt warmer than she had ever felt before; more fulfilled than she had ever felt before. Something this god could not be bad; and if it was, then she was as bad as they come. Her gloved hand held the full flavoured Marlboro to her lips again, and the higher strength of the smoke strangled the life out of what was left of the old Ruth Mears. She stopped a moment to get her bearings and remember Jane’s instructions., then walked on, addicted and entranced, and in tantalising anticipation that the evening had only just begun. Soon she would be in Jane Matthews bed; and would be enjoying communion with the devils she had always denied herself; all her rotten torment and screwed up morality a thing of the past; expelled from her body through her baptism with every exhale.

Chapter Six: The Darkness

Ruth Mears perched herself on the edge of a stool and sipped champagne from the chilled glass. She stared at the open pack of Marlboro Lights 100s on the kitchen bar and shivered with delight. How foolish she had been to deny herself what it was she wanted all this time. Next to the cigarettes was a Chanel dark red lipstick; the lipstick of Jane Matthews; the woman she had until tonight despised; despised because she was beautiful, raw, honest, sexual, glamorous…al the things Ruth Mears wasn’t. Ruth knew now that all her frustrations, her left wing politik, the hatred within her…were all born of envy and fear of women like Jane.

Ruth picked up the lipstick, took off the lid, and turned it until its glossy deadly phallus emerged. She raised it to her own lips. She had never worn lipstick in her life; always thought of women that did as tarts; playthings of men. Yet she was attracted to women; hated herself for being attracted to painted women. But now she had had enough of living a lie. She placed the lipstick to her mouth. A faint aroma of perfume and nicotine, nicotine from Jane Matthews lips, drifted to her nostrils as she ran the point along her top lip. She shuddered in excitement. Then the bottom. She had watched women pucker; apply second and third coats to build stain and glosss. She did the same. It felt good. The fur fell from her neck on one side to reveal her tanned shoulder. She kissed it, leaving a perfect lip print. She moaned audibly at the sight, and at the gossamer touch of the fox fur on her thighs. She moaned rhythmically on the stool, enjoying the sensations and thought of herself painted. Regaining composure, Ruth reached for the open pack and placed a long white tube to her lips. Then lit it with the slender lighter that also lay on the marble surface. She closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply and felt the ethereal demon enter her again. Oh how could she have denied herself this pleasure for so long. Did she think she was going to live forever if she didn’t smoke? It was fear, conformity, and envy of those who corrupted themselves that had held her in pent up bondage. Now she was free.

She looked at the print of carmine on the cork tip of the cigarette. She smiled in delight. It was her lip print; her that was now the painted woman, and how she was going to enjoy the things that she had always denied herself this night; and for the rest of her life.

Taking the glass of champagne and letting the coat fall from both shoulders to her arms, she sauntered to the puppetmaster’s dance to the bathroom, and turned off the taps. The jacuzzi was full; and steaming. She would wait for Jane. Back in the hall she admired Jane’s eclectic Art collection. Stunning variety, originals, not the empty meaningless and cheap contemporary posters that decorated her own minimal flat. She ran her hand over a cold bronze swirling statue of an otter, muscles straining as it turned in imaginary water to hunt a fish. Again her eyes closed and she took a deeply inhaled draw on the white stick that had become an extension of her fingers that night. She would now forever feel naked without one; impossible to imagine life without it. She was reborn; awakened at last to sensuality and primal hunger; and knew for the first time that the adrenalin that was in her veins had inspired the sculptor to recreate the savagery of the otter in pursuit of its prey. She looked at the sleek and streamlined forms of the coursing greyhounds in flight as the wide eyed hare tried to evade them in the stylised Skeaping watercolour above. She lingered on he cold bronze for a while, then continued her survey of the other artworks. Horses, hunting, wild things; things she had ben alienated from all her life; things that now excited her with their beautiful savagery. At the end of the corridor was an original drawing that made her stop in her tracks. It was a beautifully executed image of a lady in a victorian bustle, corsetted tightly, n her lips was a cigarette held by gloved fingers. A veiled top hat did not hide the expression on her face; one of enjoyment of power over the two helpless younger women in her vice like grip of the reins which bound them too her. Ruth’s heart beat fast. She had never seen anything like this before; what dark world did Jane Matthews live in; what secrets of the human soul had she explored. Norma shuddered again in prospect of delicious discovery at the hands of her new mistress. She looked at the signature on the drawing, Sardax. Pulling the slipping fur back around herself, and enjoying its lick against her tingling thighs, she turned into the living room. She flicked her cigarette repeatedly in the crystal ashtray that glittered on the slate table. She collapsed on the huge welcoming leather sofa, and tucked up her legs into foetal position, taking a mink cushion to her breast. As she hugged it, she closed her yes, tilted back her head and inhaled from her cigarette again, writhing with sensual ecstasy as she exhaled toward the ceiling.

She looked at the huge flashes of deep red, pink and gold that cover the expressive painting of the Matador and Torro over the Cotswold stone mantle. Its colours and vibrant aggression thrilled her. Jane Matthews was from a different world to her; all around her was nature straining in its battle for survival; here was no fear of mortality and nothing her existed for mere decoration; everything she knew, had a meaning for Jane Matthews. There was an honesty and everywhere was violence and glory and passion and lust. The rest of the paintings in the room were erotic depictions of nudes; tasteful but each had trappings of fetishism; and also there were beautiful stylised fashion illustrations from the 1950s. The room was alive; citing , sensual. In front of the fireplace were thick sheepskin rugs in black and white, and marble flooring reflected the glow of the natural looking gas fire. And in this new world, Ruth Mears felt alive, and at the same time for the first time in her life relaxed with herself. Taking another last union with the cigarette, and breathing its deadly vapour hungrily into herself, she stubbed it out in the ashtray and closed her eyes drifting into light sleep as she awaited her creator.

Forty five minutes later she awoke, stirring in the fur and running her fingers through her tousled spikey dark red hair. She rose to her feet and was pleased to find herself reanimated by the touch of the fox all over her naked body. She pulled its plush collar around her face and smiled, and walked into the kitchen for another cigarette and glass of champagne,. As she did so, she caught sight of herself in the window pane. “I look like a high class whore” she said aloud, and thrilled at the prospect of it; laughing with her new huskiness. She flicked the sound system on and wondered what earthly pleasures that would add to the mix.

A haunting choral gave way to a thudding bass that reverberated to Ruth’s cervix through her flesh, And she paused on her way to the kitchen to move rhythmically against a column. She didn’t know what the music was, but it was dark and deep and made her feel alive and celebrate the death of the uptight moralista she had been until a few hours before. Continuing to the kitchen she poured another champagne from the bottle that she lifted from the ice bucket, and before putting it back she placed it between her legs, gasping deeply at the pleasure and shock of the cold against her nakedness, and gradually moving it up the front of the tanned body that begged for its contact too. Her now desperately erect nipples strained to feel the caress of the fox furs that licked them, and she reached for another Marlboro light as she reclined over the marble surfaces and lit it. Rising again she floated to the window and stood, naked and smoking and cloaked in the power of the fur , and again raised the cigarette to her lips. She couldn’t see Jane Matthews approach the prestige apartment conversions. Jane looked up at the window and smiled as she saw the hauntingly sexy silhouette lit only by backlighting and the orange glow of the cigarette she held to her lips. “She’s alive; alive I tell you” Jane laughed as she fumbled for her spare keys between the loose stone in the wall opposite the Georgian buildings. It was freezing, and Jane was shivering in just her velvet dress, though the taxi had dropped her right there. She couldn’t wait to get into a hot tub a hot fur or a hot girl; whatever came first. Shame about Carlos she thought, but hey it had been less than 6 hours since she had had a guy, and somehow his semen still felt warm inside her.

As Ruth swayed rhythmically at the window smoking he cigarette, in full view of the world, she listened to the strange words of the song that shuddered into her body as nicotine coursed her veins; and exhaled through teeth gritted in sublime pleasures of her new flesh.

Sing, child, of right and wrong Gimme things that don’t last long Gimme siren, child, and do you hear me call?

(sing) (sing) Hey now, hey now now, sing this corrosion to me…..

…..Hey now, hey now now, sing…

On daze, like this In times like these I feel an animal deep inside Heel to haunch on bended knees Living on if and if I tried, Somebody send me… please…

Ruth Mars just lit out a gentle sigh as Jane Matthews wrapped her arms around her from behind and took her cigarette from her. Ruth’s eyes were closed as she heard the thing sizzle in her ear despite the haunting depths of the song that seemed to hold her transfixed. “It’s my favourite song” Jane whispered the full exhale interrupted by her softly moving lips. Ruth’s eyes opened; her pupils dilated with the inebriation of the moment, and opened her mouth to drink hungrily from the thick white plume of smoke that exited Jane’s smile, as she pulled her velvet body inside the coat too. “you’re cold” Ruth whispering the exhale back, and pulled up her dress to press her warm skin against her colleagues. Jane took another deep drag on the cigarette, and tongues gently probed the smoke filled darkness in warm communion. “I like you in lipstick” Jane spoke biting her lip, and clawing at Ruth’s body through the soft blue fox pelts. They caressed each other, smoke devils frighteningly silhouetted as they writhed upright in animated deep fur embrace against the window to the gaze of a passer by who stood transfixed below. But the women were oblivious to anything but the pleasures of their own corrupted flesh. Another song no less primal, thudded from the sound system in Jane Matthews apartment. The words this time Ruth Mears think she understood; as another jet of burning pleasure and pain from her dark seducer’s lips seared her lungs

And the devil in the black dress watches over My guardian angel walks away Life is short and love is always over in the morning Black wind come carry me far away… …with a gun for a lover and a shot of pain inside you run for cover in the Temple of Love