SmokinMen.com

Mike - Site Administrator

Sat, 19 May 2012 03:58:41 +0000

I've beren following the thread labeled Btjeff and cannot overstate my concern about Mike's lack of involvement in the site for the last week, which is very unusual. I fear he may be seriously ill, or the victim of a bad accident, or even dead. He has previously expressed some remorse over not having established friendships with other site members. If anybody on this site knows how to contact him, by phone or in person, I wish they would do so and report back to the rest of us as to what's going on. The smoke fetish community would be much the poorer if he ceases to be involved in it.

Smokingfeelsgood.com Has A Smoking Fetish Forum Now!

Fri, 18 May 2012 23:09:27 +0000

Hi guys,

I love this site, but I also love visiting the site smokingfeelsgood.com to read the comments about...well, how good smoking feels. It's funny how exciting it is for me...just reading the posts gets me hard, and I jerk off to it sometimes. The site moderator up to this point has carefully guarded against x-rated content and expressions, but has now made provisions for those of us who are turned on by it! Just follow the link to the "Smoking Fetish Forms." There's even a section specifically dedicated to male smoking fetishes. I'm not trying to detract from the fun on this site, either, but I think some of you might like that site, too!

Reds Smokers Meet In London

Fri, 18 May 2012 15:13:51 +0000

Any Reds Smokers want to hook up in London sometime for a heavy smoke session?

C2C

Fri, 18 May 2012 00:43:33 +0000

Anyone wanna can smoke add me on Skype: lungfiller.

Hardcore Smokefuckin Livin - A Damager's Pig Fetisher Tale

Thu, 17 May 2012 23:53:21 +0000

INTRODUCTION:

Don't think I'll ever be a 6ppd smoker. Have done it a few times and I feel so shitty the next day that it kills whatever pleasure (and it WAS HOT) that I had the day before. So I think I'll always be a 4 to 5 pack a day man. Which is still fuck-load of smokes, but not overdoing it either.

My husband smokes about what I do, a standard 5 to 5 1/2 packs of Camels. We both were 3 ppd men when we met 13 years ago, but have increased over time. A lot has to do with both of our absolute fukking obsession with cigarettes -- we just got to have one pumping through our bodies all the time. Its also a big part of sex. We usually smoke a half pack each during sex. We've become slaves to our smokes. He's got a nice sized belly as well. But he wants to lose weight while I'm happy to have a beer belly. What the fuck, life is too short.

But he's not a smoke fetisher, which totally sucks, but something I gotta live with. He gets pissed off when he sees me on smoke sites. Doesn't understand and doesn't want to. So I do it mostly when he's watching TV, making dinner or in bed. Sucks, but such are the compromises of marriage...

I drive a delivery van, mostly food to restaurants, so I got weird hours but can smoke all day long, wherever and whenever. The closest I get to a non-smoking area is the loading dock, and that's where all the waiters and cooks smoke anyway, so I never have to put out my cigarette. Its my own van so I can chain with the windows closed, overfill the ashtray, and keep three packs on the dash and two cartons under the seat without anybody asking me about it.

I was prescribed Spiriva last year for mild COPD, which didn't surprise me. I like the inhaler, which I use when I'm feeling really short of breath due to heavy lifting at work. My partner is still not on it, although I can see by his heavy wheezing and cough that he probably would benefit from a hit now and then.

we've been tweaking since junior high, both of us. (He's Jim, by the way.) I grew up in Jersey where there as always plenty weed around, easily accessible for us athletes. And then living in Boston I had a buddy that supplied me with excellent coke for many years. We were using pretty heavily when Jim and I lived in Boston, which is one of the reasons we've gotten so addicted to smokes I think. Just gotta be doing something with our hands all the time. Down here we have gotten hooked into crystal meth pretty good, but try to limit ourselves to a few weekends a month. Rest of the time we stick to smokes and booze!

Smoke sex is what we do. No other kind. We have sex almost every night, after a couple drinks. We're both big drinkers -- I plow through a six-pack and Jim has 3 to 4 vodka tonics during dinner and TV. If we're not tweaking, we also do a couple hits of Rush when we start stroking. And of course a constant stream of cigarettes. Poppers are great at opening up the lungs and other blood vessels and my cigarettes seem to have more of a bite to them when I'm using poppers. So I'm pretty addicted to my nightly hits of amyl nitrates as well.

After sex we usually sit up for a couple hours coming down off our high, chain smoking until we call it a night around 3 am. I gotta be up at 7, so its a short night for me, but I got my smokes to keep me going. Four hours of sleep and 20 hours of non-stop smoking.

Its a great fukking life and I wouldn't give up my smokes, my drinks or my drugs for anything -- it makes life GREAT!

FUCK ME, that is gonna be one hell of a drugged up orgie holiday weekend! we are so fukked up man, with drugs and booze and smokes. It's almost like killing yourself fast, and that's the only way to do it. Nothing is better in the fukkin world then using the shit that makes life great. I tested the poppers in a couple smokes tonight and had a raging hard-on through dinner. Kept firing up one after the other and Jim had no fukkin clue. I was drinking and eating and smoking so fast he thought I was on speed. Offered him one of my smokes drenched in Rush and he got hot pretty fukkin fast. Had one hell of a smoke sex bang-up on the kitchen floor. He's sleeping it off now and I'm boned up and looking for action on line.
Havin a great one! GET HARD, GET STONED, GET FUCKED!

Fuckin have no idea how tweaked we have been since Thursday afternoon. I've fuked his ass 12 times. We went through three bottles of vodka and almost an entire tequila. Four cartons of smokes.8 bottles of Rush. And $250 worth of crystal meth. I am FRIED to hell and back. Can hardly breath. Coughing up my lungs. But fuk was this a great weekend. Did not sleep until mid-day today, Sunday. Out on the beach. Burned outside too now. But fuk what an amazing way to spend a couple of days. Tweaked out and fukking like we were 18 year olds. Feel like shit now, but goddamn it was worth every goddamn brain cell and chunk of lung that got fucked. Not sure when I will recover, but I don't give a shit.
Damn that shit is good.

Working the rest of the week so we've been living on tobacco and poppers since Monday. Lungs are totally fucked up and the minute I put out a smoke I'm jonesing for the next one. I fukking overdid it this weekend and I'm still coming down. So I compensate with EXTRA HEAVY hauling (6 packs yesterday) and extra boozing at night. But next week is vacation -- taking a booze cruise so as of Friday I'm gonna be tweaked for 10 days. FUCK I CAN'T WAIT!!!!

Back to ya after the cruise is history ...

The rest of this story parts will be continued only on BTJeff's Story Board - if interest for more is indicated.
http://www.btjeff.ne...ewforum.php?f=2

Pipe Smoking / Training In London

Thu, 17 May 2012 10:45:47 +0000

I'm looking for someone in London / South East England to turn me into a hardcore addicted full time pipe smoker. I smoke a pipe already but not regularly. Get in touch if anyone is interested.

Amsterdam Smoking Hotel Room

Thu, 17 May 2012 10:30:21 +0000

Hi guys,

I'm looking for a hotel that is still smoke-friendly in Amsterdam. It seems most hotels in the city are completely smoke free. I enjoy the smell and have too strong an addiction to go outside every time I need to smoke. Any recommendations?

TL

First Cigarette After Attempt To Quit

Wed, 16 May 2012 20:22:09 +0000

Much to my surprise, some people here make an attempt to quit smoking. One can always try, I guess... Or one could simply admit that nicotine is more powerful than addiction added to this fetish. Anyway, I am really curious what it is like to smoke a cigarette after quitting. What does it taste like? How soon, how strong returns the addiction? What made you smoke again? I am looking forward to read the replies of those poor bastards who were not able to overcome their addiction. A failure, a weakness, I admire...

Camel Filters In Uk

Tue, 15 May 2012 22:10:02 +0000

Any other UK bods having trouble finding Camel Filters (yellow pack)? Tesco, Sainsbury, Morrisons, Asda all stopped. Most corner shops also. Even specialist tobacconists near me can't get them any more. HELP!!!!!!! Seriously!!!!

Smokex's Unusual Body Hair

Mon, 14 May 2012 07:10:50 +0000

SmokeX's Unusual Body Hair:
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Considering many have asked, am posting this as an open letter to anyone who requested in order to satisfy the curiosity some have concerning the unusual density of my body hair.
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Am naturally rather average above the waist, but below, it's much thicker and... awkward, actually. Guys tell me all the time "Oh, don't shave man!" and the only times I was ever fully shaved, it was by special request (and I mean ULTRA SPECIAL request because it's a real bitch) of someone very personally involved with; (it starts growing back literally seconds later and is more than marginally uncomfortable and bristly while it does so). Bearing that in mind, here's another point to consider: Climate. When you add a humidity factor to the sheer THICKNESS of some men's hair--anywhere on their body--like mine--the result can be something I like to call 'perpetual perspiration.' Sounds like a turn on to some of ya, don't it, lol? Well, I get turned on by it too, but in the real, rational, clothed world, that means never leaving the house without a shirt that you can't wring out within the first five minutes being outside.
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It all starts with the hair on my head. I've never met a new hair cutter that didn't comment on how incredibly thick and dense my hair actually is. You can grab me by it, and swing my whole body around with it and it wouldn't even hurt. Because it's so thick, it regulates not the temperature on my skin, but this humidity factor and I sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, SWEAT! Even right after a shower, in the Summer, in the Winter, my body glistens with it as it literally pours off of my temples, pits, just everywhere. If I put a shirt on too soon, it's history before I'm even out of the bedroom. There's been times when I've used up THREE shirts (t-shirts) before I can put on the 'SHIRT' shirt I intend to wear that day. I finally figured out that I have to wait after toweling and 'drip dry' a little before even thinking about putting clothes on. I'll wear a terri-cloth robe for a few minutes, and then a lighter robe for another few minutes, and then just hang for an additional few minutes before making a stab with a shirt that I pray I won't sweat through before I walk out the door. And I have to have back-ups!
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All of this takes more time than anyone would believe. Ideally, if there is someone to serve me breakfast WHILE all this is going on, a nibble here, some reds and a sip there, pant-pant-pant, I don't have to get up three and a half HOURS before I have to actually leave to be somewhere like I do when I have to be alone. It took DECADES to discover a simple haircut I could live with--and I had to design it myself as no barber could ever get around the unusual nature of this unreasonably thick hair. For my own comfort, I prefer it crisp and SHORT even though nearly everyone who knows me says it looks great to leave it longer, but they have no idea the amount of shampoo necessary to wash it, conditioner to rinse it and just the right touch of gel needed to keep it remotely tame enough to be presentable in a business situation. After all of this, I usually have to wear a ball cap for about 20 minutes, tops, and presto, it looks just as natural and untended as can be. It's a little similar to the old show business adage that it takes 20 years to become an overnight success.
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Now about the bush, pits, ass areas: (Sounds like a president and a few cabinet members, doesn't it?) As much as I wish it didn't bother me to let it just grow out, I have to say it does because it contributes to the tsunami of sweat that's already endangering my t-shirt, threatening to soak into a dress shirt, and it's just not feasible. Chest hair is less of a problem. Below the belt though, it can feel like a muggy monsoon of moisture invading any underwear, jeans, pants, slacks or otherwise I happen to be wearing. The fur just saturates with it and I don't even want to discuss how much toilet paper it takes (if there's enough on the fucking roll to begin with!) to suitably wipe where necessary. I'm telling you guys, my ass hair can hold a five pound dingleberry without me being aware of it, and all I have to do to ruin my day (and any shorts--never mind commando--which I LOVE) is to engage in the simplest act of sitting down... you follow me?
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So: If you're into only 'all-natural,' 'full-bush,' 'the more the merrier' body hair, turn away and stop reading now because I do trim it--I know, the horror! The horror!--but only because I really, really have no other choice. Be aware there is no 'manscaping,' no actual shaving--no razor blades were harmed during the making of this film--I PROMISE. What most guys will see, if meeting me in the flesh, is just a pared down version of what it looks like in its' totally natural state. On occasion, as is the case right at this moment, I am allowing it to 'go to seed' so-to-speak and let this garden's weeds grow like beanstalks for specific reasons. One of those reasons is photographs I've agreed to have taken.
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One of the reasons I remain on the West Coast is the relatively steady climate. I can bear it here. Am from the East Coast originally and when back there, my equilibrium is thrown out of whack easily. Florida? Fuggeddaboutit! South Carolina--where my brother retired to? I want to say "In your dreams!" but yeah, I'll tolerate it. New York City? Yes! Willing to suffer for there. New England? If I have to. When driving cross country, my body gradually gets used to the changes in regions and it's easier, but plop me on a flight somewhere and I never know what kind of reaction to expect because the change is so sudden. For the record: Yes, I do fantasize about sweaty guys doing hot, sweaty hard physical labor under the hot, baking sun, but because of the normal man's sweat out-put under those conditions. I do actually engage in the very sweaty, greasy MAN'S WORK of masturbation I'm always going on about (up to and including the occasional wedgie causing skid mark--piece of cake!)--but at great cost. When someone I know can tell I've recently been trimmed (and I can't reach all these places myself guys and it's also very hard to find other open-minded men who don't mind helping me out) there's invariably an exclamation point in their voice when they ask "What did you do that for?"
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The good news to anyone outraged (and yeah, 'violation' of masculine code) is that, similar to my beard, you can almost hear it growing back in like cornstalks in Kansas when it's quiet--it's that fast. After just a week, it'll start to irritate me again, even though it's considered quite a perk to some of you who really get into all this thick bush. Just to finish this topic off, let me point out to those who believe that I'll lose this magnificent mane to gradual baldness in the years to come: My glorious Y chromosome came from a man who held an ultra thick head of Cary Grant-like silvery hair until the day he died at the age of 78. So there!
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Hope you found reading this as amusing as it was to write it, but it's the honest truth and it's just... weird, I know.

Dangling A Lit Cig Whilst Working

Sun, 13 May 2012 18:30:05 +0000

Notice that some smokers love to dangle a lit cigarette while working, think truck drivers, mechanics, construction workers especially the blue collar types of work. Think it looks so cool and hot, especially if they are in some sort of uniform. I try to dangle whilst smoking but thinks it takes a bit of practice. I can't do it as long as some others as smoke gets to mine eyes. Those who are so good at dangling can even flick ashes using their mouths. Do you guys love to dangle? Do you like to dangle and smoke and work?

Also, I quite enjoy dangling and smoking and stroking or fucking.

When dangling, think one would smoke differently, ie without deep inhales but simply short inhales in the mouth only, kind of like smoking a cigar. Is that right? When doing short inhales, seem to be able to taste the tobacco better.

What are your thoughts?

Smoking While Taking A Piss And/or A Crap

Sun, 13 May 2012 15:36:00 +0000

I guess it's fairly common to see guys dangling a cig whilst standing for a piss at a public toilet. I find it rather cool looking at guys smoking while pissing. The same goes for having a cig while taking a dump. I am so used to smoking while pissing and having a crap that I rarely piss or crap without smoking. Wonder if I'm one of the few and why do we like to smoke when pissing and shitting.

Coming Of The Demon

Sat, 12 May 2012 13:57:01 +0000

Prologue

Alistair was an orphan.

He had spent the first five years of his life in Sisters of St. Mary’s orphanage, which housed fifty eight young boys, all of whom who had been abandoned.

He had never known the love of parents, only the strict and distant love offered by the nuns, and his only known siblings were the other children. He was a most curious child. Strange in his appearance and demeanor which caused him to be an outcast even amongst the other orphans.

His appearance itself was most unusual. Bold yellowish green eyes which looked almost catlike were set in a strong face topped with an unruly tousle of black hair. His body was strangely musculature; with well formed biceps, quads, and abdominals. Powerful glutes and leg musculature gave him a great amount of strength which he used frequently to run and climb. Perhaps even stranger was the soft black line of fur that extended down the back of his neck from his hairline and onto his back, ending just above his buttocks. Although strange in appearance he was also a curiously beautiful child.

Even at this age, he sported a generous five inches of uncut cock which much to his embarrassment would spring to life at inappropriate times. The nuns would shame him and send him to his shared bedroom to be alone. His roommates would laugh at him and call him names, and although Alistair could have easily beaten them to a pulp with his large well formed fists, he would cower away from them. He was an outcast. Unwanted. Unloved. A misfit.

Alistair spent most of his time alone, and at meals he would sit by himself in the corner of the dining room, avoided by the other boys. They would often attack him in groups when the nuns weren’t around and they were alone - punching him, kicking him, hitting him, and spitting on him. He could easily have taken down two or three of them at a time had he only known how, but the bullying was incessant, and had broken him down even at this young age. He was frequently sexually abused by the older boys, who would take turns raping him repeatedly in their bedroom at night.

He was a quiet child, but when he spoke, the deep baritone in his voice sent shivers up the spines of the nuns. It was with a great relief to all the day that Alistair was adopted.

Tuesday, May 14th

Peter and Jeanine were a childless couple and in their late thirties. They sought to bring a young boy into their family as their own; Peter was infertile and incapable of providing her with child, and Jeanine desperately wanted a baby but they both were well aware of the fact that a slightly older child would be the wiser choice for them. They were both successful professionals and did not have the time to nurse a baby.

Completely by accident as they visited the orphanage, they came across Alistair. He sat alone in the corner of the grand playroom playing with a well worn set of Legos while the other boys frolicked together, carefully avoiding him. Dressed in their clean pressed uniforms, the children all looked very much alike except for Alistair. As the young couple entered the room and talked with the children, Peter caught sight of Alistair across the room and nudged Jeanine.

As they looked at him carefully, Alistair raised his eyes and met their gaze. As soon as his yellow eyes caught theirs, it set fire to their souls and they were almost immediately bonded. The couple immediately went to him, sat on the floor beside him and started talking to him, engaging in helping him build the Lego house he was working on.

Across the room, the nuns were almost speechless as they watched. In the entirety of Alistair’s time with them, not one family had even so much as looked at the strange boy.

Minutes turned into hours as the three sat and played together, talking.

Lunchtime came and the three ate together, far removed from the others in the great dining hall of the orphanage. The other children cast long glares at them, some longing to be in Alistair’s position, and some just praying that the man and woman would take him away.

The young couple left late that evening, making arrangements to visit Alistair again the next day and arrange a home visit. As their large black Mercedes pulled slowly out the driveway, Alistair watched them through the window longingly. His open palm against the window pane wanted desperately to clutch the man and woman who had treated him so lovingly today and a tear rolled down his cheek as they disappeared into traffic outside. The window pane fogged around his hand and when he pulled it away, his handprint remained - etched upon the glass.

“Why would anyone want a freak for a kid?” came a voice from behind him and a smack to the back of his head brought him back to reality as four boys descend on him to assault him yet again. Alistair retreated into his head to escape the torture.

Wednesday, May 15th
Alistair sat quietly in the visiting room of the orphanage as Peter and Jeanine entered. As soon as he saw them, he jumped and ran to them. Leaping from the floor and onto Peter, he grasped him and wrapped his strong legs and arms around him, clutching him almost animal like as Peter hugged him. Alistair locked his legs around Peter’s torso and Peter held him, Jeanine leaned in and hugged the boy as well, who was obviously so desperately in need of their love.

Visitation went well, and the three spent the day together under the distant but watchful eye of one of the nuns. The day was spent talking, playing, and laughing. Something that was alien to Alistair but that he became quickly adjusted to. When the evening approached , Peter and Jeanine shared a secret glance with each other before Peter took Alistair’s hand in his own and held it firmly.

“Alistair, would you like to visit our home one day and see if it may be a place you would like to stay?” Peter asked cautiously.

Alistair’s face seemed to light up.

“You mean you want to be my daddy?” He asked slowly.

“Maybe, and I might want to be your mommy,” Jeanine said slowly, placing her arm around Alistair’s shoulders.

Alistair started crying, huge tears ran down his face freely from his large, yellowish eyes. “Oh, yes!” he cried as he jumped again onto Peter, leaping through the air and clutching him tightly so as not to let him get away. Jeanine joined in the embrace and the three held each other closely for a long time.

Friday, May 17th
Alistair sat quietly in the back of the large black Mercedes CLS with Sister Maria, as Peter drove carefully into the gated community that he and Jeanine called home. They passed row after row of large mansions, sitting far back from the roadside on well manicured lawns.

As they pulled into the driveway of a large, comfortable home Alistair leaned against the window to look at the sprawling mansion which would soon become his home.

The visitation went smoothly, Alistair played in the large inground pool for the biggest part of the afternoon, he was an expert swimmer with only a little coaching from Peter. The housekeeper prepared a wonderful lunch and dinner for them which they all enjoyed.

On the ride home, Peter finally asked the question.

“Alistair, would you like to live with Jeanine and I?”

“Oh yes, Peter, yes! More than anything!” Alistair cried out. He nearly climbed between the seats to get to them, but Sister Maria carefully held him back. It took all of her strength to do so, but she managed. Finally, Alistair relaxed back into the seat beside her. Sister Maria’s arms ached from the strain of holding the boy back.

“We would like that too,” Jeanine said, turning to hold his hand.

“If you like, we can start working on it right away.” Peter said.

“Oh, yes. I want to stay with you right now!” Alistair responded.

“It will take a few days to finish up everything,” Sister Maria said quietly. Peter and Jeanine had already completed all of the background information for the adoption, and had in fact just been deciding on a child.

The ride back to the orphanage was bittersweet to all. It was a new beginning. It was a sad farewell as well - albeit for a short time. Peter and Jeanine promised to visit every day until he could come home with them, and Alistair was overjoyed with his new found luck.

When they returned to the orphanage, Peter and Jeanine went to the office while Sister Maria took Alistair to his room. They completed the paperwork to start the adoption process. Alistair would be in their house by the end of next week.

Mother superior was more than happy to be rid of the bizarre young creature who had been in their care, dropped off in a basket on the front doorstep so many years before.

I Love Walmart!

Sat, 12 May 2012 06:26:31 +0000

I have to say there is one thing I love about super walmarts and it has nothing to do with the increadibly crappy products they sell. Its the workers and the shoppers. I had to run to walmart this evening around 11:00pm local time when the stockers were out in force and all the young men are coming into pick up beer. But what I especially like are all the late teen early 20 somethings that either smoke or dip. I counted a total of 12 dip rings this evening and 15 smokers between workers and shopper. Now I don't dip because it doesn't do much of anything for me. Sure I'll do it with others but it really doesn't do anything pleasant or unpleasant for me to want to take it up so I don't have a dip fetish of any sort. But I think what I like about knowing someone is a dipper, younger or older, is some of what I like about being a smoker. 1) Real men use tobacco, 2) they have deliberately addicted themselves to something and they enjoy it 3) gives an extra something to their personality. And with dippers it gives an extra reason to look at a good looking guys ass ;-)

Trigger

Fri, 11 May 2012 13:12:54 +0000

A few years ago, I created an interactive fanfic on the old BTJeff.net storyboards involving Superman. The story was reasonable well received, and inspired a few to contribute and help develop the story.

Recently, BTJeff himself has helped inspire another interactive story on the BTJeff.net boards. Whilst for me, The Neighborhood doesnt appeal because of its first person monologue format, the concept of interactive stories has inspired me to give writing another go. What also inspired me to do this was the lack of fantasy themed fiction involving cigarettes currently swanning around online.

Instead of a fanfic, the new story is an original. Like with The Neighborhood, I hope Trigger can and will inspire others, not necessarily writers, to come forward and contribute. You do not have to be an expert in writing, just have the imagination and creativity. It would be good if my opening chapter serves as an appetiser, and lays basic foundations as to where the story can go from here.

Please click on the below link to view Trigger.

Trigger: http://btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=4759

Superman - Return Of Nick O'Teen: http://www.smokinmen.com/index.php?/topic/1838-superman-return-of-nick-oteen/

Btjeff

Fri, 11 May 2012 04:41:16 +0000

Anyone else having difficulty loging on to BTJeff.net?? I've only had the odd problem before, but this time it just won't let me into the site. Nothing's changed regarding my nickname or password. And I can't get onto the site to complain!! Just wondering.

Subliminal

Thu, 10 May 2012 22:37:12 +0000

**********

I dropped the final box onto my bare mattress and staggered back through the house, down the hallway, and slammed the door closed on the outside world.

"Aahhh. DONE! Thank god that's over!" I sighed, and slumped down into a huge black overstuffed couch. I took hold of the ice cold bottle of Brown Ale offered to me, took a long chug, and rested it on my temple in an attempt to cool my stressed and aching brain.

"Oh yeah, cheers to that" Sam added, "Moving is a damned chore. All done now though my friend! Next, you get to look forward to a week of unpacking! WOOHOO!" He held up his bottle of ale in a meaty fist and clinked it to mine. I can't believe you had so much stuff crammed into that ratty old apartment!" He shook his head and laughed.

I felt terrible for having to ask my new housemate to move my belongings into his own home. "Mate, I honestly didn't realise just how much of a hoarder I'm becoming... I'm so sorry for dragging your ass back n forth all day with my shit." I scanned the various boxes that contained My Life inside them in mock horror. "As I packed n packed I just kept thinking about just how much of this stuff I actually need or use... and the truth is probably thirty to forty percent. The rest is just shit that I honestly can't seem to throw away"

I looked over at Sam and then leant in toward him, held out my hand for him to shake. "Bud, I can't thank you enough. I'd have been screwed if I didn't have my junk out that shithole by deadline-day, and might've even lost part of my bond payment." He grabbed hold of my forearm and used it to tug my arm into a firm grasp. "Hey Dale man I have no problem in getting you moved in, just use some of that bond to pay me a months rent ok?" Sam patted his firm gut. "Besides... I do need a little exercise once in awhile, keeps the weight in check!"

Sam heaved up out of his chair and began circumnavigating the pile of my boxes, making his way over to the kitchen area. I felt his footsteps as their mild shockwaves travelled across the bare wooden floor. He was a big man; a Doorsman at the sweaty little nightclub where I worked three nights a week. I'd worked there for a couple of years now and sometimes sat in the pay booth, taking door-fees as well as bartending. We'd struck up a sort of rapport over the many nights as I stood taking coats and money, offering tickets, checking ages and id. Sam would be standing just outside the entrance, a furry giant ushering the queue of revellers into the club, usual big cigar chomped in the corner of his mouth.

When I had agreed to move into his house there were to be three tenants; Sam, and another guy, Joe. However Joe had shacked up with some woman he'd decided he had fallen madly in love with after just a few days... upped, left. So now it looks like it's just us two, at least for the time being. Still- the rent is cheap enough, why crowd out the place with another housemate when I could certainly use the extra space for all my junk. Sam's bungalow was as generously proportioned as he was; the main area was wide open and incorporated a kitchen and dining area with a huge oak table we could probably play snooker on should we decide to. Four very large bedrooms, one for me, one for my stuff, one massive master bedroom with shower room that Sam occupied, and a fourth (which had an extra door from Sam's room) which was kept locked from it's corridor entrance. All of the big guy's crap would be crammed there, I assumed.

Although the rent I was to pay Sam would cost me a little more than before, I was getting a much better accommodation for the expenditure. This was a great place, and I knew I was going to love living and partying here. Indeed, I had been to a few post-club crashes here before with some of our mutual friends, There were often one or

"I'm beat- the beer is gone- so I shall take my leave!" Sam trudged away to his room with a drunken salute. I went to mine, set my bed up as best I could on the floor, and fell asleep after a hard day's labour.

**********

I woke up with sunlight in my eyes, streaming in through the bare window. I had a headache, from the ale and from the sun's flare. I could smell cooking- the aroma of bacon seemed to cause me to float up from my bed and out the door like something from a cartoon. Sam was across the far side of the huge living room, towering over the kitchen island and jiggering the frying pan. what the fuck is he wearing? What? is that- He noticed me staring across at him all bleary eyed and hungover, and a huge smile spread out from underneath the fur.

"Hey buddy! Hehehe you look like SHIT!!" With a shake of his head he returned his attention to the steaming pan. "Get y'zombie ass over here and sit down. I'm on a mission. A breakfast mission!" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Not easy, this mission... cos I feel just how you fuckin look... Jeez man, you are fuckin grey! You look like you died or something." Sam was obviously in a good mood despite his hangover. He looked like a cross between a biker and a butcher. A huge rubber apron hung around his neck, greasy metal spatula poking out the wide chest pouch. He had a black leather bandanna over his shaved head and some kitchen gloves streched over his huge hands. The yellow 'Marigolds' that housewives wear to wash dishes? These were thicker black versions of those, and they streched tight up Sam's bare arms, covering him up to the elbow.

I was impressed with the big guy's finesse. He really knew how to cook. But then, he did physically look like he loved his food.

He turned with his back to me and flipped the bacon out onto two plates, already laden with scrambled eggs and sausages. Two slices of perfetly timed toast popped out of the big chrome toaster to his left, and without looking he reached out and grabbed them, slapping them onto the worktop. The microwave pinged. He removed beans and poured them over the plates, buttered the toast, plonked us a slice on each plate, then grabbed the coffee pot he'd obviously brewed earlier. Under that rubber apron he wore some black combat shorts and his black leather vest he often wore on the job. The shorts looked sort of like leather too, but stretched too much as he moved... I shook the thought off. This sight was just too, I don't know... out of place maybe, for me not to take it all in?

"Sam, dude, honestly! You heading off to work in an abbetoir or something?" I joked.

He looked down at himself and pulled the spatula from the big pocket. "Awesome isn't it? Got it from a shop online, was on their website looking for another vest like my favorite here, saw this, bought it instead. Awesome!" He slapped the spatula across his gut, spattering oil and grease across the thick black rubber. "Wipe clean eh?" He dropped the spatula into the sink and wiped his hands down his front, in the usual way one does to clean off debris. All this achieved was to spread the grease over his apron and gloves, making them glisten.

With some effort he peeld the gloves off with a snap and unbuckled the rivetted leather strap that bound the apron to him, hung it up on a huge metal hook in the wooden-beamed ceiling, and offered me my plate. I looked at the massive hairy chest that held the leather vest open, then up at Sam. I shook my head and took the plate from him, a litlle bemused at the odd scenario I had awoken to. The guy was an eccentric, I'd give him that. Heck... aren't we all, in our own way?

The food was amazing. Perfection. Better coffee than I'd had in ages too. "Sam this is SO good! I had no idea you could cook so well. I see you're into good fresh coffee too eh? I'll have to unpack my Gaggia n have it out here for us to use."

Sam perked up, raised his eyebrows. "Where the fuck did you get that? Mate, we could have our very own Starfukks in here eh!" He whistled and bent over his food, almost finished. "I do live my coffee... nothing like a great cup of Java with a good stogie or my pipe. They go hand in hand dude, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah I do mate. I didn't know you were into pipes. You smoke grass?" I knew Sam was into cigars, big fat ones. Out on the doors at work he never seemed to be without one rolling around in his mouth. "I got the Gaggia from a coffee shop that went down, so I snapped it up for a few hundred pound- it's the full-house real-deal bit of kit... As for pipes they aren't my thing but I do enjoy a smoke, yeah., and a good strong doobie too mate. My Grandad smoked pipes, Dad tried once or twice with them but couldn't really get the hang of smoking a pipe I guess. An uncle, too" I explained, as I finished my toast and pushed my plate away. I sat and sipped my coffee, then pulled out my tobacco tin. Yeah, Sam was right. Nothing quite like that morning smoke, after food, even better. I began the craft of rolling myself a cigarette- using a rolled 'roach' in place of a filter tip (which I hate). I brought the paper to my lips, licked it and smoothed it across. I lit up and whatched my burly new housemate as he sat back down at the table with a very large carved wooden chest, around three feet long, maybe a foot wide, and shallow in height. It had an ornate handle at each end which clanked as he let go, like a huge door knock.

Sam chuckled at my earlier quiestion. "That's usually one of the first things guys ask me when they learn I smooke pipes" he said. "Must be because of the way I look I guess. Well yeah I do smoke a little wacky-baccy... but it's rare to be honest. And never in one of these beauties" He popped the heavy lid of the chest and studied the contents proudly. I put my roll-up into a crystal ashtray on the dining table and crossed over to his side to look at the contents. The box-like chest had been beautifully carved from mahogany and the base half was one solid slab, maybe three inches deep. It had deep indented cups bored into it, smooth and perfectly polished. Each held a beautiful pipe, every one different. I counted fourteen in total. "Two for each day of the week!" he explained. "I have an old churchwarden with a real long stem for the weed, when the mood takes me, but these are reserved for my drug of choice- Finest pipe tobacco only" Sam carefully lowered the lid to the table and set it down, it had a deep brown leather liner with round cutouts, each housing a tobacco tin, seven or eight different sorts. one was empty and waiting for a new tin to be placed in it's care.

"Wow. Just... wow Sam I had no idea you were that much into this. These are very cool though... lovely. You really should have these out on display"

"Well, this is their display" he replied. I tend to only smoke these in the home. It's a kick-back-relax thing...y'know, smoking a pipe. Cigars are for bars and sometines if I'm on the move, but my pipes are for me to just simply... Enjoy. Here in my home. I absolutely love them, they're my babies" He took one up from it's home and pulled a polishing cloth from a compartment in the corner of the box, buffed it up and brought it to his furry lips, tested the draw, and set it down on the table. It was a deep brown stained briar, and almost looked like it was a part of a gnarled old tree that had been snapped off and bored out. I reached out and picked it up. It was heavy, and very big. Up close it was obvious that a lot of care had been taken to carve out the pipe to look rustic, even to my untrained eye. The grain looked as if it had been painted on in perfect straight brush strokes. "Hey! C'mon. Give it over!" Sam beckoned for the pipe and I passed it to him.

I returned to my seat an watched Sam as he stuffed the bowl with tobacco from one of the tins, and lit up his pipe with a double-sized kitchen match. Everything this guy owned or used seemed to be slightly oversized in some way, or different from the usual. Gloves? Apron!? The big pipe, in fact they were all big, I recalled- some more than others. Even his damned matches!

I savoured my cigarrette. First smoke of the day. And a Sunday too! All day to myself to relax in my new home, with my cool (if a little...eccentric) roomie, unpack at my leisure, maybe play some games with Sam's console on that enormous plasma screen. I studied Sam as he leaned back in his chair after properly getting that big old pipe blazing. His hairy chest bulged out as he took in a lungfull, and heaved it out, filling the space between us with a fog of spicey-sweet smoke. "AAhh! I'm better now!" he smiled across at me.

I just sat, eyebrows raised. "I thought you weren't supposed to inhale pipesmoke mate" I remarked.

Sam gripped the pipe stem in his teeth and closed the box. "FUCK that namby-pamby horseshit. Bill Clinton doesn't inhale. ME on the other hand..." He took another chestfull and blew it in my face Then he offered me his pipe, waving it across the table with an outsretched arm. "You wanna go buddy?" he seemed hopeful I'd take the pipe from him, but I refused. "Aw dude, come on. Don't be shy! You'd really like it! I know you enjoy your smoke"

Again I declined- "Honestly mate, I'm good... I just put one out. You enjoy that" I laughed and shook my head. "To be honest it really suits you, all big n butch. You can pull it off. It's obviously your thing, but really not for me. And besides... I'd feel a bit of a twat smoking a pipe!"

"Ah whatever. It's not about how young you are or how you look, it's about how smoking makes you feel" he shot back, his furry mouth moving around the pipe stem as he spoke. "This IS the best and most indulgent way to smoke. It makes you feel special. An occasion to savour. He took the pipe from his mouth and looked it over. "Everything about the ritual of opening my pipebox, selecting a fine briar that reveals itself to me as my 'pipe-de'jour'... cleaning it, packing it with the best quality tobacco money can buy.... then the lighting!" Sam's eyes lit up, he gave me a wink. "Everything about the process makes you feel totally fucking Boss".

"Well you make it sound like bloody mystic indian voodoo or something mate!" I laughed. "What I think you mean is... that's how it makes you feel. Because you are well into your pipes and I get that... it's cool as fuck I have to admit... very decadent and shit!" I laughed and shook my head again. "But really mate, stop offering cos it's not my bag, I'm fine on my ciggies and spliffs thanks!"

"Fucking horrible!". Sam dismissed me with a wave "I stopped smoking them ten years ago, when I was in my early thirties and really got into cigars big-time... pipes followed a little later. They're just a quick fix. Feeding an addiction. I enjoy this more. It's way better... you'll see, when you try a pipe for the first time you'll get what I mean".

I got up and took our plates to the sink, filled the bowl with hot soapy water and grabbed the black rubber gauntlets. They were huge-baggy on me, and reached up above my elbow. 'Sam sized' I thought with a chuckle. I began washing them. "You are really serious about getting me to try your pipes aren't you?" I poked at Sam with my baggy rubber glove. "Whatever dude, I'll sit and have a 'Proper' smoke with you sometime alright, just to shut your ass up!"

"That would be cool Dale, nice one. I'd enjoy taking time to sit and enjoy a pipe with you mate. Coach you through it eh?" Sam seemed really pleased he'd talked me into trying a pipe with him. A little bit too pleased? I thought to myself... then shrugged it off. Male bonding with my new housemate. The big furry eccentric Yeti. I was, oddly, really enjoying getting to know Sam... all his quirks that came to the surface in the comfort of his own domain... the real Sam... it was cool, and made me feel warm and sort-of happy to be here with somebody interesting that didn't hide who he was, wasn't afraid to completely be himself, whether it made him appear odd or not. A rare quality, that even after only a couple of days, I had recognised and come to admire about Sam.

I finished the dishes and let the gloves drop off my hands. I looked across and saw Sam watching me, I thought I could make out a curious grin on his face. Hard to tell under the big beard that covered everything below his nose. He sat eyeing me for a moment more, thoughtfully puffing on his pipe, before getting up and replacing the chest back in it's home in an alcove next to a big (Sam sized) bookcase. "Come on then" he encouraged, "Let's get your gear out of here and into the spare room... I'll help you assemble your bed and unpack what you need".

"Dude, you've done enough already. I can't ask you to do that it's my chore not yours". I grabbed a box as he placed his ipod in it's dock. Rammstein pounded out of the huge (Sam sized) speakers, fast energetic German techno-metal that seemed perfect to urge us on to do some work, to get moving. He picked up two of the larger boxes like they were empty and plodded out the door.

We set out the pieces of my bed; a low slung super-king sized behemoth, solid wood sleigh style affair I'd bought way back when I had more money. It was old but sturdy, and I'd had many a good time in it. Sam paused on some deep gouges in the wood at one of the outer poles; "Interesting battle scars here, Dale? Eh?" he smirked and raised his eyebrow, and looked at me with a cocked head. "And... oh! Look! more here at the other side!" The grin grew wider. I caught a rare flash of teeth under the fur. I laughed in embarrassment and blushed a little. "If I didn't know better I'd say you had someone tied to this here bed! Yes? Am I right?" His teasing made me laugh hard.

"Umm... hehe, well yeah, you remeber that girl I picked up last summer? One of the student crowd that frequents the club? We flung for a few weeks until it kinda fizzled out..."

Sam recalled her instantly, he knew all of the clubs regular faces well. The nightclub where we work is a rock club- Heavy Metal, Alternative, Indie... that sort of thing. We get all sorts of people from all walks of life in there, Goth, Skaters, Bikers, Emos, Crusties... all dressed to impress. We've seen it all in there. Some night it gets very hedonistic; bodies grinding against each other to the music. Sex in the tiolets... Hell, both me and Sam had shagged other clubbers in the loo. Sam had once boasted he'd been sucked off upstairs on the balcony by some anonymous drugged-up guy in a luminous orange Morphsuit! The guy was outragious! Sam seemed to have little moral compass when it came to sex.

He described her; "Yeah, she was a lovely petite little thing wasn't she? Sort of dominatrix-ish in style, but too shy to really pull it off. Shame you two didn't make a go of it mate"

"Ah no... I wasn't looking for commitment, didnt want it then and I don't want it now..." I explained. "She was well up for it though, when she came out of her shell and let her hair down, and knew we were just good fuckbuddies, nothing more... A right 'go-er' she was! Well into a bit of slap and tickle" I waggled my eyebrows and nodded at the deep grazes in the wooden posts. "Emphasis on the SLAP!" I laughed, and went on to explain how she was into a bit of bondage, one night while we'd been smoking grass she'd decided to handcuff me up to the foot of the bed... and the rest is best left to the imagination!...

"Well Well... you, boy, are a darker horse than Black Beauty! I had NO idea!" Sam screwed the cross braces to the frame and hoisted the heavy wooden structure up-ended like it was made of matches. Then began to asssemble the headboard. "Y'are a kinky little bugger!"

"Hey, talk about the pot calling the kettle black!!... Anyways, it was all her not me... BUT! You is the dude walking around in the leather vest n shit, with your rubber apron and body-cavity search gloves!" I shot back. "You said you got that from the same website you were about to buy a leather vest from" I got up, picking up a small pen light I have on my car keys. I shined it in Sam's face in a mock interrogation. "HMMM what you got to say about that you fat hairy fucker!" I moved in closer with the torch.

Sam laughed and played along with the joke, raised his hands, an alarmed expression on his face. "Oh ok you got me" he confessed, "Not my fault the best fitting leather comes from the fetish shops! Last piece of gear I got from a motorcycle shop was overpriced crap... no style to it at all! And you know I am all about the style!" He primped his bandanna like a delicate haircut "Dude you can just take me as you find me... I am who I am, I wear what I like whenever I want, and I do anything I want, when I want...for me. Nobody else matters... B'sides... you have to admit that IS a fucking cool apron!"

"Good answer... and yes, I get that about you. It's a shame everyone can't be so, erm, bohemian". I nodded at him and held the heavy headboard as he screwed it to the frame, and we lowered it down together. "And thanks for the muscle eh, you were right. I couldn't have done this alone". Sam shrugged and stepped away, there was that curious grin again... and his eyes always seemed to twinkle knowingly. "Anytime mate. I'm, uh, gonna go spend some time in my room. It's almost as much of a mess as yours". With a wink, he turned his back to me and left the room.

He lumbered off down the hallway, I heard the door slam, and then silence. My thoughts were scanning over the mornings events as I unpacked my gear and began to assemble my room. I couldn't get the bizarre vision of Sam in his rubber apron out of my head! My mind kept pausing on it; Just standing there in an everyday domestic situation... cooking breakfast... in heavy black rubber, leather... rubbing oil and grease up and down himself with those huge rubber gloves... and the pipes thing...now that is fairly normal I suppose when you come to think of it- although it's rare we see a guy smoking a pipe out in the street unless he's a hundered or something... but Sam, sitting there half naked with his big belly n hairy pecs out, hauling clouds of smoke out of that bloody great big pipe... almost worshipping them, just... goddamn odd habits eh. I snapped out of the wierd recollection of my housemate, decided I should just stop thinking about it all. Fuck, I'd only been living here one weekend and was obsessing about stuff already.

I chastised myself for over-dwelling on things I really should have no issues with... god knows I have my own quirks. My thoughts returned to that night with me handcuffed to the sturdy wood of the footboard, and I ran my fingers across the battle scars of my bed. Now that night was hot. She wasn't shy that night I recalled.

**********

After a busy Sunday unpacking, Monday came, and with it, work. I came home tired and sat down to the console, I played online- shot a few people on CoD before getting massacared and turned it off in a huff. Sam was still out and didn't appear before I went to bed and waited for Tuesday.

On the days I work at the bar I make sure to lay in bed resting until noon. Get up. Go about my business and get to work behind the dirty old bar by nine. But not today it seemed. From the other end of the house I could hear grunting, scraping noises, and banging. I looked at the clock- 9:36. Fuck. bang goes my lay-in. I got dressed and padded through to the kitchen for some juice, wishing for another fantastic breakfast like Sunday's. The banging seemed to be coming from the spare room adjacent to Sam's. I tried the door handle, and the banging stopped instantly. I heard a grunt come from the other side of the wall, then the tremors of Sam's footfalls passing through to his side of the two rooms. The door opened and I heard a snap, like a rubber band breaking. He popped his head around the door, and grinned at me warmly, "Hey man, how's it going" His hand gripped the doorframe- he was wearing those black rubber gloves again.

"Yeah I;m, uh, good... you okay in there? Just, uh, wondered what all the noise was all about eh" I rubbed my eyes, still trying to wake up.

Sam looked at me in sympathy, "Aw I'm sorry mate, I didn't mean to wake you! Just letting off a little steam in the spare room, y'know how it is. Woke up full of energy this morning and thought I should put it to good use y'know! He grinned at me again disarmingly. "Well I'd, erm, I'm gonna get back to work... maybe see you later eh? We'll hang out a bit before work if you like... maybe share that smoke eh? Hey tell you what, I'll give you a lift into town so you can have a drink tonight if you like... seeing as you're on half shift at the bar" With that, Sam withdrew back into the room and slammed the door. I heard the lock click. Quiet fell on the corridor, and I turned back to the kitchen.

I heard the grunt again, it came from just the other side of the wall... Curious now, I put my ear to the plaster and listened. I felt Sam thudding back through into the spare room... Again! More groaning, very faint and muffled... I heard Sam sigh, a sound I recognised... Sam as he leaned back in his chair after properly getting that big old pipe blazing. His hairy chest bulged out as he took in a lungfull, and heaved it out, filling the space between us with a fog of spicey-sweet smoke. "AAhh! I'm better now!" he smiled across at me Flashed through my consciousness.

I jerked my head away as the banging resumed. I was kind of amused now... That horny old fucker had someone with him in there! He was getting laid. No wonder he didn't come home until late last night. And the gloves! What the fuck were they doing?! I marched back through to the kitchen, eyeing Sam's rubber apron as I passed it. I went to the sink to wash my juice glass and found the pair of rubber gloves just where I'd dropped them last night...

So. Sam has two pairs of big thick rubber gloves. He bought a rubber apron from some website that also sells leather vests and presumably other garments of both materials. He's in there pounding someone, wearing those bloody gloves and god-knows what else! My mind was reeling! I thought the past weekend was odd. Turns out it's the norm. 'Par-for-the-course' as it were.

Much later, well after the commotion in Sam's room had stopped, he finally appeared. He was dressed for work; Black and grey leather flat-cap, black jeans, black t-shirt under the usual leather vest. We had about an hour before we had to leave, and I was sat playing Sam's console- busily getting murdered online again. "Fuck, boy! Y'gonna wear that damned thing out!" he remarked.

"I cant help it! It's too damned addictive! I'm slowly getting better at it but it's not easy thing to put down." I replied, watching him as he took up his pipebox from below the bookcase. I figured it was time for me to just give him what he wanted, I'd let him show me how to smoke a pipe. He carried the box over and sat to my right, in his chair- a big (Sam sized) bottle green leather armchair, it's plump buttoned cushions creaked as he sank down into them. I started to get up to go over and sit on the couch, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Dale no, it's probably best if you stay across here where I can keep an eye on what you're doing" He weighted my shoulder towards his chair firmly, scooting me further towards his left leg. I noticed the beautifully crafted buckle at the top of the high boots he wore. They looked expensive, almost like riding boots, but chunkier. Sam opened the pipebox with some theatre, and made a revealing sign with his hands, inviting me in. I looked over the pipes as they sat on display in the opened chest. He picked one out for himself- a big black thing, steeply bent like some kind of rough wooden saxophone. This one would probably be my favorite... if I had one. Go on buddy, choose... Choose!" He urged me and sat foreward, watching me scrutinise his prized collection.

I picked out a similar one to Sam's. Mine was just a little smaller, in fact it was th one with the shallowest looking bowl out of the lot. I put my thumb down into the bowl until the web of skin prevented it probing further. From what I recalled of their size, my Dad's pipes that he inherited from his father were dwarfed by this thing. "Put it in your mouth" Sam instructed, a sober expression on his face. "Just blow gently to test the draw, without spitting, like this" he blew a few crumbs of tobacco from the bowl of his. "See, those would've been sucked up into my mouth if I hadn't checked!" he mumbled something about how he should've cleaned it properly before putting it away, and picked out three tins and a light coloured pouch from the lid. "Okay... now you have a choice here, of three different aromatics or a more robust one, which I'm gonna smoke as it's my usual blend. He took back the light yellow pouch and dropped the three tins down in front of me. "You get Coffee-Caramel... seeing as you like a good cup of coffee, Strawberries and Cream over in the bigger black n white square tin, or Maple Syrup and Cinnamon there in the round brown tin... though I think that one smells more like tropical fruit... quite cool how it tastes of one thing but smells of another!"

I was amused at just how excited he had got showing me his stuff like this. I sort of enjoyed the fact that my participation was making him happy. The cameraderie had begun to flow yet again.

"Wow this stuff really is kinds cool" I had to admit. "Like if Willy Wonka made pipe tobacco!" I popped the tin open and smelled strawberries. It smelled so good- made me want strawberries to eat instantly. Same with the cinnamon smelling tocacco in the round tin... I could smell the underlaying tones of the fruit he'd mentioned too. "You said this one tastes of maple syrup though?" I asked. He confirmed; "Yeah, but the room note is fruit... clever, huh?" I stuck my nose in the tin again. It smelled amazing. But it was the last tin that got my vote- the tobacco looked thick, black and almost sticky like dried prunes had been crushed up in there, but was quite dry to the touch... but the smell of coffee and caramel smelled so good to me that I immediately forgot my reservations about all of this. I just wanted to try some.

"For comparison, take a noseful of mine, dude. it's your basic unflavoured Virginia from America" He held the pouch down for me cupped in his huge hand, and thrust it under my nose. I pulled my face back "Woah it's quite sharp, mate... smells like barbecue sauce or something!" I wasn't sure about his blend after smelling the others. He explained "AAh, but... it tastes very different, this one... this is the kind of stuff you'll probably progress to later after you've got tired of the sickly stuff!"

I laughed at this, "Sam, mate I honestly dont think I'm going to take up smoking a pipe, I mean... um, this is kinda ok I guess, but it's probably not something I'm going to pursue... other than sitting down with you like this once in awhile. But now though, I've decided. I do like this one, the Coffee-Caramel flavour is well nice"

"Excellent choice, Sir! Coffee-Caramel it is!" Sam quipped, like some sort of giant Yeti waiter. "Now take your pipe and drop some tobacco down into the bowl..." Sam coached me on how to correctly pack my pipe, then gave me a metal tool to poke about with once I'd lit up. "Okay buddy, you're good to go! Fire him up. Normally I'd suggest using a match... but here, take this lighter, it'll make it easier for you the first few times" There he goes again... presuming too much with this 'new hobby' he's trying to get me into I thought to myself. All the suggestions were beginning to get just a little bit overbearing...

So I took the pipe lighter from him and lit up the big bent pipe, kind of like when I'd used a bong in the past, but instead of inhaling I just kept puffing it out until I had the whole surface lit. Sam watched me intently as I did so, packing his own pipe without taking his eyes from me. "Ok man, now take your tool and use the flat head to smooth out the lid of ash, gently... pretend you're a bricklayer, spreading out cement to build a wall!... That's good... good, ok. Good." He sank back into his throne and looked at me. "Ok... now watch me. He cracked up a big kitchen match and applied it to his pipe, working it around the huge bowl. It took ages to cover the top with ash, but after ten or twelve hefty puffs, he had the flame blazing out of the top of that pipe like a furnace.

He pointed the match at me like a schoolteacher with his stick. "First light" he said as he re-applied the still-lit kitchen match back into the bowl, after quickly and expertly crushing the ash down with his other thumb. He leaned down into my space, tilting the black bowl towards me as he worked the match evenly over the flattened ash. I could hear the tobacco crackle as he lit the pipe, bits curled up and expanded, creamy smoke erupted from his mouth as he brought the thing back to life. I shrank away a little- I could feel the heat on my face.

He leaned back in the chair contentedly and just sat there a moment, studying me as he shook out the match and set the pipe clamped in the corner of his mouth. "Second light" he exclaimed with a flourish of the hand. Can a guy really be THAT much into pipes? I asked myself. Sam didn't give me time to gather my thoughts. "Ok Dale... now you copy what you saw... get the flame around the whole bowl for a perfect even light. Do it properly, get the tobacco burning just right and packed right... you'll get the whole flavour. If you fuck it up, you'll spoil the experience".

"Ok... here goes" I clicked on the lighter and kept a check of the flame as I applied it to the ash lid, sucking it down into the bowl. Hotter, creamier smoke came this time, and more flavour. I'd gotten it lit quite easily in fact. "You made it sound so difficult dude" I boasted, "That was fairly simple" I took a few puffs and got up to the sofa, but yet again he instructed me back to him! "Dale... No! Sit there... c'mon man!, sit...Sit!" He pointed me back to my spot on the floor next to his chair. telling me what to do, now. Telling me. Like a bloody dog or something! I shrugged it off and did as he asked. I wanted to pacify him. Get his task over with and let him play coach. "So what do you think, huh? You like the pipe eh?"

I took a few puffs and then snapped one back in, like I just saw him do. I let it out in a long slow exhale. Then set the pipe home in my teeth and took a few more puffs, letting it out of my nose to taste the smoke in the back of my tongue and sinuses. I could feel Sam's eyes on me, he was quiet and still in my peripheral vision. "Well... yes... I do get it a little more now. The smoke is nicer than my ciggies, more flavourful... stronger in the nose though and it's heating up my tongue a bit" I mused. "But it's okay I guess" I took the pipe and held it, cupped it in my palm. It felt good. I looked at the hallmarks on the band, designating solid silver amongst other things. It was a very nice pipe, less steeply bent than Sam's and smaller, with a dark brown polished bowl in an egg shape. I brought it back and took a couple more slow puffs. The coffee flavour really came through now... lovely... but maybe no caramel? I left it in my mouth to pop the tool into the top and pack it down a little. I nodded in satisfaction at Sam, still watching me like a hawk.

"Yeah, yeah that's better! Sam noted that I'd begun to pace myself. "You kind of pick it up quite well dont you? But then with three other members of yout family being pipemen you instinctively know what to do, eh?" His eyes twinkled. He knew I was beginning to enjoy it despite myself. "Another good reason to start... You realise it gives you the perfect excuse to follow their footsteps" he added. I nodded thoughtfully as he continued, "Here my friend, take this... try this stuff it's awesome" The huge black pipe was thrust into my spare hand. Christ- it was as heavy as a bowling ball. I offered Sam my pipe but he held up his hands, so I set it down on the hollowed out pipestand in the box floor just next to us. The bowl felt rough in my hand. I ran my thumb across it. "Hand rustacated" he said. I gave the stem a wipe with my shirt cuff and put it to my lips, I was surprised at how easy the draw was, and realised it would have a large (Sam size) airway to match it's size. The stem was easily 20mm across or more, and felt much more invasive in my mouth.

Sam continued to coach,and almost harrass me, "Let it sit... just let it go. Let go" I found a comfortable spot further down the stem where my teeth could gently clamp onto, and left the big pipe resting against my chin. It felt... kind of good, comfortablly resting on my goatee, pushing my mouth to the side into my cheek slightly... but , yeah, kind of good. Nodded at Sam and held out my hands, took a few puffs and inhaled some of his blend. This was much stronger- not as sweet and my coffee stuff. I took anothe hit and jetted some through my nose but stopped because it was so strong! I moved to hand it back, but Sam refused, "Go on, man... smoke it up. Keep going, you are doing really well" he praised as he just sat watching me with that hint of a smile.

A few more inhales and I got the first nicotine rush I'd had in years! "Shit... SHIT dude I think I'm gonna puke!" I thrust his pipe back to him and made for the bathroom, but it subsided as I got halfway there. I turmed around to see Sam silently chuckling away at me. I laughed. It seemed to suddenly ease my tension a little and lighten the intense mood. Sam looked at his wristwatch and decided it was time to go, he grabbed his car keys and we headed out, off to work.

The car journey was short, and filled with us both cackling and laughing like drains, at me turning green and heading for the loo. Later, in the club whilst behind the bar I had more time to think; dammit... he IS persuasive, I'd give him that! For a while there he really did have me converted... I was all ready to change up from cigarettes to pipe... I got all caught up in the moment,,, the cameraderie and bonhomie or whatever...I mean, I do think I'd like to try it again but just .. not with him over the top of me, pecking at me and urging me to do it!

I carried on serving drinks to the crowd, some I knew and has a little banter with, others I didn't recognise... then out popped a familiar face. Joe. The guy who's room I'd just taken.

"HEY dude how's shit going? You got married yet?" I laughed, clasping his hand. He was a big meaty guy like my new housemate, but a good six inches shorter. I looked across and met his eyes- he looked a little down. I did the bartenderly thing and gave him a shot to chase down with his beer. "No... it's really not worked out... I move into a place of my own next week. I kinda knew it wsn't gonna work out to be honest with you... But I, erm, I just needed a change of scene y'know?" Now I'd talked with Joe I could tell he was already halfway drunk.

"HEY! Hey mate don't worry, we got another spare room at Sam's pad! I mean... I know I have your old room and the other one is a little smaller, but you could just-"

"NO!" Joe stopped me mid-offer. "No... really it's fine, I, I , it's like I said Dale I just wanted a change of scene... she was convenient and came along just in time. I lived with Sam for six months and wanted to get away from, from... the, erm,... He seemed to be searching for the words. I could sense he wanted to tell me something. I gave him a second shot on the house, he necked the whiskey like it was stolen.

"Joe. Joe listen, I need to ask you a question. In fact I'll tell you what I'm thinking, and you can just answer yes or no, okay Joe?" He nodded, drunk as a skunk. The whiskey had taken effect and so I pressed him for the information I wanted. "Mate... Sam is into other guys, isn't he... gay or at least bisexual?"

Joe nodded "Yeah he is full on gay, Dale" he continued nodding, wide eyed. He looked kinda funny as he confirmed quite satisfactorily what I had already come to realise. okay so Sam is gay... fine with that, I mean, I'm kinda bisexual myself... or at least I have been in the past.

"I'm cool with that. I wish he'd come clean with me though and told me straight out" I nodded along with Joe, trying to catch his eyes and bring him back to planet earth. "He seems very elusive" I added.

Joe looked like he was back in the room. "No, man... You are new. Unchanged, He's being nice. Soon he'll relax and come out more... reveal more to you. Sam is not the kind of guy to explain himself... He just... is. You will quickly come to learn that he hides nothing of himself, explains nothing of himself. It is left to you to see him and accept him... and you are forced to process all you see and form your own conclusions, because he acts like it's all just so... normal. If you can stand the heat it'll be okay... otherwise, Dale, get the fuck out the kitchen! When I lived there with him I felt like I was just being dragged along with the ride. The more I saw into his world the more I wanted to make my own way and get the fuck out!"

I let out a slight laugh. But I was alarmed too, Joe appeared... well, freaked out! "Did he come on to you?" jesus, I know the guy's persuasive and very intense but maybe he tried it on with Joe? Or the pipe thing? I guess that would freak some folks out a bit but- "Joe, he's trying to get me to, erm.. to convert to a pipe, did you get that too?" I laughed as I was saying it... it all sounded so ridiculous.

"Yeah he got me well into my pipes... I kind of still am and I wish I wasn't! Yes he did sort of make a pass at me but I'd rather not talk about it... Now listen, Dale, I don't want to make it sound like he tried to force me or anything.. but.. just, no. No. We're done, mate I don't want to talk about it ok?. Thanks for the drinks!" Joe pushed away from the bar and left the club. I looked at the clock, ah great stuff, I finished in twenty minutes, free drinks for the bartender!

**********

I'd finshed my shift and was taking advantage of my free bar tab, instead of mingling with the crowd or trying to hook up, I sat alone in an attempt to gather my thoughts- so I kind of know what Joe means... The guy just has this winning way with people, and he's able to just talk to us, to kind of... worm his way into our heads? Make us forget our inhibitions? I remember back ages ago when I went on stage, picked out by the performer to do a demo with me for the crowd... he took me backstage and began to put me under, Hypnosis. But my subconscious fought it- wouldn't concentrate and relax... I was one of the minority that could not respond to the spell... I was disappointed at the time, I wouldn't get an aftershow video of me onstage walking and clucking like a chicken, making folks laugh...so. Safe to assume I hadn't been hypno'd by the big guy... so what's his fucking secret?I just don't get.... I was pulled from deep thought by this gorgeous, leggy redhead. She'd come and sat beside me, feeling sorry for me because I looked so troubled. I gave her a warm smile and told her I was fine, sat there, sipping my drink... I didn't seize the blatant opportunity like I usually would.

After a short friendly conversation she finally realised this was going nowhere, and gave a lovely view of her fine arse as she walked away. I sighed and looked around the room. Just inside the entrance stood Sam, talking with one of the glass-collectors about thirty feet away from me. Despite the smoking ban, Sam had his customary cigar on the go. He never came far into the club with a smoke, but would often stand in here or the entrance foyer... nobody ever seemed to tell him to get outside. He looked over at me and took the fat nub from his mouth, then that huge friendly smile spread across his face, gave me a wink, and then pulled the sides of his mouth drooped down into a mock sad-face, pointing at me jokingly, then pulled them back up again smiley and pointed at his glass, shook it, and nodded toward the bar. I seemed to lighten up a little and got to my feet. He was right. To the bar!

After the club we arrived home. Home sweet home. The thought of my bed seemed SO good right now. I'd stopped drinking one unit short of being as pisst as a newt. I flopped my ass down onto the sofa and huddled in, then got restless and got back up again. I went to the fridge for some food, grabbed a load of stuff and set about making myself a nice sandwich. Sam came out from his room. He'd changed from his sweaty workclothes back into the shorts he wore earlier, and once again, his t-shirt was gone. He really did look like someone from porno. I had to smile to myself. Sam had absolutely no fear or concern of exterior perception, it seemed. I found myself, yet again, wishing I... and everyone else, could live like that. The world would be a better place.

"What've you got?" he asked, slooping down into his chair, the leather upholstery huffing as his mass displaced the air inside it.

I described my masterpiece; "Well... I found a leftover slice of bacon... crumbled it... sliced some Brie, Cranberry sauce! Pepper!... Shazam!"

He laughed at my theatrics, "So you made a 'Christmas sandwich' then! Mate that's totally against the rules! Christmas sandwiches are to be eaten in December only! Hehehe" he sat foreward and took up the half-smoked pipe I had left earlier, rather than his big black one. "Aw man I can not believe you snaffled my bacon too!" he shook his head, clearly pretending to be genuinely saddened by my bacon-theft.

"Hey mate, it's fine if you want some sandwich. It's got your bacon in it, you can have a whole half!" I offered him the plate, which he took without hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked as he made his way to the kitchen for a knife. "Yeah mate, it's fine, take half if you-" I heard the sound of a (Sam size) meat cleaver slam down through the sandwich and embed itelf into the chopping board. yeah so there's really no need for me to clarify is there... you'd already decided you wanted half of my food. Probably before you sat down.

The tension within me was allowing me to sober up quite fast. I wanted to try and confront him and be open with me. I'd need my wits to be able to recognise whether he was mindfucking me or whatever he does. He returned the plate to me. He'd taken less then a third for himself... I felt bad. "Mate this sandwich is awesome" he nodded as he ate the thin finger in two mouthfulls.

"Here! Have some more if you like, you only took just enough to get a taste! I offered the plate over.

Sam eyed me- then the plate, that smile came back under the beard, he's pleased... that's great! I want him to be happ-

"Well, yeah... okay Yes, thankyou buddy. It is a really good sandwich!" I watched him take a bite and got a flash of white teeth and tongue... I sensed myself clench my jaw as he bit down, copying his movements. He closed his eyes and sighed approvingly, I felt warm and good... I licked my lips- never ever get to see his teeth or tongue... or lips. Under all that beard... just a flurry of movement under the fur... I snapped back to reality to see Sam holding out the plate. He'd taken two good bites from my snack but it looked like it had been munched by a fucking shark.

Mildly annoyed, I looked at my food, then at Sam. "You have a very, Very Big Mouth" I emphasised the words, eyebrow raised.I roll my eyes and sat down on the couch. Sam took position back in his chair and scooted it around a little,so we were almost facing each other. He took up my pipe again instead of his... so I'm calling it MY pipe now? I catch myself, wondering why the hell I seem so annoyed that he's smoking the pipe he loaned me to use... It is his after all, not mine. Whatever. I let him take it back. I sat and finished my half-devoured sandwich.

He lit the pipe up and began to smoke, then seemed to realise his mistake. "Ah sorry buddy, I took the wrong one... here take it back, I'll fire up mine 'n we can finish what we started eh?" He offered me the pipe, his eyes seemed to show hope that I would take it. yeah, just take the pipe and smoke with him... I caught myself slipping away! AGAIN! ...how the fuck does he do it? What is it about him that makes us want to follow his will? I need to confront him. I'll do it now... I'm going to do it right now.

I reclined back in the sofa, and kicked a leg over the side, "Ah no problems mate, it is your's after all" With that comment I got an odd sense of deja-vu and couldn't really put my finger on why. I puffed thoughtfully on the pipe that Sam had lit up for me and just decided to go for it. "Hey mate, listen. I have absolutely no problems with your sexuality, I just want you to know... y'know... get it out there! Out in the open! I get that you're gay and I'm totally cool with it, I should have spotted it sooner I guess." I watched Sam eye me over as I went on, "So earlier, dude... with the banging? Was that a guy you were banging or-"

"Yeah I was fucking a guy in the spare room" Sam cut me off nonchalantly as he lit up that big black pipe. The flames shot out and lit up his face in the dark room. I took a few hard pulls on mine and inhaled when the smoke got real fuckin creamy. We both exhaled together. I could barely see him through the sweet, savoury smoke. Damn, I was genuinely enjoying this now, the cameraderie of just sitting down and smoking our pipes. He is right, I take it back, this is good. The cigarrettes I'd smoked during my breaktime, outside the club earlier, just seem a litlle bland now, compared to this wonderful tobacco. It was like the difference between a fine wine tasting session and chugging down a glass of water.

"Why do you ask?" Sam questioned me with an odd look on his face, that I couldn't quite read... He was normally so open, so... open.

I just want to get things out in the, erm, urm... I searched for the right words to explain to him... to- make him feel at ease, I want to see that fuzzy grin come back- There... I did it again! It's like some form of blackout! I struggled to gather my thoughts as I continued to smoke my pipe.

"Open" Sam said flatly with a little more vocal projection than was necessary,

I shook the thoughts away, "What?" I asked him... how did he know what I was going to say? Fuck I'm still drunk- I figured.

"You said you wanted to get your feelings out in the open, Dale" he replied, slowly puffing away. Then he sat forwards, elbows on knees.

"Do you fancy a fuck? Is that what you are trying to ask me?" Smoke drifted out his mouth as he spoke.

"NO!" I splurted, jumping up in frustration! This was all coming out wrong! "That's not what I was looking for Sam, I'm really not gay myself... well I have had a couple of guys but it was more of a one night stand and-" not a good thing to say! Not good at all. Now he's going to think-

Sam was just staring at me. Like Really staring. He sat hunched forwards his pipe paused just below his lip... it's not like I can see the lip because his big beard is hiding it from me, I want to see what his mouth looks like... it must have a shape, under there, wherever it is-

"Well?" Sam chewed ont the stem of his pipe and slowly rose up, up, and came to me. "Do you?... Or not!... It's a simple question, Dale" He shrugged, like this was all normal to him, nothing to be concerned about, nothing out of the ordinary going on here...

He was right though, it was a simple question, and really, when I thought about it... it isn't really all that out of the ordinary at all was it? I've fucked guys before, and been fucked too- really enjoyed it... but... No- this wasn't what I was aiming for! I looked up at Sam, towering over me by a good six or seven inches. That tobacco he was smoking smelled fucking great... It made me want my pipe, which I'd left over by the couch. I dropped my eyes to Sam's massive chest. All that fur. Pure masculinity, personified and standing right here, before me Me! Choosing me. He can have anything and anyone he wants. but he want's me.. Isn't this too good an opportunity to miss? I should do it... let him take me to his room... because I really, really want to see that mouth... so easy... to give him confirmation by just burying my face in his hairy chest... oh, fuck, it looks so comfortable and warm... I don't even have to say anything... just move forward... lean into Sam... let him fuck his (Samsized) bear cock up into-

"NO Sam! Thankyou... but no not tonight. I just wanna sit here and unwind... maybe smoke another pipe with you n then go to bed, ok?" HOLY SHIT! I just came so close to allowing this horny old bear to have his way with me! I recalled the banging and moaning... almost sounded like a fight in there! Dale vs Sam... hmmm... no I think not. Nope. Not for me, thanks very much.

He sighed and seemed genuinely disappointed, rejected even. He just stood over me with hooded eyes as if deep in contemplation, jaw working at the stem of that beautiful big pipe of his, then snapped out of his deep thought; "Hmm... okay bud. Tomorrow then." He slapped me across the shoulder hard, making me stumble to the side slightly, then flashed his winning smile as he removed the pipe and went back to the chair. I was frozen to the spot in genuine fear now- Sam had just TOLD me that we would have sex tomorrow... did I actually just hear that?

"Wh, what, mate? Sorry dude what did'ya say?" My voice became chalky and limp... like the muscles in my throat didn't want to project them past my lips. "Sam, I... I just said no? NO, dude... I'm sorry if I led you to think that this is what I want... but-"

Sam held up his spade-like hand and winced his eyes, just dismissed me mid sentence. "Dale... man, forgive me but I do feel like I'm getting mixed signals. You did just say you didn't want it tonight, but then-" He shook his head in frustration and massaged his temple, then offered out his hand to the sofa. "Ah forget it buddy, Come on n sit down" I tentatively took my place on the sofa and picked up my neglected pipe. Stressed, I suddenly needed it's comfort somehow. His hand beckoned for me to hand it back, "No mate, pass the pipe over n I'll clean it out later. It gave a good gurgle earlier when I lit him up... here, take another, Um, this one I think" Sam selected me out another one but this time he packed it for me himself, out of the light yellow-beige pouch he smoked himself. He set his own pipe down and lit mine for me, tamped with his thumb, lit again until the fire rose high into his face, then passed it across.

"Thankyou" I said simply, not knowing what to make of this situation; like a wierd space had opened in between us that was void of noise... I just sat looking at the carpet for a moment searching for words- resolved to see the coversation through. I turned the pipe in my hands, the apple shaped bowl had a rough sandpaper-like texture like Sam's, but carved out of a blonde clay with a darker, black charred rim, like it had seen many a flame. Like almost all the pipes it had a steeply bent stem that snugged down against my goatee, like it was leaning on me for comfort just as I was with it. I pulled on it but smoke wasn't forthcoming so I asked Sam for a light. A box of matches silently tossed my way. I struck one and applied it to the tobacco, dancing it around like he had done, then sank back into the sofa and looked across at my housemate.

"Do you find that everything presents itself so easily to you, Sam?" I asked. I watched his reaction closely, trying to get a gauge as to the man's thoughts. "What I mean is... are you used to getting your own way all the time? With people's decisions mostly?"

He shifted in his seat and seemed to search for words- "Yeah." he said finally, before adding simply; "Yeah I do."

"Why do you think that is?" I puffed languidly on his tobacco, really enjoying this stronger blend... it had a slighly sweet after-taste that came through when exhaled via the nose

"I guess it's the whole package, um... I'm not an arrogant person I don't think, a good friend, I'm loyal, good conversationalist... performance-wise I'm spectacular in bed, I look pretty good provided you are into Bears of course..." He seemed to have stopped sulking now and lightened up a little, "I'm a pretty good catch you gotta agree"

"Yeah, I do agree mate, and please don't take that as an advancement on my part, I don't want to sleep with you Sam, ok?" I added, making sure to keep myself clear.

"Dude, if you want to pass up then I'm not out to force you ok? That's not the way I roll buddy" Sam held out his hands, revealing honesty. "I got signals from you Dale, and I acted on them, that's all... I really sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but you just seem as if you really don't know what you want... so I,... I maybe just pressed too hard, too soon... you take your time to make up your own mind, buddy. I wan't you to do things on your own terms, because you could have the very best most life changing experience ruined... if your head isn't totally committed to it ok?

"No, it isn't Sam. And I doubt if it ever will be. I've seen a different side to you these last few days, mate. And you have me second-guessing myself because you just seem to twist my words into how YOU want them to sound!... you are right, I admit, on some level I do, erm,... I do find you attractive, yeah I'll admit that... but I don't trust that side of you... more importantly I don't trust myself with that side of you, dude... I-"

A flash of anger passed across Sam's face but passed so quickly it was hard to tell if it was there at all. "What side is that, man? Dale please, dude that hurts! There's only one side of me... it's like I said before I don't hold anything back from anybody, all you gotta do is just ask! I'd tell you anything, Dale... Anything you want!"

He exhaled two thick streams of smoke from his nose, seemingly in exasperation. "OK... ok. Let me say this plainly, as I see it. Take this however you want, dude. I'll put my cards on the table here and you can do as you like with that shit... Food for thought. Tommorrow It'll be buisness as usual and I don't want you to think that things will change any more than they already, um... already kinda have. Dale, you are my friend, that's how I've come to think of you... not just someone who works where I work, or just a housemate, my friend... but we both know things have changed during the short time we've lived together" He put his fat paw over his heart and took a few puffs on his pipe, "For the better as far as I'm concerned!"

that beautiful smile, oh got it's just, so... No!

"Now I don't make any apologies for the way I am Dale, and I admit I DO go and get what I want... I want us to explore ourselves further... I'm not going to make secret of that... I think that this is just too good an opportunity to pass up, and from some of the things you said to me tonight... and your body language at times... at least a part of you agrees. I think... I think you want this. I want this. I just think you are overthinking this, Dale. Just look at you chain-pulling on that pipe! You said you weren't into that, but just get a load of yourself!" It was true... I suddenly became aware I had been furiously smoking the pipe he'd packed for me... He leaned forward, and set his pipe down to cool off, and spoke gently to me "Stop holding yourself back... take what you want buddy... that's how you get things in this life!"

"By taking them?" Sam wasn't going to take no for an answer, and he was just too good at twisting the direction of this conversation. "Here, take this... I'm going to bed, Sam. And thanks for the food for thought" I thrust the pipe into his hand frostily, and marched off to my room. As I climbed into bed I heard his door slam further up the corridor, then the sound of something being thrown. Shattering. Quiet. I willed my burning mind to go blank and concentrated on sleep. Through the floor I could feel Sam pacing up and down his quarters.

Sleep came eventually, fitful and stormy... I envisioned I was sat at a computer touchscreen, 'feeling' the argumentative conversation Sam and I had parted company during the early hours of this morning... trying to grasp and remove all of the bits that came out wrong.... all the bits I didn't like... but the words on the screen were not like the conversation... I could no longer tell who said what... who's quotes belonged to who... My mind cutting and pasting furiously in my lucid dream; -it's fine if you want some- -Here! Have some- - You have a very, Very Big Mouth- -I'll fire up mine 'n we can finish what we started- -your sexuality, I just want you to- -and I'm totally cool with- - the banging? Was that a guy you were banging- -I was fucking a guy- -get your feelings out in the open- -Do you fancy a fuck?- -well I have had a couple of guys- -Sam! Thankyou- -maybe smoke another pipe with you n then- - to think that this is what I want- -everything presents itself so easily to you, Sam- -you used to getting your own way- -performance-wise I'm spectacular- -you are into bears of course- - pretty good catch you gotta agree- -I do agree mate, and please- -want to sleep with you Sam, ok- -out to force you- -know what you want- - do things on your own terms- -have the very best most life changing experience- -totally committed to it- -I've seen a different side- -second-guessing myself- -I do find you attractive, yeah- -think that things will change- -we both know things have changed- -I DO go and get what I want- -explore ourselves further- -just too good an opportunity to pass- -You want this. I want this- -look at you chain-pulling on that pipe!- -Stop holding yourself back- -take what you want-

I woke from the dream... I should have been sweating, screaming... but I wasn't. I was calm.

Smokers In Scotland

Thu, 10 May 2012 12:42:17 +0000

Really want to meet a guy of any age in Scotland who has a smoke fetish
anyone up for it?

Bound And Blackmailed Into Addiction

Tue, 08 May 2012 00:05:05 +0000

The teenage jock has his legs shackled with iron cuffs that are bolted to the concrete basement floor. His 5’6” and somewhat muscular frame support a tattered t-shirt which alludes to a high school soccer tournament. His baseball cap is simple, with his school’s mascot obvious behind the dirt smears. The boy is naked from the waist down and you can hear his chains rattle as he takes a seat on the stained lounge chair in the basement. Behind him stands a non-descript white wall. A small end table is next to him and adjacent to the chair. On the table lies a carton of Marlboro Reds, a pack of lighters, a blue and green pipe, a handgun, and a large Ziplock bag full of a green plant substance.

The boy has a flush look on his face and some residual sweat at the front of his short brown hair. It’s hard to tell if he has just finished a particularly lengthy and exhausting soccer practice or if, perhaps, the boy is upset, but as he settles in the lounge chair, he forces a smirk.

In front of the boy, we see a video camera set up on a tripod. The mic has been dismantled from the equipment, so no sound can be recorded. Through the viewfinder, we see the camera is pointed directly at the blue-eyed boy in the chair, with the side table in plain sight. His shackles are hidden by the ottoman in front of the well-worn seat.

“Pick up the carton of Reds, Jackson, open a pack, and light one,” a voice barks from behind the camera.

The boy slowly picks up the Marlboro carton and does as told. He tears the box open and gets a pack out – pausing only when the faceless voice demands he pound the smokes on his palm to pack them.

The boy rips the silver lining, and pulls a Red out of the package. The faceless voice laughs then asks: “you smoke, boy?”

“No.” The young soccer boy replies.

“You do now. Light it up, and suck the nicotine into your little soccer boy lungs, asshole. I want you to relax and hold the smoke as far in as you can… and only exhale out of your nose. You’re going to smile as you do this and look directly at the camera.” The boy cautiously obliges.

“Good boy,” the gruff voice reassures, mockingly. “Now do it again. Again. Again.” The process repeats over and over again. The boy’s chest heaves in and out. After smoking three Reds back-to-back, the boy, stares ahead. More barks come from the voice on the other side of the camera.

“Fuck yeah, fucking pussy. Gonna get those soccer lungs nice and addicted. Gonna be hard to run up and down that field when you’re wheezing, dumbass. Now time to start the real fun.”

The faceless voice instructs the boy to pick up the pipe on the table, and instructs him to fill it with the green substance in the bag.

“That’s weed, motherfucker. You’re getting a two-for-one, addiction special!” The voice commands the teen to light the pipe and hold the smoke into his lungs.

“You only get to exhale out of your nose, fucker. And keep that smoke in – let it work through your body for a few seconds. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Exhale.” The boy follows orders, coughing after the first and second hits, but soon the bowl is over. More commands now from the voice: “load up two more bowls, bitch and smoke them back to back.” The boy starts to get the rhythm by the third bowl.

“Light another Marlboro,” the voice orders, as the boy’s eyes become distant. The kid obliges the stern demand. The voice continues: “Yeah, fucker… gonna get you up to 2 or 3 packs a day in no time.”

From the side of the dimly lit room, echoes form the faint sound of more chains. Then, the frame of a smaller boy becomes obvious. He’s chained by the legs, with arms cuffed behind him, and a chain around his neck connecting to the arm and leg binds. His crew cut light brown hair is visible underneath the duct tape blindfold wrapped haphazardly around his head. The boy’s stature mimics that of the boy in the chair, but he’s a few inches shorter. The smaller boy is wearing Umbro shorts with nothing else on his dirt and sweat-filled body. The unknown voice pushes the smaller boy into the light, and demands he get on his knees.

“Ok, Jackson,” the voice barks, “face the camera, smile really big, puff on that Red like it was the only thing keeping you alive, and make Connor suck your dick. And see that gun on the table, there? I want you to put it to Connor’s head. That pistol’s unloaded, but I have the real thing with me: loaded and pointed right at all of you. Don’t make me use it.”

The man presses record on the video-camera and says: “action!” Jackson shoots a pleading look of disbelief at the mysterious voice, but is quickly met with a yelled command to do it “now.”

So Jackson takes the smaller boy’s head, pulls it toward his crotch, places the pistol at his temple, and tells him to suck.

More commands come rapid-fire from the voice off camera: “Choke him with your cock, boy. And smile that cocky soccer smile into the camera. Whether you are or not, you’re going to act like you’re enjoying this. Make him gag on that 7-inch pussy boy dick.”

The smaller boy starts to tear up, but the orders keep coming. “Keep that gun right at his temple, bitch! Yeah! Keep puffing on that Marlboro, boy! Every time he goes up and down on your dick, you should be inhaling and exhaling. Grab his hair and make him work that cock.”

The viewfinder shows a smiling, smoking soccer jock pushing a smaller boy up and down on his dick. The cherry on Jackson’s Red is lighting up repeatedly, as the soccer boy takes in the strong nicotine. Then, strong exhales stream from his nose as the other boy slobbers on his hard cock.

“Fucking perfect,” the voice laments. “Keep pumping his face, but I want you to load another bowl of green and show it to the camera.”

Jackson does as told, trying to ignore the moans and whines of the boy impaled on his cock. “And make sure to show the camera that giant bag of weed you have there, Mr. Jackson. In fact, why don’t you hold it with the gun as Connor sucks you. Make sure it’s in the frame.”

Jackson loads the big pipe, trying to stay focused, Red in the ashtray next to him. He holds up the big bag of weed and smiles for the camera, then puts the weed in the same hand as the gun as he forces Connor up and down.

The voice has more commands. “Keep smiling at the camera, boy as you point the gun at Connor’s temple and suck in that wonderful weed smoke. Mmmm.” A pause. “Now, I want you to cum in Connor’s mouth and all over his face before you finish that Red and that pipe. You have 5 minutes to do it all; starting now.”

Jackson gives a brief worried look, before focusing on the task. He puffs down the weed, pistol at Connor’s head, pausing every so often to shoot a cocky smile at the camera, as instructed. Connor’s jaw is hurting as he tries not to gag on Jackson’s dick.

The faceless voice instructs Connor to focus on Jackson’s dick and nothing else. “No teeth, and don’t even think about throwing up!”. The scared boy does as told.

Jackson starts manhandling the smaller boy, pushing his head down over and over again as he grunts and puffs. The chains on Jackson’s legs rattle, as do Connor’s. Both boys moan and grunt. Connor’s whimpers become muffled by the dick in his mouth. But none of the sound – the orders of the voice off camera, the grunting, even the constant flicks of the lighter – is being recorded. What the video does show is Jackson sitting in the lounge chair, smoking with a smug look on his face, and forcing Connor on his cock with a gun at the kneeling boy’s temple.

Behind the camera, a figure connected to the voice steps briefly into the light. Jackson can see the evil smirk on the man’s face as he holds a third boy in a headlock. The third boy – around the same size as Connor – has five Marlboro Reds duct-taped in his mouth. His huge scared eyes are framed by the man’s gun – which is placed directly at the third boy’s temple.

“As you know, Jackson,” the man lets out, “this gun, unlike yours, is actually loaded. You have three minutes to cum in Connor’s mouth… and I want you to smile a proud smile at the camera after you’ve done it.”

The man stands about 6’2” and has a muscular build – deep, surly voice – and somewhat crazy twinkle in his eye. But the obvious identifying mark nowhere near the camera’s view is the man’s police uniform –which he wears proudly as he puffs his Marlboro. The boy he’s holding in a headlock is completely naked except for the crude Marlboro gag, and he’s shackled and chained in a similar fashion as Connor. His ass is wet and lubed. The police man takes a deep drag on his Red, then bends the third boy over one of three empty dog cages in the basement dungeon.

“This is going to be fun,” the perverted cop taunts, then faces the third boy.

“Carter, you smoke?” The Marlboros taped in his mouth, the third boy slowly shakes his head no. The police man responds: “You do now.” The man gets out a lighter, then gives a stern look to the boy.

“Now listen, faggot, I’m going to light these Reds, all 5 of them, and you’re going to focus on nothing more than puffing them down. If you get sick, I will pistol-whip you. All three of you boys are smokers now, you hear?” The boy nods his head in the affirmative. The cop grins big, as the sound of Connor sucking Jackson echoes in the room.

Flick. The man moves the lighter to each of the 5 cigs – pausing a second or two for each so the boy can inhale. And when the boy forgets, the man reminds him with a quick bark and a smack on the ass. The cop enjoys the last couple of puffs on his smoke as he mashes it out and lights another. “You’ve got 90 seconds, Jackson.”

Jackson’s hard dick is pulsing inside Connor’s hot mouth. Connor’s tears are running down, getting lost as they fall into Jackson’s pubic bush.

“Keep smiling, fucker!” the man behind the camera reminds Jackson. Jackson turns to the camera and takes a couple of hits from the weed pipe.

“Good boy!” the cop exclaims, as he pulls out his 9-inch meat, placing it at Carter’s hole. “Keep puffing, both of you.” The man starts to push into Carter’s ass, gun to his head, as Carter winces and puffs.

“Feel the nicotine in you, boy. Get used to it. Keep puffing, bitch!” The man yells at Carter as he pushes his lubed cock into the boy’s virgin hole. “Fuck yeah!” he sighs.

“And you, Jackson, make sure you keep looking at the camera and smiling. Keep holding that gun at Connor’s head. Show off that big bag of weed you have, Jackson.” The man barks more orders as he pins Carter right next to the camera. Jackson has no choice but to watch the boy getting raped as he looks toward the lens, puffs, smiles, and face-fucks Connor.

The sealed basement is getting smoky and dank. And Jackson’s getting close to cumming.

Jackson bucks and squirms in his chair as he’s told to keep alternating between sucking on the weed pipe and Reds. The cop waves his pistol around, and starts to let the boys in on his plan as he pumps in and out of Carter’s ass.

“You see, boys,” he says, “you’re all sons of a judge – a judge that happens to be putting a lot of my buddies behind bars lately. Seems some other cops are closing in on my little drug ring here, and we can’t have that can we?” The man’s mocking tone and evil smirk arfe punctuated with aside commands to continue puffing on the Reds.

Jackson continues to buck in the chair as he focuses on getting off.

“When you cum, Jackson, I want you to be sucking in on that cig. And every time you cum and smoke, I want you to think about this moment. That’s gonna be a lot of times, once we get you up to 3 or 4 packs a day.”

Jackson takes Connor’s head and pushes it down on his cock, letting out a big groan and smiling as he faces the camera. A slight gag sound comes from Connor’s mouth, as Jackson pulls his dick out and spurts cum all over his brother’s face.

“Fucking hot, fucker! Paint the boy’s face with your weed and Marlboro seed!” The man keeps pummeling Carter as he commands Connor to stand and face the video camera – showing the jizz all over his face.

Now the man pumps Carter with more vigor, as he commands Jackson to load Connor’s mouth with 5 cigs – just like Carter has. Jackson does as told while holding the unloaded gun to Connor’s head, all within view of the camera.

The man smiles a mischievous grin as he unloads his cum into Carter’s virgin hole. Carter, tears drying on his cheek, continues puffing the cigs as the man collapses on top of him and pushes him into the cage mesh. The man pulls his 9-inch dick out of the boy’s ass, and slaps the boy’s face with cum and ass juice, before ripping out the cig gag and reloading with five fresh Reds.

The man switches off the video camera, places the two smaller boys in two of the cages, then has a seat next to Jackson.

“So here’s the deal. All three of you listen up. Your dad’s digging his nose in where it doesn’t belong. And since more drastic measures might take a little longer to plan, here’s how you’re going to help ME right now.”

The man tosses the bag of weed back to Jackson, and tells him to load up another bowl while he smokes.

“I’ve got a lot of money coming in because of the product we sell out in the schools. I can’t risk losing that money. And that’s where the judge’s sons come in. You see, if YOU’RE the ones selling the weed, he might think twice about sentencing you to harsh terms. And make no mistake, you WILL be the ones selling weed for me.”

At the command of the police officer, Jackson starts puffing the pipe.

“And not only are you three going to be moving the product for me at the middle school and high school, but you’re also going to be some of my biggest clients. I will personally make sure you each smoke an ounce a week. You’re going to find a way to skip practice at least three-times a week and report here where you will give me all of the money you get from selling. Understood?” Jackson nods yes while the other boys moan.

The man continues: “And when you’re not smoking weed, Reds will be your God. Four packs a day is the goal. We’ll get there in a month-or-so.” The man pauses while he opens two packs and tosses them in the cages. “Light up, boys,” he commands.

“You see, I just can’t have you boys showing off that squeaky clean image any more – when we know what fags you are. Plus, just so happens, my son plays for a rival school’s soccer team. It would be really unfortunate if they didn’t win district this year, wouldn’t it, Jackson? You’re going to lose that game on purpose, and for good measure we’ll give you a nice smoking addiction to help slow you down on the field.” The man puts his gun to Jackson’s head and asks if he gets the arrangement. Jackson slowly responds with a ‘yes’ nod.

“Good,” the man replies. “You even think of crossing me, Jackson, and this video of you face-fucking your brother and enjoying that smoke gets out faster than you can say ‘facebook’. I’d hate to have such a huge scandal shock such a respected family in this town. I can read the papers now, ‘Judge’s Son Accused of Rape, Incest, Sodomy, and Drug Dealing.” The man lets out a big laugh as he enjoys his cigarette. “And I almost forgot about the best part: your asses are all mine now, and the only thing worse than pissing off a drug-dealing cop, is pissing off a pimp.”

The man pauses for a second, then laughs. “That bag of weed right there, is three ounces. Before you leave today, I will put an electric cage around each one of your dicks. If you don’t report back to me tomorrow at 4 pm with all of that sold and $1500, you will get a shock a minute until I see you. If you’re not here before 5 pm, this video gets posted online, turned into the cops, and you might have to explain why you have so much weed on you. Understood?”

Jackson lets out a defeated sigh, then shakes his head yes.

“Good, faggot,” the man says, “now, I’ll let you all go for the night when you each finish a pack of Reds. But until then, each of your asses are mine.”

Smoke Down South

Mon, 07 May 2012 18:19:47 +0000

Inspired by SmokesUK, thought it could be a good idea for all of the smokers from the south west to meet up?

what do you think?

lets make it happen

Meet In Stockholm?

Sat, 05 May 2012 20:36:28 +0000

hi lads. 35yo reds smoker going to Stockholm on 4 and 5 May. Anyone interested in a meet. Message me if you are.

Thanks guys

Jamie

North East Uk

Sat, 05 May 2012 14:37:28 +0000

Hi Guys,

There's been a few posts recently from guys in the north UK trying to arrange some meets. I'm in the north east near Darlington and well up for meeting other local guys. Can travel in the north within reason. Come on guys there's a few of us here - lets get some meets arranged

Co-Addictions

Fri, 04 May 2012 22:37:52 +0000

jjmidwestsmoke's comment on coffee and smoking in the "How addicted are you?" thread got me thinking: For regular smokers, certain activities regularly trigger a need to light up. Drinking coffee and beer are classic triggers, as are meals. I generally smoke about a pack and a half a day, and I gotta have a cigarette after each meal, or if I'm drinking coffee or beer. But there are other times I find it especially hard to go without. Driving, for instance--I could have just smoked a cigarette, but if I have to drive somewhere, I'm gonna smoke again. Other times I can't go without smoking: right after waking up, right after I shower at night, while reading, and any time I'm working at my computer. And like any true fetisher, I can't get off without at least thinking about smoking; truth is, I haven't jacked off without smoking at least a couple of cigarettes in many years.

So what about the rest of you? What activities do you find it hard or impossible to do without lighting up?

In 1999;- My Transformation Into A Pipe-Boy

Fri, 04 May 2012 01:26:29 +0000

In 1999.
It was 1999 when I met the man who owns me. His name is Sir. He has another name on a birth certificate that his buddies are allowed to call him... but his real name... his true title to be called by me, his boy, is Sir.
I have no name these days other than 'boy' or 'son', or whatever else he chooses to call me when angered or horny... but on the evening we met in that London bar I was still just a single 20yr old scrawny wannabe called Jay... this is the story of that night.
I turned a lot of heads as I walked across the crowded room to the bar, including his... though I didn't notice him at the time. He was lost in a sea of leather and a cloud of smoke at the other end of the room within a crowd of friends. I was also lost, in an 'out of my depth' way and felt like the outsider I was. What the hell was I doing? Why did I put myself through this? This bar is for Bears and Leather and Cigars and BLUF and... me, apparently.
I had finally plucked up the courage to drive all day and walk in here, and I was determined to see it through tonight. My only night in London, and my only chance to see a REAL Leather/Bear night for real... and not just wanking over porn on my PC monitor, or on the web reading roleplay fiction. I felt sick of fiction and all the glassy eyed wooden-acting of porno... it wasn't enough for me anymore it seemed... I needed something more. Something real!
So I'm 200 miles away from my home, stood smack in the middle of THE established 'bears-only' bar of London on Leather&Uniform nite. In jeans and an Iron Maiden t-shirt with long hair!
In the vanilla corner, weighing in at 13stone, from Manchester City, gentlemen, please welcome, the 'Fish Out Of Water' !
Despite feeling tiny and out of place, a part of me was also relishing it. What's the worst that would happen? I'd either get kicked out, I was already getting laughed and pointed at, or I'd get exactly what I'd hoped for... an 'encounter' of some sort. Something, anything for me to dream about and remember on those night's when my PC just wasn't enough.
As I stood there I noticed a man to my right looking at me with a smirk on his face as he waited for his drink order. I looked over but didn't meet his eyes, instead taking in his boots, breeches, Langlitz jacket and Muir cap. Essential Leatherman. Cliche'd I know, but fuck... what a turn on! I could smell the hide he wore and it made my dick jerk.
"The place you're lookin' for is other end of Soho kid, you'll only get chucked out of here if you hang about lookin' sheepish, this ain't the bar for you" he dismissed me with a wave toward the door as he picked up his drinks. "Nah, I'm fine just here thanks mate- had a look through the window before I came in" I replied, trying to look cool and collected. "I see... hmm... so you walk in here without giving a fuck for the dress code lookin' like a hippy or a fuckin' university student eh?" he snarled.
I was expecting something like this. He stalked off back over to the rear of the room and out to the beer garden with a group of about five men stood smoking together at a table, and I watched as he stood telling them his 'punk at the wrong bar' joke. All of the men looked over. I met their collective eyes briefly before staring at my boots in defeat. He was right. I began to finish my drink and head out up the road to another place when a wolf-whistle rang out from the group, one of the bears there was grinning at me as the others stared, chuckling to themselves. He was hot as hell and part of me wanted to go over, but couldn't stand for the humiliation so I looked away.
I knocked my drink back and stood, looking one last time across at the Leatherbear and to my surprise he was still staring at me but the grin had disappeared. I felt frozen on the spot, such was the intensity of his glare from the dark smokey corner of the garden. He pointed a black thing at me and then jabbed it toward me before turning it like a curled finger into an unmistakable beckoning motion, not a request... it was an order. Get your ass over here! I realised he'd pointed the bent stem of a large pipe at me, and sure enough he brought it to his mouth and lit it up as I considered the alternatives... before I made my way across to his table.
As I got there he was still engrossed in lighting the pipe, making a big cloud of sweet and spicy smoke as he danced fire over the bowl. His buddies said little, as if waiting for him, waiting to listen to what he wanted to say to me. I realised from this little show and their behaviour that he was the Alpha here. I suddenly lost my nerve and my brave-face and got butterflies as I took all detail of him and his friends in, which made me realise I maybe wasn't ready to come over here after all.
He was a Tank, maybe 6'2ish and maybe 40ish, real muscle with a firm ball-gut, looked like he weighed 20stone, he wore an outfit that only a Leatherbear could get away with and not look camp as an Armani tent. White striped chaps over army surplus camo pants, workmans strapboots and a cop-style bar vest with white piping over an X-harness that matched his straining bicep and wrist straps. His arms, neck and upper chest were tattooed sleeves of ink that must've cost him thousands.
Unlike his BLUF-clone friends he wore no headwear, only a short army style high'n'tight flattop which darkened out into the fullest of full beards... even though it was fairly short trimmed and faded into his H&T his 'stache was far bushier and filled his cheeks and lower jaw out kinda like mutton-chops-over-beard, it was so dense I couldn't even see his lips as they sucked the smoke down into his lungs when he lit that pipe of his... he had the kind of thick black beard that makes a man look like an angry bulldog.
Fuck, I went weak at the knees, and he knew it. He knew he had me from the start, like a snared rabbit.
"My buddies here" he said, before pocketing his lighter and clamping the broad stem of the pipe in his jaw talking to me around it. "They and I are having an after hours party back at my house, and I... well... we were wondering......" he took the pipe out and jabbed it roughly into my shoulder, causing me to shift uncomfortably. "Wondering if you were up for coming back with us... I need a boy to serve drinks and... whatever..... so I can relax with my friends here" I noticed how he constantly used his pipe to point and gesture with... as if to make even more use of it than just a smoking vessel.
"If you say you don't want to that's fine... but I'm only going to ask once, then I'll ask the bootbrush boy by the bar who's desperate to be invited. Say no and you might as well get out of the bar, boy, but I have a feeling you might be even more desperate than him" He replaced the pipe and sank back in his chair with a puff of satisfaction and laughed with his mates at my face... I must've looked so shocked!
I thought I'd faint, so fast was my heart palpatating. I couldn't believe that he'd called me over to ask this and that he'd been so completely up-front in his request. He was clearly so used to having boys and men doing what he wanted that he'd forgotten his manners, and I set myself to retort with some glib witty remarks about him and his stupid pipe and friends, before turning and walking... Fuck him! I'd give him what he expected.
Then I surprised them. I surprised myself even more, because the same part of me that drove all day to get here came flooding back, and in that micro-second I resolved to see just how far I was willing to go with this... I'd never had full sex before but I knew exactly the type of man I wanted to have it with, and if this was my only chance then I would fucking take it!
"What do I call you" I said. One or two men around us chuckled at my cheekiness.
"My name's... not important... boy. To you... for the rest of the time in my presence- I'm called Sir." More chuckles as he exchanged glances with his friends as they waited for my reaction.
With calmness and measured tone I said: "Mr Not Important. SIR. I would be pleased to join you in your home to entertain your guests here with drinks or......(shrug).... whatever. I'm honoured that you asked me... Sir." I theatrically bowed with a wry satisfied smile on my face as he as his friends pissed themselves laughing, and I laughed too, but it was short lived. Because then he turned the tables on me truly.
He knocked the pipe on his knee and some of the ash fell onto his boot and the floor, and without a word he gestured to me with a point of his pipe and a shift of the boot.
I wasn't sure what he wanted so I stood there in silence along with the others as he cleaned out the large rusticated bowl and waited for a moment, pulling a black leather pouch from his vest pocket. He flipped it open with his thumb, and re-filled the pipe. Then he suddenly looked up and fixed me with a stern glare.
"I find you rude, boy. Nobody is rude to me. But I'm giving you the chance to show me that you're sorry... you've told me you're interested and I want you to prove it. You either ARE, or you're just full of shit... Now I've just issued you an order but you're so damn thick I guess I'll have to spell it out for you... If that ash isn't off my fucking boot by the time I've lit up my pipe then I will go over and ask the bootbrush boy to take your place. You know how much you want to come with us, so why be all cocky and rude. Everyone here want's you to suck my boot clean, boy, not because they dislike you... actually they will be very very turned on, and respect you all the more for showing us that you have the balls to back up your mouth."
I stood there with a racing heart. Checkmate. He had me backed into a corner! Either I admit defeat and submit to licking the gritty boot clean, or leave with my tail between my legs and look even more defeated. Either way... he would win.
He passed the lighter over the bowl with his eyes locked on mine.......
I dropped to his boot as fast as lightning, thinking to myself I must be crazy!
His friends and a number of other random Leather-folk who had been watching our encounter all cheered his victory as he sat there contentedly smoking, and I realised they were also cheering me! Words of encouragement and praise came from the the Leatherbear and his friends as he coached me on which area to lick clean next.
Within a few minutes I'd spit-shined both his boots and the patch of leather on his knee where he'd tapped out his pipe, and I came up for air with a face smelling like an ashtray, which for a non-smoker like me felt completely horrible. I began to wipe my face, but he grabbed me by my long wavy hair and pulled me up close to him between his legs. He sniffed my face like a bloodhound. "Leave it on there, son. You smell fuckin hot!" I felt gross and wanted a shower, but by now I'd lost most of my inhibitions and figured that I'd have to put up with smelling like this if it meant getting to go home with a hot hairy musclebear who shared the same leather and roleplay fetishes as I did.
Within an hour it had been decided to cut the bar-nite short and carry on our evening back to the Leatherbear's house. I'd learned his name was Ade... probably short for Aiden or something, however I'd decided I'd better not call him anything other than 'Sir' for tonight until I'd struck up a friendship. He'd made it clear that he liked my sassy attitude, but if I got too resistant to the roleplay and fought it, or if I said 'no' to anything he required of me this evening, I would be shown the door and on my way home. I did NOT want that to happen, and resolved that I'd leave my ego and pride at the door. There were no bar-folk here to see me look stupid... only Ade and his buddies, and to my relief they didn't ever actually speak to me directly anyways... only ever through him.
His house was quite large and modern with lots of rustic touches, and as I scanned the library-like main room I could see Ade had very good taste and the deep pockets to indulge it. His house was stunning, very manly with a 'den' feel to the whole place just as I expected. Here and there in the many bookshelves were gaps housing a pipe on it's own stand, there were maybe thirty or more scattered within the books at random. Almost all of them were large bents or freehands, most were like the one he smoked at the bar, but every one was different from what I could make out. For some unknown reason I thought maybe that he just smoked a pipe at the bars for added visual impact, like a part of the leather roleplay. I now realised that the pipes and the leather were more than just a costume to him.
Here was a semi-retired professional man who worked from home. Leather was his lifestyle choice- he seemed to live for wearing the stuff... and smoking was his vice. One of many. I knew I'd have to put up with the smoke and occasional ash-licking to get in his favour... fine- if that's what it took.
Things moved fast from here, back in his home HE was boss, and made it clear from the beginning. He took the pipe from his vest pocket and placed it on an empty pipe-stand within the books, and walked across the room to pick out a different one as he addressed me. He took down a very large smooth jet black pipe from the bookshelf, this pipe was less bent with silver engraved celtic band around the square-shaped stem and another one around the broad thick rim of a faceted hexagonal bowl. It looked hammer-heavy and very expensive. He tested it by blowing down on it, then flipped his tobacco pouch open and filled it expertly as he gave me my orders for the evening.
"Kitchen's at the end of the hall, boy. The room you will be using tonight is across from it. Get in there and remove all your clothing, and dress in the items I have put on the bench for you... you look about the same size as my usual boys so I know they'll look incredible on you. then go to the bar in the kitchen and prepare drinks for the six of us from the list I left there" Wow! Ade had really planned his nite out to go smoothly... this was obviously routine for him.
"We will be in here waiting for you so get your ass movin' son, don't keep us waiting or you will be disciplined."
Holy shit, here we go... it's getting serious now... I'd better not fuck this up! I got as far as the door when he called after me across the room. "Boy..."
I turned to him and waited for him to finish his lighting up, casting a nervous glance around the room at the others, who were also busying themselves with fine cigars or pipes from his collection. They acted like I wasn't there and none of this was unusual to them at all... which I was relieved at due to my self-conciousness in all of this. He blew a cloud of smoke toward me and looked up from the pipe as he tamped it with a silver tool.
"From here onward you do NOT speak unless spoken to. When you're in MY house you BELONG to ME. The only thing to come out of that rude mouth is either Yes Sir, or No Sir... if I ask you to perform a task and you say No Sir... even once... EVEN.....ONCE! You will be going home early... I won't hold it against you... but just bear that in mind, boy, are we clear?"
"Yes Sir" I replied submissively. Part of me really didn't like getting ordered around and I wanted to talk back at him, but knew that one false move would ruin my chances. "Good boy!..." he chuckled. "I hope you enjoy yourself tonight boy, and get what you came lookin' for... now go get changed. nothing but leather is allowed to be worn in this house."
I turned to leave and added: "Yes Sir... I expect you will have to lose those cotton camo's then!" and beat a hasty retreat down the hallway- pleased with myself, listening to the men laughing at my sassy response with Ade, who I then overheard agreeing with them that it would be nice to have a boy in the house with a little bit of 'fight and attitude' for a change... and that his usual subs and bottoms tended to bore him lately.
My 'attitude' changed when I saw the room where I was to get changed. It was his play-room, not a bedroom as I had assumed, there had clearly been as much money and time spent in here as the rest of his wonderful home. One side of me was in paradise- as I looked around I saw the kinds of things I'd been wanking over for years in videos of boys being abused in fully equipped dungeons. The other side of me was scared shitless of what the rest of the night may hold in store for me at the hands of Ade and his friends. No problem... At any time I could always say 'No Sir' if it got too tough... he'd made it clear that all this was consentual after all.
I walked past a metal puppy cage toward the padded bench where he told me my evenings attire would be waiting for me. I stripped naked and began to dress to his requirements, barely able to control myself as I wriggled into a tight pair of leather knee-length shorts and snapped locks in the buckled straps at my legs and waist, wondering where the keys were that would let me out if I said 'No Sir'. I lubed up, then fed my balls and raging hardon through a tight cockring in the front before zipping a codpiece flap closed that denied me access to them. Then came the thick leather collar around my neck- attached to the shorts-belt with a strap running up my back. I realised that the short length of the strap meant that I couldn't stoop or bend without keeping my back straight, or risk choking myself. Good way to keep his boys standing to attention, I supposed.
Next I buckled on some wide ankle restraints with attached padded-sole leather socks and some soft thin leather gloves attached to thick lockable cuffs, and snapped matching locks onto these and the collar at the front. I looked at myself in the huge wall mirror. I looked like a slave. A manservant. A houseboy. And I had begun to feel like one too... and it was really really beginning to finally turn me on. I realised I'd hit jackpot with this man... A lottery win in fact. First time out on the scene and I'd been given the chance to realise my wildest fantasies. I felt like screaming out in a strange mix of fear, disbelief and excitement... but just settled for an excited grin at the sight of ME... in all this GEAR! I set off for the kitchen to make drinks.
He was waiting for me, arms folded. I noticed immediately his camo trousers were gone from under the leather chaps, and only a bulging zip-fronted jockstrap remained! I felt exposed to him and weak at the knees, but tried to hide it. "How do I look Sir" I asked. He just stood there a moment, before turning and began preparing the drinks he'd asked me to make. "You've really never done any of this kinda stuff before, have you boy?" He let out a long sigh and made me come over to help him with the drinks. "I'm only gonna show you how to do this once, and I'm only gonna tell you once more... Yes Sir... No Sir... are the ONLY words you are allowed to say. Don't ask me how you look... you KNOW how fuckin incredible you look!"
I beamed with pride, and he smiled. "If you do well tonight you will be paid very good money for serving the drinks, but just so you know, those other guys won't touch you. But I sure as hell am going to do far more than that, and you are going to do your best, for me- and for your own self respect- to endure and enjoy it. We assumed from your reluctance to take the ash from my boot that you don't smoke... which means I'm gonna have even more fun than I thought... the other boys I use smoke at least cigarettes, but I make them take pipe or cigar smoke... so it's a little easier for them to take what I give 'em. You are probably gonna find it a lot harder... but that's what my buddies come here to see...only one of that bunch is local... most other guys travel across the country to visit me, to experience a truly HOT 'Leather' scene that I provide for them, like a niche-market tourguide you could say... they pay a LOT of money to watch me force smoke down the houseboy's lungs. They PAY to watch me make 'em gag and choke on my cock REAL hard and for a REAL lonnng time... Just so you know what you are in for if you stay here and carry these drinks back through that door over there... now I'm gonna go back and sit down. If you want to leave you can, but I really want you to stay and make us both a LOT of money tonight... they know you're a virgin to the world of Leather, and they know you don't smoke... so they will pay double to see you forced... and they'll pay again to see you bound and gagged and used like my toy... the more you make it look like you're resisting, even harder and hornier they will get... but you have my word they will NOT touch you." Then he took my chin in his hands and came close, looking deep into my eyes. "And I want you to stay for more than that.. because I think you are a VERY good looking young man and I know we both want this to be the first time of many more... I'll hope to see you in a few minutes, boy"
With those words he gave me an encouraging pat on my leathered ass and left me dumbfounded holding the silver tray of drinks.
The gravity of my situation weighed me down now. I was expected to perform, to serve, and to beg, and to take all he dished out. What they didn't know was I may as well have been a complete virgin... this would be only my second time, and the first time was a fun but nervous and fumbled experience that lasted about 15 minutes. And was almost a year ago! What if I made myself look silly... what if he wanted me to deepthroat him?? What if I vomited on him!?
And then there was his pipe- He was right, I didn't smoke and apart from stealing one of my fathers cigars as a teen, I've never wanted to start. The fact he smoked a pipe was my only problem with this guy, and the fact he was SO into it and never without one made it worse... though at least it didn't make him look grandfather-ish. The way he handled a pipe only added to his masculinity and authority, but of course that was the point.
But then I had a brainwave! I'd go even further with the leather for them, and hood myself! I remembered a padded hood among the vast collection in the playroom, it had pepperpot eyes and only 2 tiny grommets for noseholes and another at the mouth... and if Sir want's a little resistance then he shall get some, because I planned to lock it on! I had jacked off many times over the thought of trying one on someday and now was my chance! It would stop the Leathermen from seeing my face if I got embarrassed, and stop Ade feeding anything into my mouth other than a very small amount of pipesmoke, which I was sure I could take without problems.
I hurried back into the playroom and grabbed the hood from a long line of leather and rubber headwear on the wall. It felt heavy due to being padded and lined in soft silky leather. Here we go. I took a deep breath and slipped it over my face, aligning the eyes with my own. I could only see directly ahead through a mesh of leather, and felt my nose slip into a dent as the cold metal of the grommets fed fresh air up into my nostrils.
I almost lost control and ejaculated there and then, but took a couple of deep wheezing breaths through my three grommets and began to collect my thoughts as I calmly reached around and laced my own head into bondage. I tied my hair back and zipped it all up tight within a leather flap that locked enclosed over the backlaces and down the back of my neck, snapped the lock onto a collar D-ring, and took the key and hid it under my clothing. It felt like I was locked inside a soft leather pillow... and the gagging effect of padded leather over my mouth meant that I couldn't tell him where I'd hidden the key! He would never have to know why I'd done it, I'd make him think I'd done it to please them... and also I'd have something to muffle my cries when he decided he wanted to bugger me in front of his friends as I didn't want them to see me cry or yelp too much... I still had some pride, after all.
I went back to the kitchen and carefully took the men their drinks. I received a round of applause and a few chuckled comments when I walked in... but Ade did NOT look amused. After I'd stood in the middle of the room, and each man had taken their drink and taken time to check me out in all my gear, I put down my tray. Ade... or Sir as I had now begun to think of him... beckoned me with another gesture of pipe and shift of boot.
I went obediently to him and dropped to one knee. "Good boy." He sat and looked me over as he puffed on the huge black pipe. "Lick my boots, boy." I looked down at the boot. "You can't can you... you can't clean my boots, or take my cock in your mouth with that hood locked on... can you boy?" I shook my head. "Are you gonna give me the key so I can make you take my cock, son?" I slowly shook my head again. "Do you even know where the key is?" I shrugged and shook my head. And the room erupted in laughter and applause. Sir sank back in his chair and laughed. "What's the matter boy, don't you want Daddy's dick in your mouth" I tried to say "No Sir", but couldn't. Ade laughed, "What was that? No Sir? Well I don't remember hearing a 'No Sir'... and a headshake doesn't count, son... you have be able to to say ''NO SIR' if you don't want me to do something to you!" A wicked smile crept across his face under that beautiful dark beard.
"Nm Smmr... Mmph MMmmmphh!" was all I could manage through the little grommet with the tight padded leather holding my jaw closed and my lips pursed tight. Oh well done me! I'd just taken away my own right to refuse!
Sir puffed thoughtfully for what seemed like an hour, before leaning forward and blowing a long stream of vanilla-spicy smoke right at the holes in my hood. I felt some in my sinuses and lungs but it felt ok, not enough to hit me. He then took out his silver pipe tool and used the sharp pick to dig into the mouth of the hood and pop out the metal grommet there, giving me more air and a slightly larger hole.
"Hmm... I don't think my cock is gonna fit through there... so I guess you've got off lightly in one way, boy. Unfortunately for YOU it means I will make you suffer in other ways... I KNOW why you've done this... You don't want to take my smoke do you? Well you're going to take it whether you want to or not, and you've just made me ruin a £300 hood, so I'm REALLY gonna get my money's worth!"
Oh fuck, what have I done!? I started at the hood with my gloved hands, and he bellowed: "GET THOSE HANDS AWAY BOY!" I dropped them for a second, scared at his outburst, and then leapt up to retrieve the key, only to have my legs swept from under me by a booted foot. I hit the floor and he dragged me back by my leather feet, and pinned me down with both his legs on my ass. "SOMEBODY FETCH ME THREE LOCKS FROM THE PLAYROOM" I looked up and with my limited vision I saw a pair of shiny knee-length riding boots and leather breeches stride out the door and down the corrider.
I began to struggle against him and tried to cry out for help, but all I could manage was a series of muffled grunts. The Leatherman in the shiny boots returned. Then I felt him fumble with the D-rings on my ankle cuffs as he snapped a lock on, and he let me loose to crawl away on my hands and knees. I made for the door but fell on my shoulder as he took my left wrist and pulled it behind me, locking it to a D-ring on the side of the waist belt above my butt cheek. I yelled and screamed, trying to kick at him as he locked my last free limb to the right ring, but it was no use... I had been overpowered!
I tried to grab for the locks and wrench my arms free, but they were far enough apart that I couldn't reach them, and my hands were palms outward so when I twisted too much I hurt my shoulders! I just layed there gasping, bound and gagged on the floor, pinned down under Sir's boot. "I gave you the choice, son. You KNEW what you were agreeing when you came in here with that tray of drinks... that WAS your point of no return... you knew that and yet you STILL came in here with that hood on... that YOU locked onto yourself... and now you can't even say No Sir. You can't even beg me to stop, or tell me when you've had enough of my pipesmoke, or my cock up your ass later tonight. And it's all your own fault, boy. You can't service me orally any more so it's gonna take me MUCH longer to cum." Do you agree to let me fuck your sweet ass for twice as long huh? Can you take that kind of abuse BOY?" I shook my head and tried to say 'No Sir' but couldn't. "Have you ever been fucked?" I shook my head again and banged it on the floor in frustration as he laughed at me. "Well well well... a virgin!" The Leathermen whooped and clapped, and I felt myself being slowly dragged me back across the room to his chair.
"Well I didn't hear you say NO so I assume you must WANT to smoke a pipe then!" He lifted me up like I weighed nothing and sat me on a high stool, tucking my legs behind one of the bars. The collar and back-strap forced me to sit at attention and I knew if I struggled with my legs I would fall hard to the floor. He went back to his chair and took up his pipe, tamped and lit it, and came toward me.
I gave up resisting much more at this point as I knew that I'd been beaten, and looked at Sir. I resigned to my fate. Here was a man of such beauty, such power, that he deserved to be served by the likes of me. He wanted me to take his smoke... I'd take it. He wanted to bugger me... so I will endure and enjoy. I was living my sexual fantasy... and this was the price I had to pay.
He took my head in his hands and a deep hit off his pipe, locked his lips over the mouth hole and forced sweet tasting smoke into my lungs until I felt sure I'd burst like a balloon. I exhaled and saw a jet of white blow away from me, and felt my lungs burn and my head spin. I coughed a little, but not as much as I'd thought I would... it didn't taste as bad as I thought either... that wasn't so bad! Again he repeated, I didn't cough as much this time, but kept getting buzzed from the nicotine. I began swaying a little in my leather prison, and steadied myself as best I could, waiting for him to hit me again.
Instead I felt the zip of my shorts being undone, and looked down as best I could to see. My cock sprang out- engorged with blood due to the tight cockring of the slave-shorts. He tucked the flap tidy under my ass and walked round behind me, then came back with another pipe. He held it up in front of my leatherbound face for me to study; this one was really big, very steeply bent much like the majority of his collection, and of a tan colour with a burned rim around the bowl, very rough in texture, and the short thick stem had an almost 90-degree bend with a very wide hole in the broad mouthpiece. "This is your pipe, boy... now usually I strap a gasmask to the houseboy's face and feed him smoke from a tube or from my lungs like you just got... but since you are being stubborn and not telling me where the key is, I can't use a gasmask on you... and I had to wreck one of my best looking pieces of headwear to give these gentlemen their show tonight."
He took his tobacco pouch and began packing the huge pipe as he spoke to me. "You'll find that this blend of tobacco is nice and sweet, reasonably easy on the lungs, so you might not have too much trouble with it at first, but as you take more air down then more tobacco will burn in the bowl. It'll get a lot stronger as the density of smoke increases... and since you only have tiny nose holes, you're gonna be smoking this pipe like a vacuum cleaner! You can try breathing out your nose if you want a break from your smoke, but then you'll be allowing smoke to escape out the bowl like a chimney... and it'll go right up there and scorch your nose! And as I'm sure you're gonna find out... pipesmoke smells nice but not when it's this close to your nostrils! I'm coaching you through all this because since I can't let you out of that hood if you get sick with all the nicotine you're feeding into your bloodstream... I've had boys vomit before I've finished with 'em... and this thing's probably gonna take you at least 30 minutes to finish!"
I looked about the room nervously. Some of the Leathermen were sat or stood smoking and rubbing their baskets in horny anticipation, and a couple were already stroking themselves at the sight of me and my hopeless situation, and I caught sight of myself in a big mirror on the back wall of the room; a leatherbound, hooded, boy-anonymous sat perched on a stool with an angry purple hardon at the mercy of a Leatherbear, pipe in mouth. The scene looked hot as fuck, I had to admit.
Suddenly I felt a hand brace the back of my head and the stem of the pipe pushing hard against my mouth as he forced it through the supple leather of the hood where the metal grommet used to be. I tried to shake my head free but he held me firm. "Open your jaw boy, other wise I'll crack your teeth when this thing pops through!" I opened my mouth the tiny amount possible as the leather stretched and gave way, and the bitter tasting mouthpiece slipped it's way through my lips and between my teeth. I relaxed my aching jaw, letting the tight padding of the hood clamp my teeth and lips locked around the pipe. He kept forcing it in a couple of inches until I found my tongue pinned down like a gag. I tried to push it out, but it was so tightly held in place I had no hope of moving it. How fucking ironic.
I sucked air in through the pipe and found it was surprisingly free-flowing... probably due to the airway and volume being so big. I could taste and smell the raw tobacco and old smokey charcoal as I breathed, but found that even nose-breathing alone wouldn't stop him getting it lit, because I couldn't get enough air through my nose alone! I HAD to breathe through both to get enough oxygen, and I knew that Sir knew it too...
He clicked on the lighter and waved a finger at me in warning. "Now boy, you've made this difficult enough... If you try to stop me I'm going to punish you... I don't like hitting my boys and don't have anything to whack you with, so you will be punished by heavier pipesmoking with a much stronger blend, and a MUCH more painful fuck once we've finished here... once I've lit up your pipe I'm gonna unlock your legs and you're gonna get down on your knees in front of these fine men. Understand?" I nodded in quiet resignation and he patted me on the head like an obedient dog. "GOOD BOY!"
Through my dark leather eyes I watched as he lowered the flame out of my vision, and concentrated on breathing through my mouth and nose together as he held flame to bowl. I could hear my own breath ringing loud in my ears as he lit my pipe. Slowly at first I felt a little smoke creep into my lungs and out through my nostrils. And then another breath, more came this time, along with a little wisp of smoke blown out back through the pipe. "Hold your breath, son, I'm gonna tamp for you and re-light." I held for about ten seconds before Sir clicked on the lighter again and said: "In through the mouth twice... out through the nose twice, and then try your best to deal with it if you can!" I sucked my lungs full of air through the pipe and felt them fill with vanilla and spice, and then exhaled jets of burning smoke out of the hood like a dragon breathing fire. I began to cough hard into the suffocating wall of padded leather.
"RESIST the urge to cough boy, once you start it's hard to stop... much like pipesmoking in general I'm told!" A chuckle went round the room. "Now... AGAIN!" I took another big hit off the pipe, exhaled, resisted the coughing this time, and settled into a steady rhythm of breathing through my mouth and nose simultaneously... feeding myself a steady stream of fresh air, along with a constant supply of pipesmoke.
Sir released my legs and I got down on my knees, sitting back on my haunches like a begging puppy due to the back strap keeping me upright, gloved hands still locked behind my back. The exertion of getting down on my knees made me breathe harder and I found myself drawing ever more thick sweet pipesmoke down into my lungs. My cock, which had begun to soften earlier at my light-up, now grew hard once more as I felt myself move against my restraints. Sir came to me and put his hand on my head. "Gentlemen... I give you what you came for once again... and more! I've initiated a newbie for you tonight! It's time to get him into the playroom!"
Sir dragged me to my feet and led me into the room full of leather, rubber and metal. My mouth tasted like nothing but pipesmoke and I was beginning get used to it... I didn't particularly enjoy smoking the pipe but I DID get turned on by being forced to do something against my will by this hot Leatherbear, so the pipe actually had begun to turn me on also, and I felt myself start to enjoy what was happening to me!
He bent me over the bench near the mirror, strapped my neck down to the other side, and buckled a thick padded blindfold tight over the hood which clamped my eyes tight shut and cut off almost all sound, taking away my senses and leaving me alone in the hood with only my sense of touch left to deal with what was coming next.
He unzipped the ass crack of the shorts from the front near my cockring all the way round to the small of my back, allowing the tightness of the leather on my buns to pull my hole open and exposed. I felt a thin cold probe slip easily within me, and the cold wetness of lubricant being pumped inside my anus. He pulled the probe out and a small amount of lube dribbled out around my hole, which I felt being massaged into my skin by what I guessed was his meaty dick. "So boy... this is your first time huh? Well I'm gonna enjoy breakin' you in!"
He didn't take time to make it easy for me. I felt the head of his cock pushing hard at my barrier before it started to yield slightly. "Come on now, son, let me in there... nice DEEEP breaths!" I struggled and yelled into my pipe-gag as Sir's cock head broke through my sphincter, and I flooded my lungs with smoke. My gloved hands grabbed and clutched at the air in panic and delerium as my poor brain tried to deal with the sensory overload of a long thick slimy Bearcock sliding very slowly all the way to the hilt and stopping deep within my bowels for the first time.
Starved of oxygen, I passed out.
I swam through blackness toward a distant light, I felt I was seeing as a baby would see itself being born into the world : That distant light, slowly growing ever brighter as I tunnelled toward it with my arms down by my sides and I burst back forth re-born into consciousness and the gradual horrific realisation that I was leatherbound and gagged with a pipe, strapped down to a bench, and Sir had his cock buried up inside of me, stirrring it around like a spoon. He pulled out, allowed some lube to dribble down and re-introduced himself harder this time. SLAM! He fucked me so hard it lifted the bench off the floor. And he kept fucking like a piston. I felt shocked to the core as I realised that it hadn't all been a dream... it was all too much to take and I just let myself go. I then relaxed and submitted to him totally. My Master. I begged him to fuck me harder and let me cum, and as if he heard me, he did. He paused and untied my neck, pulled me upright with a hairy arm around my neck in a choke hold and gently stroked my aching slave-cock. I struggled to stand on tiptoes as I was impaled on him still, and he jerked his dick inside me- liflting me clean off the floor. All it took was four or five pumps before I shook as a mighty orgasm gripped me, and I fed myself ever more smoke as I spurted across the floor... he pinned me down to the bench again and resumed his anal battering.
It went on for a long time which felt like hours before he bred me, shooting his hot seed up inside and claiming me as his property. He pulled his dick out of my battered anus and pushed in a fat rubber buttplug to keep his seed there, then zipped my shorts back up to keep it lodged inside, and dragged me back through to the main room and un-strapped my blindfold.
"Okay Boys it's your turn...Get him WET!" I looked on as the Leathermen crowded around me and began to jack off, smoking their pipes and cigars, bathing me in clouds of their smoke, some smelling of walnut, some of cherry, and some of a much stronger sour-smelling blend, all mixed with the heady aroma of fine cigar. One by one they shot their loads, it hit me like rain upon my back, my pecs, my stomach, my shoulders and the tops of my arms until the last of them stood panting and spent. Semen dribbled down me as I smoked my pipe, still trying my best to deal with the constant influx of smoke that had sent me giddy with nicotine!
I felt like I was flying, and the sensory deprivation of the hood added to my detached state. Then suddenly it was gone, the smoke stopped coming and my pipe went out. Sir pulled it out of my hood and I was rewarded with the fresh air my body craved! "Even these big ones don't last long when blasted like that, I think you liked it more than you thought you would, didn't you boy?" I knelt there coughing and taking in air. I played the role I felt he wanted me to play... I nodded my head and tried to muffle a 'Yes Sir'. "GOOD FUCKIN BOY! I'll be pipe-training YOU up some more for these fine men to enjoy again!" The Leathermen seemed to agree- saying they wanted to see me smoking cock the next time too, then leaving me there to catch my breath they all filed out onto the streets, back to the lives they lived outside of Leather.
As soon as they'd gone I felt a towel wiping me down. Sir dried off my back and unlocked my hands then handed it to me to rag off my chest and arms. He came round the front of me and dangled the key to the hood in my eye! He'd found it! "If ever you try to trick me you will be sorry... If you ever try and get the upper hand when we're playin or putting on a show for the guys, I'll turn the tables and make you pay... You see that mirror?" I looked over to the wall mirror as he strode over and flipped a switch, instantly making the mirror into darkened glass window looking through into the playroom! "Allowing the men to see the houseboy getting dressed for their entertainment is all part of the service- We all saw you put that hood on and saw where you hid the key. I went hard on you to please them... but in fact you had some of my sweetest Virginia tobacco in that pipe of yours so I knew you'd be able to take the smoke well enough... I wanted you to enjoy smoking the pipe... Did you really enjoy it, or were you just bluffing? Are you still a non smoker?" I shook my hand in an 'I'm not too sure anymore' kind of gesture. "Not sayin' much are you, son?" He laughed and flashed a smile that made me melt inside and want to do anything to please him.
That night I slept in his bed with him, imprisoned in a padded leather sleepsack and still wearing the same hood I'd locked onto myself many hours earlier as 'punishment'... though to me at that point it was more like a reward: he'd turned me into a total pig in just a few hours! I spent my time in leather prison re-enacting my ordeal over and over and reached orgasm more times than I could count. I didn't sleep at all, and it felt like a whole lifetime had passed upon my eventual release, which was like being re-born again into a new and different reality. I submitted to having him shave my head into a military cut matching his own, and we sat down for breakfast. He showed me how to prepare a pipe for him, then handed me the pipe I'd been forced to smoke the evening earlier, he had me do the same for myself.
"Are you ready to take up the Briar, son? I think you know that you really want it, deep down inside you the desire is there now... It took me a while, but eventually I made you start to need the pipe last night... Go on, boy, take it. This can be the first of your collection." I took the pipe and lit it up willingly and found that I had no problem with starting smoking anymore... in fact the hardest part of my overnight bondage was that I couldn't get to his pipes to feed my new addiction!
That was TEN YEARS ago! Now I live with Sir and sleep bound in a coccoon of leather each night in our playroom, like a toy in it's box. Every morning I wake into nothing but the blackness of my hood, the smell of fine leather mixed with strong pipesmoke, I wait for him to rise and release me, then I dress both him and myself in the day's chosen leatherwear and prepare our morning pipes to smoke with our coffee. I have my own small collection of pipes these days, but my favorite- like most pipemen- is the one I learned with... the one with which he initiated me in 1999.

Hope you liked the story guys.
LOVE writing just as much as reading.
Let me know if you want more.
X
FreeHand..

You Can Bet Who'll Cum First In 'neighborhood'

Thu, 03 May 2012 23:51:19 +0000

You have 2 bets. One bet can be your favorite. A second bet can be how long you think it's going to take before it happens.

WYCKO & JEFF
RANDY & JEFF
ROB & JEFF
WYCKO & ROB
RANDY & WYCKO
JEFF & SOMEONE ELSE
WYCKO & SOMEONE ELSE
RANDY & SOMEONE ELSE
DOESN'T MATTER - MAKE IT SOON
DOESN'T MATTER - TAKE YOUR TIME

CONSIDER YOUR SELECTIONS JUST LIKE MAKING BETS. YOUR BETS WILL NOT AFFECT THE STORY LINE.

One unique experience about this 'Smoke Opera' is that none of us ever knows what the other will post. It's totally spontaneous! We react n respond to what ever someone has posted. just like IRL. we don't know what will happen until it happens. That's what has made it fun for me, and i think for all of the other 'boys' as well.
What adds a lot to the mix is when others join in. Like Hick, for example. how long do you think it's gonna take for jeff to ever get to taste an unfiltered camel from Hick.

That's why we ENCOURAGE & always WELCOME new guys to join in - at anytime your smokin horniest moves you! YOU COULD BE AN UNEXPECTED REAL DARK HORSE!
COME ON & JOIN IN THE SMOKEFUCKIN SMOKE-BUMPIN FUN. Your character doesn't have to be a regular. Even some brief appearances to give the 'opera' so unexpected twists & turns to the plot lines.

BET WHO'LL CUM FIRST IN 'NEIGHBORHOOD'
http://www.btjeff.ne....php?f=1&t=4748

Neighborhood Story:
http://www.btjeff.ne....php?f=2&t=4614

There Is A Guy Out There For You!

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 18:06:39 +0000

[Inspired by an e-mail with one of the guys on this board AND a link my marc sent me about the same time]

Lots of the guys here enjoy playin the field, whereas lots of other guys are lookin for more than that. I address this to the second group of men.

It's GREAT when you have some positive feelings for your ex/s. OK if you don't. For whatever reason/s it didn't work, or perhaps have never found one to begin with, doesn't matter IMHO.

The following is my experience. I went through dozens, maybe hundreds of smokin lovers/serious boyfriends, Before i met my true love, marc, 12 yrs ago, none of them ever made 3 months. My quest lasted well over 13 years. I had the reputation of going through smokin men, like others go through breakfast cereal. All my friends classified me as someone 'in love with love.' At best, I was considered a risky 'catch.'

But, during the process, i discovered that i learned more about myself from each and every 'true love' experience. What was really happening, In addition to smokin, i learned what were the most important aspects of a relationship for me. I certainly didn't think so at the time. I gained something valuable from each and every man.

These were the assets I was able to offer my Marc. That's why I freely make all of the concessions and compromises that I do to remain active on these boards. And Marc does as well.

So to you other hopefuls out there, there's a smokin guy out there for you. Just GO-4-IT!

The following is the link my Marc sent me. HOORAY UK!

http://front.moveon.org/a-beautiful-gay-marriage-video-with-one-idea-you-may-have-never-thought-of/?rc=daily.share&id=40433-513227-eEbbIzx

SMOKIN BEST!
Jeff

Initiation

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 03:20:00 +0000

On a warm evening in late spring I'm sitting on the porch just watchin' the world go by--or at least, the tiny patch of it we got back here in the boondocks. I got an ice cold Miller High Life in my hand and 23 more in the old beat-up cooler at my feet. A Mustang speeds by on the highway that runs 30 yards or so in front of my place. Dumbass is goin' too fast to take the curve a mile down the road. I shrug, wait, and chuckle when I hear the squealing tires. Without looking I reach over to the table next to me, grab my pack of Reds and my Zippo. Soft pack. Solid brass. The classics, made that way by generations of workin' men before me. The moving van that's been sitting at the old house across the highway all day is finally leaving, taillights glowing in the dusk, and I can see someone moving past the windows of the place now. I fire up another Red, take a long slow drag, and stretch in my chair. I send a couple of smoke rings floating up to the stars that are popping out all over the sky as the last light of the sun fades. A swig of beer, another long pull on my cigarette. It feels damn good to relax after a long day, and I zone out listening to the frogs out in the pond behind the house.

A few beers later I'm getting ready to pack it in for the night--I work on a land rig out near town and my shift starts early. Most of my second pack of the day is gone, the big glass ashtray I keep out on the porch half full of butts. I'm looking down toward my boots, exhaling a stream of smoke past the glowing cherry of my Marlboro. The smoke is silver and looks almost solid in the moonlight. I'm thinking life is good, and gonna get even better soon as I hit the cool sheets of my bed, when a shape comes into focus on the other side of the rising plume of smoke. I park my cigarette between my lips and squint up past the smoke that rises from it. A hulking silhouette steps toward me and extends a hand.

"Saw you out here and figured it wasn't too late to come introduce myself," the silhouette says. His voice is deep, and tinged with a hint of an accent. Hispanic maybe? Native American? Hard to say for sure. I take his hand and shake it as I stand up to look at him. I'm a full head taller than he is, but this guy is built like a tank. His skin is darker than mine, and it glistens with a light sheen of sweat in the moonlight. He sports a high-and-tight, and a ragged-looking scar, lighter-colored than the rest of his face, runs roughly parallel to his left cheek bone and ends at his chin. Another, smaller scar accents a frown line over his left eye. Neither detracts from his square-jawed good looks. Muscles ripple beneath the surface of his forearms. He looks me in the eye without blinking as we shake; despite his serious manner there's a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

"Alex," he says, "Alex Arevalo."

"Good to meet you Alex. I'm Rob Zahnbrecher." Alex clasps my hand with his left as well, and I look down in time to see a Pachuco cross tattooed in the webbing between his thumb and index finger. I saw one on 60 Minutes a few weeks ago, so I know it is a Latino gang sign.

I must've downed 7 or 8 beers already, so my face betrays my recognition before I get any say in the matter. "I thought I was a real badass when I was young in Brownsville," he says by way of explanation, still looking at me intently. "But my uncle took me in and got me straightened out."

Now, we don't see many ex-gang members out here; never thought I'd see one of those Pachuco crosses in person. Unless you count underage drinking, using the road signs for target practice, or bull-eyeing rabbits, things are pretty tame in general. But you know what? Right now I don’t give a flyin’ fuck what he did or didn’t do when he was young. If he was half as rough-looking, as handsome, and as well-built then as he is now, I think he probably had every right to think he was a badass. But I don't say that. I want to, but I don't. I smile, not knowing what to say, exactly. In the still night air I can hear my pulse in my ears. Every time my heart beats, my cock twitches a little and gets harder.

Alex fishes a box of Reds out of his shirt pocket and I light him up with my Zippo. He nods his thanks as he takes his first drag, his eyes never leaving mine. I spark up a fresh one for myself. Damn I love my Marlboros. If chocolate gives women half this much pleasure, I guess I can understand why they're so apeshit about it. But I'm a man, and I smoke.

I stretch out my leg, hook a chair with my boot, and drag it over next to mine. "Beer?" I ask him, sitting down and handing him a cold one from the cooler before he can say no.

"Thanks, bud. It’s been a long day and a beer sounds good.” He takes a swig and settles back into the chair.

“Your uncle sounds like a good man,” I offer, trying equally hard to keep the conversation moving along and to keep my mind off of my steadily stiffening dick.

"Uncle Mike wasn't my real uncle but he might as well have been. He was my dad's best friend. I moved in with him after my dad died when I was 16." He leans forward, unbuttons his right sleeve, and pulls it back to reveal a capital "M" topped by a red chevron tattooed on the inside of his wrist, just above his hand.

"'M' for Mike?" I ask, but he's already shaking his head and grinning.

"'M' for 'Marlboro,'" he says. "Got it when I was 18. It matches one my Uncle Mike and a couple of his buddies have."

I chuckle. "He got you started smoking?"

"Yeah, but it's more complicated than that. It's a mark of manhood and friendship. It signifies the bond between my uncle and me on the day I became a man."

I lean forward, grab Alex's wrist to take a closer look. His hand closes around my own wrist. His grip is powerful.

"But...what about your uncle's buddies?"

"That," he says with a lopsided grin, "is something that's better to show than tell."

*****

My dim bed-side lamp provides the only light in the room. It's just barely bright enough to see by, but sight isn't exactly a priority at the moment anyway. Alex's scent--a sharp, masculine blend of beer, smoke, and sweat--fills my nostrils. As soon as we walk into the room, he wrestles me up against the wall and kisses me, long and hard and deep. I can feel his warm moist breath on my face, taste the Red he stubbed out just as we walked inside. My cock is throbbing, leaking. Damn. Damn I want this big bear of a man inside me.

Alex slowly works his way from my mouth to my ear, kissing and sucking on my beard as he goes. Then, just a millimeter away from my ear, his breath coming in heavy, hot blasts, he growls, "You want a tattoo like mine? This is how you earn it." He pauses just long enough to fish another Red from his pocket, jam it between his lips, and light up. I watch the tip of his cigarette flare to life just inches from my face. I can feel the warmth of the glowing cherry as he drags hard, just as the combined aroma of Zippo fuel and tobacco smoke hit me. Suddenly I want a cigarette--I want that cigarette--more than I've wanted a smoke in a long, long time.

I don't have to want it for very long.

Alex takes five long, deep drags, his broad chest expanding with each inhale, and then leans in to seal his lips against mine. A thick cascade of Marlboro smoke pours from his lungs into mine while we stand, eyes closed, man to man. He grinds his pelvis against mine, and I can feel his huge dick through his jeans.

When he's done filling me with smoke, he steps back, puts his cigarette between his lips, and begins pumping hard on it once more as he unbuttons his shirt. I do the same, watching as his hairy chest and belly and his erect nipples are revealed. When I finally exhale I shudder with pleasure, and Alex is again in front of me. We stand shirtless, belly to belly, as he feeds me another solid chestful of smoke.

The cigarette between his lips again, he begins to unbutton my jeans. A long stack of ash falls between us as he drags down to the end and drops the collapsed filter into the ashtray on my nightstand. His right hand wraps around the back of my head and pulls me into him, and while he feeds me the last of his smoke his left hand wraps around my swollen dick.

When his lips pull away, he looks deep into my eyes as I exhale, to see what he's done. Evidently, he likes what he sees because I get the lopsided grin again as he crouches down to cup my balls in his hand. By this time my cock is leaking like a faucet, and Alex slurps up the pre-cum before taking my entire shaft into his mouth. I can feel his tongue working around the head, and my knees almost buckle as he flicks it back and forth along the underside.

I try to hold back, but it's only a minute or two before Alex gets what he wants: I explode into his throat, gasping with the release as he grunts his approval down below. He swallows every drop of my load, licking the shaft clean, before coming up for air.

"That," he says, "was pretty damn good. "But"--he taps the tattoo on his wrist--"the question now is do you really want one?"

Holy shit! Whatever this club is, I wanna be a member. I nod my answer.

"Good," says Alex. "Get on the bed."

What Do You Do When You Cum While Smoking?

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 22:45:16 +0000

This posting was inspired by a post by this same title that i saw today in the Smokin Stories forum of this board. i thought others might be interested also.

Glasgow Ambassador Sauna

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 20:55:55 +0000

Any Glasgow guys every tried the Ambassadors Rainbow Sauna? It says it has a covered smoking area and wondered if it was worth a visit.

Cheers
Gaz

We've Got Another Smoke-Opera Goin On

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 17:58:33 +0000

In case you're not a regular visitor to our story board, smokinron [he's the one who's created n posted the x-rated desktop smokin calendars for us all] has been skillfully writing his smoke fetish diary.
unlike the 'Neighborhood' smoke-opera, ron has skillfully and masterfully written his boyhood diary with the marlboro man.

here's the link
http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=4630

check it out. he adds a new chapter every saturday.

grab your smokes AND COME ON DOWN N SMOKE A FEW.

Smokefuckin yeah!
jeff

Searching In Toledo,ohio

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 18:14:50 +0000

Reds chain smoker ISO other smoking men for chat,maybe more.

Toledo,ohio Reds Iso Other Smokers

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 18:10:20 +0000

Love chaining reds, looking for other reds smokers

Dad And Son Siting, Close But No...

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 23:00:11 +0000

customer at the dealership where I work brings his truck in for a oil change. Good lookin dude, I would guess late 40s, early 50s. Regular customer but first time he had his college age son with him. The son is a younger version of dad, Im guessing 20ish, and really a fit and handsome young man.. They sit outside on a bench while they wait, dad fires up a cigarette. Right outside my bay and Ive got a great view of them both. I was kinda hoping I was going to see a father/son smoking experience, but the son never lit up. But I KNOW by the way he kept watching dad, that he wanted- hell, I think he NEEDED- a cigarette! Every drag dad took was closely watched by son, I swear I could see him trying to inhale the leftover smoke. Just a great siting for me.

Dallas Smokers?

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 05:27:19 +0000

31yo poz smoking bottom here. Would love to find other hot cig or gar smokers to hang with and have fun. oakbarebottom@gmail.com

Want To Be Forced To Smoke - In Va

Mon, 23 Apr 2012 17:34:21 +0000

hi all.

i want to be forced to become a nicotine addict. smoke cigs
any brand, any amount, you control it.

other types of tobacco also ok. dip, chew, etc...

even willing to maybe grow facial hair or gain weight or clothing changes. in person.

not really lookin for a relationship. just some forced smoking domination to any level.

Guys Who Prefer Smokers With Really Hairy Pubic Bush

Sun, 22 Apr 2012 08:12:41 +0000

After cultivating a few long term friendships from this site, and even from just occasional encounters, it's been my observation that most heavy smokers prefer a naturally hairy pubic bush. If that is your take on it, by all means, sound off and relay what makes it very sexy for you. This can include overall body hair, chest hair, pit hair. Have almost unmanageable, thick, dense hair myself and many have asked me to bring it up. Will put my two cents in after a few others comment, but aside from being that hairy, at least below the waist, yeah, sure it attracts me, but there's also a downside to it you might not be aware of. But, seriously, you guys prefer a smoker with lots of hair,? Is it a turn off if he shaves or even trims it? Let's discuss:

Melbourne Hook Up

Wed, 18 Apr 2012 13:12:12 +0000

Smoke loving Melbourne guy looking for day time hook up to digest plenty of cigarettes and Indulge in the fetish.

Into leather but not essesntial. Love Red's, Dunhills. Cigarettes preferably.

Smokers In Orlando

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 13:08:40 +0000

Looking for smokers in or visiting Orlando. NSA fun. I love blowing a guy while he smokes...can't get enough of it. Send me a message with info if interested.

Smoking Mess Around - Hypno File

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 16:38:26 +0000

A lovely lurker on here just wrote to say he's found the hypno file I posted earlier worked even though he thought 'hypnosis was a load of shit'. Frankly that's what I thought - I did them as a kind of audio fantasy - then people started using the files and letting me know they work.

This one is for those of you who are ambivalent about smoking. It's more explicitly sexual and deliberately persuasive. Be warned if you listen you might well end up getting hooked. So if you just find the idea of smoking hot but don't really want to be a smoker don't listen.

You're adults, it's up to you how you use this.

Smoking Mess Around.mp3 15.18MB 326 downloads

Indianapolis Smokers?

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 13:21:30 +0000

Sub here into taking care of smokers cock. Hit me up

Im A Dirty A Smokin Pigg

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 12:39:47 +0000

Irs almost 8 am and all I can think of is, how far will I go to achieve my inner desire of being a dirty smok

e pigg? I need new levels of addiction. I need a clean slate. Make me over into your happy dsngerous top.

We're Going To Begin Doing Real Smokefuckin Videos

Sat, 14 Apr 2012 03:31:49 +0000

Hey men!

Marc N i have JUST FINALIZED agreements to begin producing smoking videos. They will be FREE and posted on such sites as x-tubes, gay-tubes, etc. Smokinmen is naturally included if these kind of vids can be posted.

For more information, go to Hardcore Chat on btjeff.net.

Anyone interested in BEING IN THESE VIDEOS? E-mail me for more information.
Jeff

Diy, Machines...

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 20:27:48 +0000

More and more people roll their own cigarettes because it is much cheaper. I don't, but an addict who needs his nicotine and who can't afford his addiction because of the tax rises on cigarettes, will have to do something. Roll-ups have been very popular in the NL for ages, but nowadays people use a machine that enables the addict to make real filter cigs. I like that... I imagine a smoker spending his evening making his supply for the next day, putting the cigs into a used 'real cigs pack', smoking them the next day and in the evening he needs to make a new supply again. This kind of smoker is faced with the inconveniences of a nicotine addiction every day. We just buy a few packs, or a carton. He needs to spend time and effort (and less money) to fulfil his nicotine needs.

How about you? Do you make your own cigs? Do you look down on people who do? Do you adore them?

Edinburgh This Saturday

Thu, 12 Apr 2012 22:06:52 +0000

Hi guys

Told good looking slim early 40s guy here with short blond hair, could be in Edinburgh this Sat 14 April and available for some smoke fun around lunchtime on Sat for an hour or so. Can't accommodate but would love to meet up with like minded guy for a smoke. Mainly smoke B&H Gold & Rothmans, but also enjoy JPS Black & L&B to name a few.

Gaz

Join The Neighborhood Smoking Boys Hits 100+ 'episodettes'

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 22:49:46 +0000

Join Jeff and all the neighborhood boys as they experience smoking and their lives on the edge of discovering manhood.

We're now back on a regular posting schedule. Either keep up or start it from the beginning. There are many unanswered sub-plots going on.

Better yet, please feel free to joining in as one of the boys. We love to share some smokes with ya.

http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=4614

see ya there!
jeff

I'm Obviously Out Of My Element Here...

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 05:49:49 +0000

Several years ago I visited this site frequently, and was glad to find some guys with this similar interest that I have, and finally realized, I'm not the only one. However, I grew tired of the site quickly and abandoned it for several years.

Recently, I decided to give it another shot, but realized, I'm probably wasting my time again...

My reasons for vacating the site for an extended period of time still seem to be valid today...

My goal in getting on here was to meet some like-minded folks who shared a common interest. I want to meet people, get to know them, find out about them. That's where I think this site, or the people on it rather, fall short.

In visiting the chatroom, I am inundated with private messages that start with similar themes: ...hey you hot looking man hunk, I'd like to suck your cock... ...hey cowboy, what are you wearing, I'm in my underwear and cowboy boots stroking my cock... ...hey dude, are you smoking and stroking, how big is your fuck monster... ...I hope you're a top cause I'd bottom for a hot smoker guy like you...

Is this the way to start a conversation with someone you've never met before???? Whatever happened to, for example... Hey mbacowboy, how are things in Texas? Whatever happened to striking up a conversation and finding out a little bit about the person. I want to meet people that share similar interests, even outside of smoking. Granted, smoking is a big part of my life, as it obviously is to everyone else on here, but there are other things to life. I want to get to know a person, and see where things go from there.

Personally, I'm not going to introduce myself to a new person by saying... Man, I sure would like to stick my dick in your ass...

And then there's the photo gallery... Some of the comments that get posted, I don't even want to repeat them... What's wrong with a simple... Nice picture bud...

Certainly, as much as the next guy, I enjoy kicking back, stroking myself, smoking cigarettes, and talking with other like-minded guys about the topic, but to someone I don't know at all, starting the conversation with cock size or wanting to know if my balls are hairy is NOT a turn on.

I have spent hours searching through profiles and identified a handfull of people that I thought, hey, he looks like a nice guy, I might enjoy getting to know him, so I sent a few emails on here. Absolutely no response from most of them. In fact, even after a half dozen or so emails, I think I got one response. Even attempted messaging a couple of people on Yahoo Messenger and Oovoo, no response, or extremely limited response at best. Why post your yahoo or Oovoo name on here if you're not going to respond???

Maybe I have the incorrect approach... My messages typically start out with something to the effect of... "Hey _______, I'm _________, and I'm from the DFW area of Texas. I saw you're from Arizona, I travel to Phoenix a lot for work. Arizona is a great state. I read your profile and you certainly appear to be a nice guy. I also enjoy smoking Marlboro Reds, and the occasional cigar as well,. I enjoyed seeing the pictures you posted, quite nice. Do you get on here very often? I'd certainly enjoy chatting with you sometime and getting to know you. Feel free to write me back, or you can instant message me on yahoo if you'd like, my screen name is _________.

Where are the other guys like me? Where are the clean-cut, down-to-earth, conservative, well-rounded guys who enjoy life, and enjoy smoking as a part of it? Where are the guys who want to make some friends and then see where things go?

Maybe I have an ego. I'm a good guy. I'm fun, I'm outgoing, people enjoy being around me. I can't think of anybody I've pissed off in years. I'm attractive. I go to bars and I have people racing to me all evening. Perhaps it's my confident attitude and my pride in the way I carry and present myself. I have an executive-level job with a multi-national corporation, a nice custom-built home that I designed, and I enjoy traveling the world. But lastly, and certainly not least, I enjoy making new friends. However, it's becoming obvious this site isn't the place to do that. This site should be a gold mine for meeting other guys into the smoking fetish, and finding others with similar interests outside of the smoking realm, so it baffles me that it is so fruitless. It's next to impossible to meet others into the smoking fetish outside of this particular website. But even so, it seems to be more productive in finding others with an interest similar to mine.

Just my two-cents' worth, and my own personal introduction about myself...

Uk Non Smokers Looking For A Smoker?

Tue, 10 Apr 2012 11:59:44 +0000

Hi, im looking to meet men with a smoking fetish but are non smokers themselves. Im not into men that smoke but have a massive fetish for smoking for men only guys in the UK contact me if youre interested, thanks

Anyone In The Washington Dc Metro Area?

Fri, 06 Apr 2012 05:25:49 +0000

Anyone here in the Washington DC area? Hell, I'm getting tired of finding all the good ones that live on another continent. There have gotta be some smoking hot smokers here in the DC area...or slightly further??? Come on men, help me out!! Hope to hear from you.
Carl

Attached Files

IMG_4697.MOV 534.46K 63 downloads

The Transformation Of A Nerd: Part 3

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 23:58:28 +0000

David, now Dave, woke up with a hangover. He'd never had one so he felt weird. He didn't recognize the room where he was. It was really messy, clothes all over the place or workclothes all over the place, to be more precise. He could also see socks, underwear, most of it dirty, and plenty of boots, especially rigger boots. He could only be at Mike's. He couldn't remember much from the previous evening, just snogging him, the taste of him and the strange but nice aftertaste of the first cigarettes he'd smoked in his life. He couldn't actually remember much of them. Did he actually like them? He suddenly realized his parents should be really pissed off. What would they be thinking? He looked around, that messy room, so different from his, he could hardly walk in there. He was half naked and tried to look for his clothes, that would be a difficult task. Something occurred to him while looking at some overalls of Mike's. What would he look like in them? He'd be so different, so like Mike...He couldn't resist the temptation and got some that were not actually that dirty. Then he thought he could also try on some of his underwear, these were also worn, he picked some that had a big stain. Cum, piss? He inmediately got all horny, he saw how his cock started to get really hard. He first sniffed the underwear intensely. He would have never dared to do that before but, after what had happened the night before, he felt quite more adventurous. The smell was so strong but, at the same time, so masculine. He rubbed Mike's briefs on his face and body and then put them on. He did the same with the overalls. He sniffed the rigger boots for longer, the scent was really really different, quite intense, they smelled like sweat. He realized how different the smells in that room were, first of all because it reeked of smoke. He had forgotten about that, he felt something rough in his throat, the consequences of his first smokes. He looked at the ashtrays brimming with ashes and cigarette butts. Suddenly he noticed there was a Marlboro pack and a lighter on the bedside table with a note: enjoy! for my fucking new mate! He picked the pack and opened it. He got one cigarette and smelled it as he'd done with the clothes. He had an idea. He stood up in his gear and looked at himself in the mirror, he lit the cigarette and tried to smoke like Mike. He still coughed a bit at the beginning but then it was OK. He liked what he saw, he realised that he was more selfconfident. He looked like a total different person but, at the same time, he felt a lot more attractive. Still, there was something wrong, he then felt stupid, who was he going to fool? He wasn't a builder, he wasn't that kind of guy, or was he? His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. It was his uncle, thank God.
-What's up? Did you have fun last night?
-Actually, yes I did, you wouldn't even imagine.
-Don't be so sure. Don't worry. I've already talked to your parents.
-Oh, fuck, my parents!
-And that language? You spent the night with me, OK?. They won't yell at you. I'll go and pick you up. I know where you are. I´ll be there in a few.
-OK, see yeah.
After he hang up, he saw a young confident builder looking at him and exhaling smoke. He got such a boner that he couldn't stop wanking like crazy. He was so horny in that room, the smells. When he finished the cigarette, he inmediately lit a second one and then a third until he couldn't hold it any more and shot his load on his overalls. He then lit another cigarette to calm down. He now understood why people smoked after sex, it was so soothing and nice. His uncle should be coming and he should probably find something more decent to wear. He felt embarrassed dressed like that. The thing is that he couldnt find anything much cleaner there so he decided to put on Mike's tracksuits. They were a bit dirty, he had probably worn them at the site but he looked almost decent in them. He heard the doorbell.
-Hi, you were fast.
-I knew the way, nice clothes you are wearing, Dave.
_thanks
-no complaining at Dave any more?
-No, actually I like it now.
-Is it what Mike calls you?
- Shut the fuck up! will you? Let's go!
-OK, don't you forget anything? and he looked at the pack that was sitting next to me.
-ehhh, yes, I´ll get those.
-I´ll light one for you.
-Thanks
and that was the first time Dave smoked a cigarette with his uncle and it felt great.
When he got home, his parents were quite mad at him but they hardly said anything. They could smelled the smoke on his clothes but they probably thought it was from Pete's.

That evening he met Mike again, he was wearing Mike's tracksuits (which his parents thought was very strange) and the Marlboro pack hidden in a pocket. Mike was wearing his overalls and smoking as usual. They went to a remote part of the park and the first thing Mike did was snog Dave and breath all his smoke into his mouth, he then continued to the point that he was making Dave choke. Needless to say, he got incredibly horny. Mike grabbed Dave's coke and stroke it. How is my pig going? Let me see your pack.
Dave showed it to him and he saw that he'd smoked almost half of it already.
-Not bad for your first day. Let's try and fucking finish it, OK?
-OK, light it for me, please.
-I will, so they smoked and stroke each other cock's. Then Mike got all wild again and grabbed Dave from his head. Fucker, you have too much hair. We'll have to fucking change that, too. But for now, I'd like you to service me, kneel down, pig, and he make him suck his cock.
Dave had never done that before, actually, just a week before he would have found that revolting, but at that moment he was actually flattered by this, he could service Mike, make him happy, he started to realize that he was and wanted to be a tool for Mike's pleasure and that would be his pleasure. So he did and put Mike's cock in his mouth and rubbed his tongue on it and got wild and crazy and pulled Mike's cock in and out and he gagged but he didn't care any more, he didn't care about anything if he could be there with Mike.
He was getting hornier and hornier by seeing Mike smoking and exhaling above him, on him. He was looking down at him, that was where he belonged: down. He realized and he liked it. He just wanted to obey and learn, and he was a great learner, now he would apply all his learning potential to a different goal. Mike yelled: -go on, bitch, yes like that, I'm gonna fucking cum, gonna fucking cum in your fucking virgin mouth. If you fucking move, you'll fucking regret it. and just like that he shot his cum inside Dave, who also came with all the excitement. They both lit a cigarette. Mike put his arm around Dave and made him lie on his chest. It was so relaxing to be with Mike smoking, smelling his overalls...showing publicly that he belonged to him now. This time he didn't drink so much and went back home. The following days he didn't go to school, he would walk around smoking and wanking in public toilets until Mike got off work. He loved servicing him, wanking him and giving him blowjobs but one day Mike said:
-I think you are ready, now.
-What u fucking mean?
-I fucking mean I'm gonna deflower the lady...
So that night he went to Mike's place. They started drinking beer and got a bit drunk. They smoked and exchanged smoky snogs, as usual Dave went down on Mike. Then he left and came back with a small bottle.
-What's that?
-Something you're gonna love. Come here.
Mike opened the bottle and put it under his nose.
-Fucking sniff this deep!
So he did and felt an incredible rush, his heart went crazy and he felt incredible horny. He threw himself on Mike and kissed each other like animals. Mike threw Dave on the floor among all his workgear and boots and fed him more poppers while he started fingering his ass. He lit two cigarettes. Dave moaned while he smoked and felt Mike's fingers in his ass. With the next sniff from the poppers he didn't feel like an animal, he was an animal, he inhaled the smoke like crazy, holding his cigarette like a real addict and he started licking the overalls and the rigger boots next to him. It was then when Mike realized he'd never been mistaken, that in front of him he had the dirtiest pig he'd seen for ages. He just had to train him a bit longer. When he saw Dave was ready he put his meat inside him and fucked him like the animal he was. He made him lick his boots and his socks and make him smoke all the time. Dave came after a while shooting his load on the workgear while Mike left his seed inside Dave.
The following morning, after Mike left for work, he went to the fridge to grab a beer and lit a cigarette. He had enjoyed the fuck the previous night so much that he was just more determined to be with him and for that he had to try and be more like him, to please him. Again he had lost his clothes but this time he didn't make a fuss about it. He grabbed the first overalls he found, he chose some particularly dirty briefs and put them on. He thought he would have to wear some riggers to go with them. He noticed a big golden chain and some golden chav rings and put them on two. He put the Marlboro pack in the front overalls pocket so that they were a bit visible, like Mike, he wanted everyone to see he was a proud smoker. Before that he'd taken a fresh cigarette and lit it. He burped loudly while he closed the door. He then went to a barber's shop he'd seen close to Mike's and went in.
-What's up, mate?
-Hi, I want it all off.
-Are you sure, mate, you have very nice hair, well looked after. No offense, but it doesn't really go with the rest, if you know what I mean. I don't know how you keep it like that at the site.
-Yeah, mate, I have just bloody started and it's fucking unconfortable.
-I understand. I'll bring the razor.
-fucking good, mate.
-Just relax, I see you are dying to smoke, you can in here. I´ll just close the door so noone is bothered. I´ll light one too.
-Fucking great, you are fucking amazing. I´ll have to come here more often. I think I´ll need it.
So that's how Dave became a skinhead. He then left the barber's, now looking more like an apprentice builder, in his dirty workgear and boots, smoking a Marlboro. He realized something else was missing. His skin was so clean and pale. That also had to change but he was only 17, did he have to be 18 for a tatoo? he didn't know. But he had a plan.
That evening when he met Mike, he wasn't embarrassed any more, everybody thought they were two brickies off site. Mike looked at him and felt proud but didn't say anything, he was counting on it, anyway. He'd thrown Dave's clothes and he knew there wasn't anything else he could wear. He just felt really proud of how he was wearing it all, of his attitude. He was a fucking good teacher, after all. So they went to a not so remote part of the park and lit a cigarette and started to wank.
To be continued when I have time....

Looking For Cigar Top Smoker

Tue, 03 Apr 2012 22:29:34 +0000

I'm looking for cigars Top/Master smokers who loves to smoke and force me to smoke big cigars. I'm also humany ashtray. Pics and more details withe pvt messages. I'm looking in Italy and Europe. Only serious please

The Transformation Of A Nerd: Part 2

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 20:18:40 +0000

A friendship is born

David couldn't stop masturbating after his encounter with Mike. His arrogance, his masculinity, the way he looked at him telling him he was proud, he was better. He'd love to be like him, to be with him. He wasn't sure about his smoking, he could smell him from miles away, not surprising his uncle knew him. They certainly had something in common. When he wanked he had fantasies snogging him forever and he didn't mind the smell of his mouth there, quite the contrary....

Mike knew what he was doing. After Pete's phone call he had been thinking. He knew that type of guys. He had met some before, they were naive, they lacked experience but they were intelligent, deep inside they had the thrive, they were what he called "closeted pigs". They lacked confidence and needed people like him to give it to them. Of course, they would never be leaders, there were people that were born to obey and serve, that made them happy. They just needed to meet the people that took the lead and showed them, guided them into a new life, a life of happiness. They were pigs inside, they just didn't know it yet, because nothing had triggered the pig nature they possessed. He wasn't totally sure about whether he'd be attracted to him before he met him. But from the very first moment he saw him, he was thrilled, he loved nerds like that, he loved seeing them submit to him, see how, unavoidably they were slowing becoming pigs, his pigs, he liked the excitement of the transformation and the submission. He knew he had potential and David wasn't bad looking, not at all, but those horrible glasses, the clothes were quite misleading. That would change and that would be soon. He also loved the fact David wasn't a smoker, he loved corrupting virgin lungs. Ironically, he couldn't think of anyone more desirable at the moment than David so he just had to thank Pete for that.

Pete realized immediately that the meeting had been a success. Nobody had said anything to him, well, just the thank you call from Mike. He just loved the guy, all that cockiness and arrogance but he was a nice guy, hard working, certainly attractive, hot. They had fucked a couple of times after work when they met. Pete couldn't resist his charms, he was a born pig, he loved his filthiness, his total masculinity, his gear, his looks...and his smokes. He hadn't told him about his smoke fetish but Mike wasn't stupid and realized how Pete looked at his inhales. So they had spent the foreplay snogging and exhaling smoke into each other's mouths, blowing the smoke at each other. It had been so hot. Then Pete had tried to make Mike suck his cock but he'd ended up blowing Mike while he smoked one fag after the other. Finally, Pete had lit a cigar and Mike had got so horny he had almost cum right then. Then shared the cigar rubbing their tongues against it like two dirty pigs, They stroked their dicks until they came. The sex had been nice but they both were too similar, they were both leaders, dominant men and they were not for each other. They both realised that, just as Pete realized that what David needed was somebody who showed him the way. He couldn't stand David becoming like his dad, an arrogant wanker that looked down on people like him, on common people. What was wrong about that? he wanted David to be like him and be happy and Pete would just do that. He was totally sure about it. They were born for each other. David didn't know it yet. He would soon.

David almost had a heart attack when he saw Mike's number on the screen of his mobile.
-Hi mate, what's up? Would you like to hang out a bit tomorrow? I´m off at 4 and plenty of time after that. I thought we could grab a beer or something.
-Today? I don't know, I have an exam tomorrow and I don't drink.
-Well, it's up to you mate.
(What was he saying? We was just so excited he could scream right then)
-I guess the exam isn't so important, just a mock one...I can show you the neighbourhood.
-OK, so we can meet at the McDonald's at 4?
-That'd be perfect.
-Fucking good, mate. See you tomorrow.
Needless to say, David couldn't sleep that night. He'd never been so excited in his entire life. He couldn't concentrate at school and he ended up leaving earlier pretending to be sick. He was at the McDonald's at 2:30 and was waiting for Pete for almost two hours. Obviously Pete was late on purpose, he knew he had to make David lose control. David wasn't prepared for what he saw. This time Pete wasn't wearing a tracksuit, he was wearing filthy overalls and rigger boots, the overalls tucked inside the boots, he was even wearing a helmet, a white one and a torn hivis vest. What were they going to do together? What were his schoolmates going to say if they saw them together? he wasn't that popular at the moment, he would be laughed at for years on end. He realized they had nothing in common, that was absurd but, at the same time, his boner was so intense that it was painful, he couldn't move or think or talk. Pete was smoking all arrogant looking at him.
Let's grab a fucking beer, mate.
And David just couldn't say no, he knew he had to follow Mike.
Mike bought a pack of Guinness and a couple of Cokes for Mike as he'd insisted. No problem.
They went to the park, David tried to to lead him to a not very popular place so they weren't seen by anybody. Mike had nothing to object to that.

-Want a fag?
-No thanks, I don't smoke?
-beer?
-no thanks, I´ll just have a coke.
-whatever, mate.
And David saw how Mike lit his first cigarette, then he finished that his second and his third while he drank one beer after the other.
He should be disgusted by the spectacle but he was so horny he was just about to take out his cock and wank in front of everybody but, of course, he couldn't.
-So, what do u like, mate? No drink, no smokes, do u ever fucking have a good time? You just have to be less uptight and loose it a bit.
-Well, I read, I just have too much to study.
-Fucking study. I left school and never regretted it. I started working at the site and had enough money to get me smokes, me drinks. I met real nice people too. And I can smoke all the time, I couldn't at school.
-Yes, you smoke, I don't.
.Yeah, you don't smoke yet. And he said this loudly in such an arrogant manner that it was clear what message he wanted to convey and at that moment David realised how powerful his new friend was and he started thinking for the first time how his life could change so radically if he kept being friends with Mike. This thought and the constant blows from Mike's cigs into his face made David cum, just like that. And was he embarrassed. He looked at his jeams and the wet stain and prayed for Mike not seeing it. Of course he had but he made no comment and went on drinking. He then burped loudly and that was the moment David was waiting for:
-You are just such a pig. I´m going now..
-Yes, but I'm not the only one.
and just like that he went.
The next day Mike called him again. He knew now that he was on the right track.
-Sorry, mate for being such a pig yesterday. Park at 4?
So, for a few days, they met after Mike went off work, Mike drinking and smoking and David, looking at him, and smelling his smokes, getting used to his gear. David didn't do anything because he just thought about his cock and beautiful Mike, how much he liked his eyes, his rough voice, he would love to be with him all the time, make his life easier, live for him but he just couldn't loose it all so when the next day Mike called and told him he wasn't meeting him as he thought they were very different, David panicked and said, no, please, we have lots of things in common, I just need to tell you. I´ll do as you wish. Those were the magic words Mike had been waiting for.
Of course, you will, so same time, same place, Dave?
-Dave?
-Yes, thats your name now, Don't you like it?
-Oh, yes, yes, I love it, really.
-That's what I thought. You will be Dave from now on, for everybody, do you understand?
-Yes, I do.
-Those are the words I want, mate.
So the next day, they met at the park, this time there were no cokes, just beer. He also brought several packs of Marlboro in the pockets of his overalls.
-A beer mate? You know what answer I want.
-Yes, sure, mate.
-That's the Dave I want.
-So Dave tried his first beer ever, at 17 , the only person that hadn't tried it before 14 probably at his school. The taste was bitter but he tried to imitate the way Mike drank, confindently and fast. He couldn't, of course, because Mike smoked and drank almost at the same time, a fag almost always in his mouth. So after his second beer, he was like in a cloud and felt incredibly good and relaxed with Mike next to him. At that moment, Mike put his arm around him and make Dave's head rest on his chest, just below his mouth so Dave got all the smoke from his cigarette, which made him cough. Dave tried to move away but he couldn't, now Mike was holding him very close but also very firmly so he couldn't move at all. He could smell him so well now, he could even smell the cement on his overalls, his sweat but it all felt so great. He started thinking that he was beginning to belong to him and that was the best feeling he had ever had. He knew who was in charge now, that he had to submit, that he had no power any more, that he had never had power, he was born to please people like Mike. So when Mike told him: now it's time to blacken those virgin lungs of those he just said:
-fucking good, mate. I thought you'd never ask.
-Just do as I do. See, get my fag, hold it like a man, fucking put it in your fucking mouth and fucking inhale all the fucking smoke into your fucking virgin lungs.
-oh, yes fuck. He was like having an orgasm, with his third beer and all that language, the language of his master, he just wanted to put the fag in his mouth and he inhaled and he coughed like crazy and he thought, what a disgusting taste but this is what Mike wants and what I want now.
So Mike shared his cigarette with him and with his four beer Mike lit Dave's first cigarette and he didn't like it so much but it gave him such a booze with the beer that he was ecstatic. So when Mike put his tongue in Dave's mouth and he could taste his smoky tongue and he then started blowing smoke in his mouth making him gag he came just like that, again. But this time he didn't run. This time, Mike made him know he had realized and he put his hand under his jeans and got some cum and put it in Dave's mouth.
-See, you are also a pig, suck it, pig. And after that Mike burped real loud.
But this time Dave said.
-Yes, yes, I´m a pig. I want you to become your pig. I want to be like you.
-I know you do, and you will soon, very soon.
And he licked all the cum off Mike's hand and all the nicotine too and he licked it like a dog, like a pig, very passionately, also fanatically, letting out all he had inside, with the animal instinct he didn't know he possessed.

To be continued. Next part, transformation begins

The Transformation Of A Nerd: Part 1

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 17:18:46 +0000

Sorry about the long background but I think transformation stories need this to enjoy the transformation, precisely

The background

David was what you would call "a good boy". He studied hard, he would soon take his A levels and he hoped to get straight As to be able to study in one of the top universities of the country. He didn't go out and, obviously, he didn't drink or smoke. He was specially neat and tidy. He didn't care so much about clothes or fashion as he was more of a nerd but he liked to dress in plain spotless clothes, more on the conservative side but not to the extreme. He was from a middle class family. Both his parents had white collar jobs and wanted his kid to be a broker, a businessman, a top executive, in a word, a successful man in a society where the word "money" was at its centre. They were quite demanding with David in his studies. Although he got top marks they were never happy, they weren't particularly loving or affectionate to him. Curiously, it was David's uncle, Pete, who provided the affection. He couldn't be more different from his brother. He, in fact, had inherited his father's (David's grandfather) character and many of his hobbies, even his job as a builder. Not surprinsingly, Pete and David's father didn't get on that well but they kept in touch for David's sake because David loved his uncle. He didn't quite understand why. He just was so different from what he had been taught at home. His uncle smoked like a chimney, he was a Marlboro man but he would smoke anything and often after lunch or at weekends he liked a good cigar. He worked a lot, had huge tattooes and was always dressed in filthy blue overalls and wore rigger boots at all times. He just liked the masculinity of the gear but also what it represented and the gear was just so comfortable that he didnt have any desire to get changed or spend any money on other types of clothes. David sometimes felt it was a bit disgusting, that filthy gear, the smell from the cigarettes, the sweat but he was so nice to him, he cared about him and he made him laugh and he had been the only one who took him to see films, to grab a hamburger. Pete realised how David was becoming a total outsider, someone that wasn't wanted in any "social teenage event". The school he attended didn't help, of course. Most of David's schoolmates were arrogant wankers, a word that David would never dare to use, of course. He saw how David was becoming more a more reserved and introvert, it was obvious he wasn't happy and this probably had to do with age, with what a teenager getting older needed. He was a nerd but he also had other needs, however basic they were. And these needs only meant one thing: sex. So uncle Pete did a bit of research.

Meeting a new friend

Pete wasn't stupid and knew that to find out David's deep secrets he just had to get access to his computer. Where else would a nerd get what he wanted. So one day, he went to his place to pick him up to go to the park (a bit sad for someone his age but whatever). He normally didn't get out of the car to avoid confrontation with his brother or his arrogant glare but today he had a goal.
-Hi, mate, let me check my email, I have something urgent to send.
-Hi, how early you've come, I need to have a shower, you could have one too, by the way.
-I think I´m just gonna pass on that, you are gonna lose your skin with so many fucking showers.
-I just love your language, the computer is on. I´ll be five minutes.

It was dead easy, everything was there, of course, history, porn sites, pics, all gay, of course, he had always known, being gay himself that David was no straight meat. What type of guys did David like? Well, quite rough ones, of course. He didn't seem to have a pattern, some were quite mature, with lots of facial hair, many of them but he also liked young ones, scally types, blue or light eyes. Good to know. Now he just had to look for the right man. That wouldn't be so difficult.
He started thinking of all the young gay guys that had worked with or for him, after a few minutes he smiled and phoned Mike, a 20 year old brickie that had worked with him two years ago. He would be perfect.

The next day he called David.
-Hi, Dave
-Don't call me Dave, it just sounds stupid.
-Whatever. listen, I need you do me a favour. I have a new mate Mike at the site. He is young but he's new here, he doesn't know anyone, so I told him that I have a wonderful nephew just a little younger that could hang out with him a bit. You could do with another friend.
-I don't know, I'm just so busy...
-OK, perfect, I´ll give him your number.

So two days later, there they are. David, Pete and Mike at the McDonald's. Needless to say, David almost dropped over dead when he saw Mike. Was he out of a porn site? Cocky, scally type, beautiful blue eyes, shaved head, a tatoo at the back of his neck, a cigarrette on his ear, golden earrings, he was wearing tracksuits and rigger boots. He was smoking, of course, he'd put out his cig before going in, but before he had smoked quite desperately inhaling as if his life depended on it. It was obvious he didn't want to go anywhere where he couldn't go on smoking but...They talked in quite an innocent way for a while. David had a boner at every second of the meet, couldn't concentrate, could hardly talk, he thought he was going to cum just there. Why didn't Mike stop staring at him. Mike hardly talked, just a bit about footie, about his work but didn't stop looking at David. He knew that would make him nervous and that was what he wanted, he wanted to make him lose control. Once he got that, everything would be easy. He also had a plan.

City Of Heroes Pc Game

Sat, 31 Mar 2012 18:56:55 +0000

One of the ways I spend my little free time is playing City of Heroes, a pc game that allows the player to be a superhero (or villain). It's free to play, and it's a MMORPG which means you are playing with many others on the web at the same time. One of the unique features in character customization is that your hero (or villain) can have a cigar in his mouth. (There is no cigar option for female characters.) Unfortunately, the choices do not allow for facial hair AND a cigar... it's facial hair OR a cigar.

The game can be played for free or by subscription. Right now, I'm a free player.

One of the options a subscriber has access to is supergroup formation. In the past, I was a subscriber, and had access to this function. If one forms an SG, one may also purchase a "base" (or a "lair" for villains) which one may furnish as the group sees fit.

I've very occasionally been given grief by other players for naming characters after cigar-related things, but usually, it's a good way to virtually meet some real cigar smokers and chat with them during downtime in game.

Something I never did was form a supergroup or villain group on my own. I'd like to do it once, and it would mean becoming a subscriber again... and I'd call it the Humidor allowing only characters who have chosen the cigar stub for costuming to be in the group.

The base would be furnished as a lounge area... and there have been options for "torture" equipment (villain bases use these, but considering the double meaning of, say, a rack, it's not surprising I have seen them in bases run by kinky gay players.)

So does anyone here play CoH/CoV? Anyone have an unaffiliated toon with a cigar or want to create one?

It would take a little time to become a subscriber, so if I created the Humidor group, it would not be instant...

gpc

Travel Advice

Sat, 31 Mar 2012 17:27:07 +0000

Not sure if this topic has been covered before, but I've just booked a holiday by air. My big worry is the time I'll have to spend without smoking. On a normal day, 15-20 minutes is the longest I go without a cigarette. Including time in the airport and the flight in will be 6 or 7 hours. It frightens me just thinking about going for so long. Any advice?

Anyone Know Who This Guy Is?

Wed, 28 Mar 2012 18:44:34 +0000

Every once in a great while I come across a new picture of this guy, and I've always wondered who he is. He obviously likes his cigars, and likes to model. Putting this together, I'm inclined to believe he might have a site somewhere.

Anyone know anything?

Attached Thumbnails

Smoking In Russia

Wed, 28 Mar 2012 01:46:58 +0000

I ran accross this article from nearly a year ago. Bad news, Russia is following the west by becoming anti-smoking Nazis by giving out suckers in exchange for cigs (WTF!). I doubt there is much to worry about as Russia is notorious for ignoring stupid laws. And there is at least one sensible 'real man' in Russia, "I won't give up smoking until they stop selling cigarettes," said Ivan Mityaikin, 30

Read more: http://www.vancouver...l#ixzz1qN7GZhW9

Cigar Overdose

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 23:04:45 +0000

Have you ever gotten ill from smoking a cigar? Tell us about it. Have you ever started someone on cigars and they got ill?

Late Night Talk Show Comedian On Smoking

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 08:27:12 +0000

If anyone happened to catch Jimmy Fallon late night Friday evening, March 23, (actually Saturday morning 12:30AM), at the tail end of his show a very funny comedian spoke about smoking:

"I just flew in from Portland, and found out that it costs $2200 to smoke on a plane... Later at an outdoor restaurant patio, this woman comes up to me and says: "Excuse me... your cigarette... it's bothering me." I took a few beats, looked back at her and said: "Well, it's KILLING me... and if I don't care about me... why would I care about you?"

"close Cover Before Striking"

Sat, 24 Mar 2012 21:56:34 +0000

__________________"Close Cover Before Striking”or: “Welcome Home Sergeant Miller”______________________
____________________________________________by SmokeX____________________________________________________
__________________________________co-conceived & co-written by Inksmoker88________________________________________
__________________________________based on a picture comment by Smoke X_________________________________________
.
Part ONE: ON THE PLANE
'
'
When they were about to deplane, Sergeant First Class Nathan Miller began to get nervous. Even more nervous than before the agonizing 18 hour flight began. Sure he was to be reunited with his family—finally, after his two year tour of duty in Afghanistan, but most of all, nervous because after 18 hours without a cigarette, he thought his head was about to explode. How could he look ecstatic to see his fiance and his parents but still find some way to delay the inevitable rush to hug so he could just be somewhere by himself for a few minutes to pound down at least 6 or 7 reds to calm his nerves. He knew it would take at least that many or he wouldn't be able to function and might come across as an autistic ape instead of the 'great guy' everyone knew him as before he left.
'
'
For 18 hours and a few weeks before that, ever since he knew he'd b be coming back to the states, this question haunted Miller. Cigarettes came first. Period the end. His body had just become accustomed to them now and the cravings were endless. How could he last through 10 minutes of weepy hellos, much less an entire welcome home parade?
'
'
All he could think of was getting his old room back, or the basement, where he could smoke his 4 plus packs everyday in peace, drink his beer and stare at his porn while he spent the days and nights masturbating the pain of what he saw and did over there away. The trouble was: Neither his fiance nor his parents were aware of all these new vices. They were 100% dead against smoking but he'd be damned if he let them talk him into quitting. When a man's lungs are used to the power and sway that 80 cigarettes per day hold over him, he's as good as addicted for life. Miller knew that. 80 or 90 cigarettes every single day over the past full year, that means the tar and nicotine of at least 29,040 cigarettes infecting his lungs to the point where they will only let his body function anywhere near normal if they are CONTINUALLY fed another 29,040 cigarettes to his lungs over the NEXT year. And that doesn't include whatever increase it would take JUST to stay in normal range. It also doesn't count the 10,000 give or take he inhaled in that first year the minute he was introduced to the demon sticks only days after his arrival in the hottest, most driest, most inhospitable environment anywhere on earth.
'
'
One thing Nate couldn't do, in any way, shape or form, was give up his packs of cigarettes, his crutch that he developed in order to cope, and Nate could get a pretty nasty, aggressive temper if pushed too far. His masculine reflex would kick in and he'd likely tell anyone and everyone off if someone were to even insinuate something like “Nate, maybe you should cut back on your intake...” Oh no, that's not going to happen here. It better NOT happen here, or there'd be hell to pay. And Nate himself, on behalf of the devil would be going around to collect.
'
'
Miller was beginning to get nauseous in the last two hours, sandwiched in between 200 other sweaty, cramped and antsy returning servicemen. Packed in tight, elbow to elbow and awaiting their final descent. There were cheers when they learned they had entered U.S. Airspace but what Miller would have cheered for even more would be a head that wasn't already FULL to overflowing. In that much time, indeed, there was a man's ass on every toilet seat at every moment and the waste containers had been declared FULL. Now, with the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach and the airline's version of Shit on a Shingle having been served twice now, his bowels were churning as he tired to hold it in and only a cigarette could ease this discomfort. Fuck, my kingdom for a goddamned cigarette. Trying to look stoic, Miller came up with an idea.
'
'
Darting his eyes left and right and craning his neck, Miller waited for just the right opportunity to approach one of the now off-limits rest rooms. He wasn't intending on flushing any toilets, confident in his ability to 'hold it in.' What he was after was the suction from the sink drain. The flight attendants had become bored and less vigilant and he took a step from his aisle seat into the narrow aisle of the L-1011 and taking his time to look like he wasn't in any hurry—just up for a little exercise—went over to the closest toilet door. The latch was switched to 'vacant,' but there was a piece of black electrical tape over the latch, a mere diversion to keep an honest soldier out.
.
.
Nearby, other soldiers slept, rolled on top of one another, the smell of sweaty uniforms filling the air, others looked nervous, but either whispering together or looking blankly out of windows. This was his chance. As quietly as possible, Miller ripped off the black tape and opened the latch quickly, ducked into the head and closed it firmly behind him and flipped the lock so that it now read 'occupied' to anyone walking by—IF anyone walked by. The tiny space barely contained Miller's hunky frame and from the stench alone, to him it felt like a crammed FULL port-a-potty on some construction site. He reached in his pocket for his precious Marlboro white cylinder and clutched it as he leaned forward, hovering over the sink, smirking at himself in the dirty mirror before he began.
.
.
Miller leaned over with his head as far into the tiny basin as it could possibly go and still be in a position where he could light his cigarette... The matchbook he fingered would have to do because he couldn't take a lighter with him on the plane. It was a spare match book he had carried with him and used rarely ever since the moment that Miller knew he was a heavy enough smoker, and to have a plan B more than made sense—it was essential. He balanced it all while being able to keep one hand on the lever that would open—and SUCK the air down—the drain. The matchbook bore the emblem of Budweiser Beer, Clydesdale's and all plus what used to be the world's most printed sentence--according to the Guiness Book of World's Records at the time: “Close cover before striking.” Then he struck...
'
'

Smoke Up North - Poll. Who's Up For Leeds 21St April?

Sat, 24 Mar 2012 07:27:11 +0000

I know there are lots of great cities we could meet up in but Leeds is reasonably central and it's where I know. We could go to Manchester or Liverpool or Newcastle or Sheffield or... next time

For now I suggest meeting in Leeds on Saturday 21st April.

Here's what I've got in mind. To keep it cheap(ish), flexible and (hopefully) not too much work I don't think booking a venue is necessary - we can just take advantage of Leed's facilities and hope for decent weather.

First, for those who are interested, we could meet up about 4 o'clock. This is so we're in time to hit the shops. Specifically Leeds has two decent tobacconists - one more bargain but with a really good range of cigarettes and tobaccos plus some cigars. The other is more traditional with (not that I know much about them) better cigars and pipe tobaccos in jars. Then grab a coffee somewhere, try out our wares and get to know each other. Fancifully I imagine the experienced helping the novices - for instance I've never had a decent cigar and don't know where to start. Or maybe get some good smoking pics for people's profiles.

Second, dinner for those happier meeting in that setting. Leeds has loads of restaurants and I'll find somewhere reasonably modestly priced (to be inclusive) with good outdoor seating.

Third, do the gay scene. I know it's still a bit public but we'd be able to let our hair down a bit. Leeds scene isn't huge but there is a kind of village near the station. To be precise there are four bars, three with good outdoor seating, the other always clogs the street with smokers on a Saturday night. I presume there's at least one club too but that's a closed book to me. We're all grown ups so I don't propose herding people round like a school party, just act as a point of contact and guide. Where the night goes to is up to you.

Four, the brave souls (and I don't know if that's me) can take the trip a few miles out of town to Steamcomplex sauna for their Kink fetish night. Details at http://steamcomplexsauna.com/ and follow the link for themed days and nights. Steamcomplex is vast (seriously I've got lost in there more than once) there's a large bar and dance floor downstairs as well as sauna, steam room and tubs and as much space again upstairs for the play area. Best of all there is a smoking area which is as near indoors as they could get away with. So you don't have to get dressed to grab a smoke, though I'm not sure they'd be keen on action out there.

So if you're interested fill out the poll. If you're seriously interested drop me an email at need_to_smoke@yahoo.co.uk or through PM. Then, if there's enough interest to go ahead I'll firm up the details and get the information out to people.

Repost Request - Blood Of Tobaccula

Sat, 24 Mar 2012 02:01:23 +0000

Can someone please upload this great story back to the boards?

(Kinda) New Member Here!

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 23:25:32 +0000

Hi! I follow this forum for quite a while but I was too shy to post things. So now I made a new account and doing my first post. I always got turned on by people who smoke but I'm actually a non-smoker. I'd really like to meet up with someone just to try smoke a cigar or cig. If anyone is up for just a chat, feel free to send me a message! It would be nice to get to know some people around here.

Vegas Smoke Visit

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 22:45:02 +0000

If you are comming to town and want to smoke it up - say hey. Love a hot smoke and stroke in a smokey room.

Smoke Up North - Tbc

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 08:38:11 +0000

Anyone in northern England fancy getting together now the weather's bucked up a bit?

Yes?

Well, I'm willing to try and make it happen - sort out what, where and when. As a first step though I'd like to find someone else who's serious about this too, to bounce ideas off and to make sure at least two of us turn up. If that's you PM me.

If you're just interested that's fine, post, the more the merrier.

Then, hopefully, I'll post again either with details or a poll to sort out when and where will suit most people.

Interview With A Smoking Porn Star Pt. 1

Thu, 22 Mar 2012 20:49:47 +0000

This was an actual interview with a twink porn actor C J in 2007.

BT- So how many porn flicks have you done?

CJ - I just finished my 23rd one. I’ve done films for Eurocreme, Bare, Raw, and Twinkz to name a few.

BT - Did you smoke in all of them.

CJ - I smoked a lot making all of them, and actually smoked in some of them. I had been 69ing off screen with my costar to warm up and the fluffer was giving both of us inhales of pot. I didn’t exhale until I had his cock in my mouth. The director saw it and it was added to the film. Since then, smoking in more of the films have been added.

BT - Please elaborate - you said you smoked a lot making the films.

CJ - Yes. Several reasons - first the Viagra always causes me to smoke more. It’s like this craving. I put one cigarette out and I’m wanting another cigarette almost right away. It’s almost like I can’t get enough. The same thing happens a lot with pot and other substances.

BT - Other substances like?

CJ - Depending on what’s needed in the film, we also do EX and sometimes cocaine. They really push my cravings for cigarettes. Together and with some Viagra, I lose total control. I like that feeling very much.

BT - How much do you normally smoke?

CJ - Probably 30 - 40 cigarettes a day. More if I’m having sex or partying.
I’m always ready to do either - or both together.

BT - Are you gay, straight, bi?

CJ - Bi I guess. My first sex was with a girl when I was 12. I liked getting head and I liked fucking. I didn’t care for eating piussy as much as liked sucking cock.
I also liked cock up my ass.

BT - Tell me more about you like best.

CJ - Guys with big cocks. That is the very best. It gives me shivers throughout my body. There is no other feeling that I like better.

BT - Do the guys you have sex with smoke.

CT - Yes oh yes. I don’t know of any guys who do not smoke. It is very common here that everyone smokes. And guys smoke best.

BT - Why’s that?

CT - They taste better and it’s better sharing smoke.

BT - What do you mean by that?

CT - I love the taste and smell of tobacco. I like the stronger taste in their mouth when I am sticking my tongue in their mouth or i am sucking their tongue. Besides the tobacco smell on their body and sweat. Guys who smoke a lot are better. Much much better.

BT - So do you like smoking and sex together?

CJ - Very definitely yes. I like that the very best.

BT - When was the first time you had any kind of sex that included smoking.

CJ - I don’t remember really. I was in middle school and I used to jerk off with the other school boys. Sometimes, we would do it in the bathrooms at the school. Other times, we would light up a cigarette then pull out our cocks and stroke.

BT - What did you like best? and what was it like?

CJ - Cumming for sure. We would exhale a lot of smoke when we came. It was like total body release. I also like getting the other guy’s smoky cumming. Sometimes, we share our cigarettes so we could exhale smoke when we came.

BT - So how old were you then? what was it like?

CJ - Let’s see, middle school uh uh - probably nine or ten. I’d say nine. As soon as we discovered how to get our cock’s hard, we would smoke and stroke. I thought the cool guys smoking while stroking their cocks was best, especially when they would just leave the cigarette in their mouth and use both hands on their cock. That would get me very very excited. That would also make me stroke and smoke harder. Then that would get them to stroke and smoke harder too.

BT - When did you start smoking all the time?

C1 - Gosh! I just kinda started and the longer I smoked the more often I smoked. I guess I was 11 or 12 when my parent’s knew I smoked.

BT - What was their reaction?

CJ - Nothing much as I recall. h, they did say I’d have to pay for my own cigarettes. That was no problem because cigarettes are very cheap here. They were much cheaper then. I had a job after school so paying for cigarettes was never a problem.

BT - What kind of job did you have?

C - I worked in a relative’s food tavern. I washed dishes. Later I learned to prepare the different dumpling doughs, marinate meat before cooking. I really enjoyed that work. I plan to go to cooking school and become a chef. I really like cooking, but I like sex a lot more.

BT - And smoking?

CJ - Oh yes. That is like breathing smoke. Always. In the taverns it is always very smoky. I like it. It also is very together beer.

BT - When did you begin drinking beer? Any preferences?

CJ _ I grew up drinking beer and wine as well. It is just they way it is. My preferences depends on the occasion. Normally, I prefer a very stout dark beer/. Beer is much stronger here that in your country, the great USA.

BT - You have a lot of opinions about the USA and why I’m asking your questions?

CT - Oh yes, the mighty and great USA have many opinions and questions about your country.

TO BE CONTINUED ........

Frank Harper (Smokin Stars Database)

Thu, 22 Mar 2012 03:53:19 +0000

Anybody know what film the first two pics of Frank Harper (Smokin Stars Database) were taken from? He was obviously very early in his career then...

Aftermath Iv

Wed, 21 Mar 2012 08:54:51 +0000

IV.

OK I'm not particularly proud of that, but then it wasn't me chose the location. On the other hand I was a bit proud of my cock-sucking ability. With a bit more practice I think I could be really good. Certainly it wasn't noise from me we had to worry about, and I couldn't help a bit of satisfaction from the way I could get him moaning with pleasure. Pretty soon he shot his load – and this time I got a mouthful, I think he was for giving me another face-full but I wasn't having that. Then he just said, “Don't follow.” and he was gone. As if I was going to. I sat down, lit another fag and had the wank I needed so bad.

Feeling so much better I managed another couple on the way home, the last leaving me nicely buzzed and, hopefully, topped up to last a while. Sucking a mint for my breath I headed straight for the shower and changed 'cos there was quite a smell of smoke on my uniform. I got through a fair bit of homework before dinner. Soon as I'd finished though my thoughts turned to smoking. And stayed there. I couldn't concentrate on TV, I just kept thinking I need to get out for a smoke. But it was raining so another run would have been suspicious. Then I remembered it was DV8 night. That's the local LGBT youth group. I'd been a few times – it was actually my parents who suggested it – but I hadn't felt like I fitted in that much, I guess I'd just been a bit shy. Thinking how quite a few of them would huddle outside for a smoke it somehow seemed a whole lot more appealing.

Smoking, having something to do, seemed to make all the difference. Rather than feeling out of the group and was in the smoker's group. Though I did feel my plain tee-shirt, jeans and a cagoule was just boring. Like there was this guy, Lee, he was kind of outrageous, painted nails, blond streaks in his hair and stuff, but it looked really good. But then, turns out he was a drag queen too. And the things he said. Fabulously crude, we laughed like drains. So most of us ended up going down the pub – not a gay one, our town's too small for that, but one reasonably gay friendly. At some point when it was just me and Lee out in the courtyard having a smoke I said how I thought his clothes looked really good.
“Well dear, not all of us shop at George.” I nearly choked on my smoke, because that was exactly where my clothes had come from. “But I'm sure we could do something with you.” he added.

The upshot was I was meeting up with him and a few of his mates Saturday afternoon to shop then he'd 'see if he couldn't make something out of me' before going to the nearest proper town where there was a real gay pub, and Lee was in the 'revue'.

So, there's not that much to report for the rest of the week. Thankfully Bruce took to hanging out with the smokers most breaks, the rest weren't exactly riveting company. OK, to be honest I encouraged him. It was like I thought, he kept himself to just 20 a week. I found out the time I said, “Coming for a smoke?”
“Can't I'm out.”
“No problem, I've got plenty.”

So after that I'd sub him whenever needed. We didn't talk about it but I could see how it was. Aside from the cost (not inconsiderable, and I was wondering about getting a job) I could guess he wasn't as all for smoking as I was. Nevertheless you could see he was into it, never resisted the lure of cigarettes all that much. Well I knew about that. I'd definitely settled into smoking, knew what it was like to need one. Which was cool – when I could. That was getting harder and most days I didn't manage much more than ten cigarettes. I knew I was going to have to tackle my folks about it soon.

Quite simply I was loving being a smoker. It was hard to remember that it had been a bit difficult at first, how it had felt tough to inhale, when now sometimes the problem was inhaling enough. If I'd had to go a few hours without a smoke it was like I couldn't get enough. But then I'd noticed how the real smokers at school would sometimes take a couple of drags without exhaling between. It wasn't hard to get the hang of that. Or three even. Usually that was at night when I'd have my wank and smoke by the bedroom window. Of course you do talk about smoking but that was one bit I didn't mention to anyone. Still, something about smoking was so hot I was having the most amazing wanks. Without the whole smoking thing, the feel, the smell and most of all that warm nicotine buzz in my body, I just wasn't really interested in getting off. Awkward. I'm usually a three a day man but the one at night was the only time I could really get down to it. I resorted to the odd one in the bogs at the park and just once tried it in the bathroom. This was when I'd got in from school – I always showered to clear the smell but, well, you know how it is. I was so fucking horny. And, of course, I'd never leave my cigs lying round. So, OK, I was admiring myself a bit in the mirror. I mean, it's so cool when your dick stands right up, yeah? Well, then I kind of wanted to see what I looked like with a cig. Maybe that was the mistake. 'Cos of course I got a whole lot hornier, plus I wanted to see what I was like with that cig lit. Plus, well, maybe you know how it is, you take cig out and your body expects you to smoke it. So I took a chance. Put a towel down by the door, opened the window and ran the shower. I'm not regretting it. I mean, actually seeing myself light up, seeing how my smoking technique was all there, totally cool. I mean I really wasn't a kid any more. I'd really got French inhales by then too. And, well, I must have been really up for it because about the time I was having those last satisfying drags I totally sprayed cum all over that mirror. Totally amazing. Then a nice hot shower. Finally I flushed away the evidence and gave a good spray of air freshener. Even so over dinner dad asked mum if she'd noticed a funny kind of burning smell in the bathroom and I knew that was a pleasure I'd have to avoid. Somehow I was just going to have to 'come out' about my smoking. After all, I was eighteen, they couldn't stop me.

Well that's nearly it, before the big day that is. I was so excited about that on Thursday it was, I was hanging out with Bruce, having a smoke after school, that I thought I'd shock him by saying how I was going to a drag show on Saturday. Bugger me sideways, he only wanted to come too.

Rick And Luke

Tue, 20 Mar 2012 01:24:42 +0000

Rick and Luke

The word wasn’t going my way that day at all. I had been running late since water had come through the ceiling from the flat above me. It was especially infuriating as I’d just had the bathroom refitted and redecorated. Then I’d had to work late at the gallery because the assistant who allowed me off early on Friday afternoons was sick.

When I got into the house at 6.30, kicked off my shoes, lit a much needed cigarette and surveyed the damage in the bathroom I was disappointed to discover that my pal Steven had decided to call off going out that night after all. ‘Life’s a bitch’ at the moment I thought.

I’d been going with a guy for 7 years up to 3months before and was still finding it difficult to cope with all the free time I now had. And now Steven’s message meant I had even more.

Should I go out? I pondered this while cooking my stir fry dinner, while having a G & T and cigarette.

I got my answer when I discovered there was nothing on the television again and I thought that I was only 30 and not 70!

I stuck my tight while t-shirt, black leather jacket, jeans and boots and popped a cigarette between my lips and thought that’d do. True I had not had the time for a shower, bath or even a shave but I’d be fine. I checked my pockets and discovered I still had 3 cigars for later on at Pebbles.

I had a couple of pints of real beer at my favourite bar. I loved the thick smoky atmosphere. The crack was good but me being rather flat that night couldn’t be bothered, preferring instead a visit to the club to going back for a couple of spliffs to someone’s flat.

The music at Pebbles was good on all three floors and the atmosphere electric since it was the end of the month and everyone was flashing the cash.

I had a good wander over a few hours drinking, smoking and staring at the all the happy faces feeling somewhat detached. I started to wonder why I’d come our at all. All I’d do was end up with a hangover in the morning, or even worse waking up someone who otherwise I wouldn’t be seen dead with sober.

I saw my ex out with his new boy in tow but it didn’t stir me anymore. I missed the companionship and the sex but less so the latter. I longed for the familiarity and the habit. We had become nothing very much more but it was the close friendship that would be lost forever.

On the top floor, the quietest floor where folk tended to come to have a chat, a drink rather than a dance although there was a small dance floor, I became aware of a group at one of the tables beside the bar.

All had pints and all wore leather except one, and were smoking cigars. The guy without the leather was younger than the rest but not by much. He looked as drunk as the rest of them but not as comfortable.

He drank faster than the others, smoked more frequently but didn’t seem engaged in the conversation.

He had blond hair, blue eyes and was probably about 26/27 although he looked younger but perhaps that was because of his demeanour. He looked ill at ease. His muscular hands grasped his pint of beer and his cigar constantly. He smoked and drank like a pro and I could feel a stirring in my loins every time he took a puff of his large cigar.

His smoke spiralled from his lips, brushed his cheeks and danced about his gelled spiky hair.

He got up from the table leaving his almost finished pint but took his cigar from which he continued to inhale as wandered to me and the direction of the toilets.

I turned away to get my bottle of beer and also to retrieve my cigarettes being slightly embarrassed at my staring.

He bumped my elbow and my hand knocking my beer over my leather jeans. He looked surprised and a bit bemused and said in a voice thick with accent ‘I’m fuckin sorry mate. I’m a bit pissed. Had a good night on the bevy see? What are you drinkin?’

After that we just seemed to get on. He liked my cigars that he said were damn good compared to the cheap ones he’d been smoking earlier.

We just sort of ended up at my place having just caught the bus by a few moments and running up the road in the light rain.

I put some music on and he wanted beer. He sat down and took his smokes and dumped them on the table with his well used Zippo lighter and deftly lit and offered me a cigarette and the same time.

The music I’d picked warmed us as he rolled a loaded joint and got his tobacco pipe out. We got slowly stoned on top of all the alcohol. You could see the bulge in his trousers and I became aware that the same thing was happening to me. He got up and danced to the groove playing with his lighter and his pipe letting his soiled jeans fall down and then stepping out of them after skilfully removing his heavy brown suede boots. He revealed slightly tanned and hirsute muscular legs but not overdeveloped, with his bulging crotch bouncing as he played happily feeling himself and smoking ever more fiercely. He stopped briefly between songs to put on some matt silver plastic oval rimmed shades and asked me to watch as he loved being the object of desire.

The music lifted us both as I watched through the thickening smoky haze. He smiled intensely with his pipe between his lips he asked me to go into his jacket to find his other pipe expecting to find one of similar proportions but was instead faced with something much larger than I had ever seen before. It was metallic black with a bowl at least 2 inches deep and a longer than usual stem but it was just as light as the other.

He crouched down in front of me asked in a small voice to fill it for him as he blew smoke in my face. My eyes smarted and so did my dick finding my trousers increasingly constricting. As I filled his pipe he lit one my large cigars for me fondling the tube of tobacco up and down.

He passed the lit cigar to me and after releasing my trousers and lifting me up out of the settee rammed his pipe between his lips and danced in front of me with lighter flame being sucked into the large bowl. Increasing amounts of smoke came from his mouth and nose and also the red glowing bowl.

He stood on the sofa I had vacated and opened his arse for me writhing and going ‘fuck me fuck me…’

As I fucked his smoking intensified as did my own until we pumped in tandem, him still jigging to the beat while riding my dick.

His white froth suddenly shot our like a bullet more than I had seen for a long time. It made gloopy patterns on the wall as it headed for the floor.

He turned towards me and rammed the pipe in my mouth taking the cigar and putting it between his glistening lips. He didn’t care that saliva flowed from his lips in big long strands. We moved around and sat together in the sofa him egging me on chewing his flaming cigar.

He pumped my dick as I pumped his pipe. I could feel a fire burning in my abdomen building and building until I too shot my load.

Afterwards, as I laid the pipe down, he stared into my eyes having removed his sunglasses and said ‘that was fuckin great man better than ever before’.

He lit me a cigarette, swigged on his beer, puffed on my cigar and rolled another even more loaded joint.

Luke and I then chatted about crap as you do when you are getting stoned.

It dawned on me that I’d been asleep for a while and I realised that Luke too was asleep snoring like a train in the foetal position beside me on the settee. He was whimpering quietly.

I saw the debris and the stripe on the wall when I got up with legs like jelly gently placing Luke’s head on a large cushion I staggered to the kitchen desperate for a drink of water deciding instead to put on the kettle for a pot of tea.

I turned and Luke was there too smoking a fag and holding a joint in his other hand. I can’t remember when I’ve had such a good time he said as I realised that his appetite for smoking, hash and booze was much greater than mine. Given the possibility of more evenings like this however I may be able to fit in.

We spent the weekend together stoned and drunk just having sex, wanking each other off occasionally. Luke smoked his pipes and cigarettes. It was as close as I have ever got to heaven.

When he left on Sunday evening he still had rainbow eyes and was still wrecked. He said he got home okay and we kept seeing one another. After an erotically charged evening like that how could I refuse?

------------------------

The guy 'Rick' who is on the look out after breaking up with Steven I imagine to look like Nils Butler.
The guy 'Luke' I imagine to look like Chris Egan.

Attached Thumbnails

Nyc: Blkredsman Looking To Haul

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 19:40:53 +0000

Dedicated Reds smoker looking for masc, mature buds into smoke play. Masc BM, 52, 6', 190, shaved head, s&p goatee, tats -- blue collar type. Looking to hang out, kick back and haul ... can host.

Forcing Or Dominating Someone To Become Addicted?

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 18:44:48 +0000

I am a average white guy who lives in Virginia.

I have a serious interest in talking with someone who is in my state or a nearby one that would have a real interest in forcing or dominating me or through some method turning me into a cigarette smoker.

Willing to let you control what brand i smoke, get me as much or as little addicted to nicotine as you want, how much I smoke.

This is a fetish/fantasy that I have. Willing to submit to whatever method you want to use to force me. Tie me and make me smoke, put nicotine patches on me, whatever.

Drinkin' Men Dot Com

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 16:46:52 +0000

For reasons that make even less sense than those that seem to attract me to smoking and smokers, I also find a man that turns to drink on regular basis very horny.

Booze and cigs do seem to go very well together, but for me a man that takes it to another level and maybe is even considered to have a bit of a drink problem (or drinks every night and gets drunk at least twice a week) does seem to work for me sexually.

There are limits of course and I wouldn't want to be with a guy that gets so hammered he falls asleep during sex, but I do find heavy drinkers just as horny as heavy smokers.

If he woke up and needed a double scotch as well as a smoke, I'm not sure if I would stop him

Anyone else feel similar ?

Aftermath Ii & Iii

Mon, 19 Mar 2012 12:54:31 +0000

II.

Or maybe it's that you can't run away from someone like Daryl Watson so easily, 'cos he was waiting for me on the path, playing with that stupid crystal spinning top.

[Too right I was waiting for him. I'd hung around to film his little smoke and stroke session. Nice. Seen too that he hadn't seemed to enjoy our little encounter. Well, I knew a toss pot like Simon Mathers could go all pussy on me and that could turn ugly. Luckily I had my little crystal...

I could hardly see a bloody thing with my shades on so I had to ask, make sure he was under.
“You like the spinning top Simon?”
“Pretty.” he said, in that empty voice that told me all I needed to know.

So then I got to work. First I told him he wouldn't be interested in the crystal top. He wasn't stupid and if he got to trying to puzzle things out that might be trouble. Then I told him he'd really enjoyed sucking me off. That he'd get a boner thinking about it, want to do it again any time I'd let him and that he'd get better and better at giving blow jobs.

On the next spin I told him how he'd always wanted to smoke. How he'd smoke as much as he could, and get boned about it. Boned about buying proper packs of twenty. Boned about trying different brands. And boned more than anything about how he'd crave cigs more and more. And totally boned about getting hooked and how he just couldn't resist smoking. And finally, knowing how boned he was going to be all the time, I told him he wouldn't be able to cum unless he was smoking. But I wasn't a total cunt, I told him too, he'd love how cool and sexy he felt for being a smoker.]

So I looked at his spinning top for a bit, like I was interested or something. So then he acts all matey, well offered me a fag anyway. I should think so too, seeing as I'd just blown him off. Might as well make the most of my smoking time I thought. When we'd done I was nicely buzzing so then I had a good run, getting in one more smoke before home and a shower.

Later, getting ready for bed I was going to put my running kit in the wash basket when I noticed it smelled slightly of smoke. Kind of nice and reminded me it had been hours, still I'd have to be careful about that. Sometimes I'm not so sure about my imagination. The first thing that came to mind was being back there, in the bushes, only totally naked to keep the smoke off my kit and then my dick's totally hard and I really want a smoke. As if that's going to be on, it's such a totally non-smoking house they make granddad go outside to smoke. Of course now that I've finally got round to actually smoking, plus how it's totally amazing, I can't think of anything else. Why shouldn't I smoke, it's still fucking legal after all. I don't have to smoke up the whole house, but I should be able to do what I want in my own room. But I reckon not yet. They'll need to see I'm serious about smoking first. When I'm hooked they aren't going to be able to just dismiss it. Yeah, but how's that going to happen if I don't smoke when I want one. Like now. It's amazing. I didn't think it'd happen so quickly but I can feel like my body wants one. So all I can think about is lighting up. How good that smoke tastes. I tried reading but I can't help thinking about how good it'd be to smoke a cigarette or two, or three... Well, I'm lying there naked in bed and I'm a teenage lad so you can bet I'm playing with myself. 'Cos that's the other amazing thing. I fucking sucked cock. OK it was Daryl, still it was a real, live, hard and spurting cock. And who knows, I wasn't bad but next time, if there is a next time, I'm sure I could give Daryl such a good blow job he's going to keep coming back. Well, I'm really getting into that one, I can tell you. Thinking too how getting one off is the sure fire way of getting to sleep. I'm horny as fuck but I can't seem to get off. I know what it is. I don't just want a smoke, I need one. I look at the clock and its half one already. Well, no one's going to be up, that's for sure. I've been thinking about it enough, I'm fucking going to do it. So first I put a towel on the bottom of the door to be sure no smell gets out, then I open the window fully then kneeling by the open window I put my cigarettes and lighter on the sill. I can feel the night breeze on my bare skin as I'm pumping away then I take the cigarette, hold it in my lips so I'm still pumping as I light up. Oh god, that's so good. It's like pure pleasure as I inhale the smoke then let out a nice big exhale into the night. Oh yeah, that is so fucking good. The end glows bright as I take a harder drag, the big load of smoke feels satisfying in my lungs. I hold it there so I can get all the goodness out of it. It feels so amazing. I realise before smoking had been kind of an effort, now, now I wanted it, it felt so much better. And as the pleasure and relaxation flow through my body I can feel my nuts boiling up, know now I'm getting there. So I let my mind fill with thoughts of sucking Daryl's cock, him smoking as I do it, him feeding me the fag. I flip a bit of ash out of the window. It's kind of frantic, hard drags on my cig, really beating my meat and then I can feel it coming so I suck in as much smoke as I can, without exhaling I take two, three drags then hold it as I feel my nuts boiling over and gasp out a huge cloud of smoke as my jizz just comes flowing out. One final drag and I sent the cigarette end sparking through the night, wipe up the wall and go to bed and out like a light.

III.
“Fucking hell, backs against the wall lads.”
That was the 'greeting' I got when I joined the smokers behind the science block the next morning. Trust me, I've had a lot worse, and anyway it was easy to ignore them. I was a man on a mission, so I just got my cigs out. Only two left, have to get some more on lunch break. I lit up and inhaled deeply. That got a double take off one or two. Of course dicks like them always think because you're gay you're a pansy, but one of the things I liked about smoking was it was kind of manly. Though I was getting used to it pretty good it had been tough to inhale at first. Well, I got kind of a kick out of toughing it, and I could certainly do with the image boost.

That said, it wasn't that difficult. The smoke went down sweet as I knew it would, given that I'd been a bit distracted through the last ten minutes or so of maths, thinking how I was going to join the smokers at break for the first time, and feeling how much I wanted a cig. It was kind of cool and a totally unexpected thing about smoking that I kind of liked that feeling. It wasn't just that being hungry for it made those first drags so good. It was the feeling I got that even when I wasn't smoking it was still with me. I was still a smoker. Well, on the way anyway. There was something about the promise and the reassurance of the pack in my backpack that... well, it was oddly hot. It was like there was so much more to smoking, to becoming a smoker, than I'd imagined. It was a bit distracting though, especially as I seemed to get a stiffie when I thought about lighting up.

I know, it's kind of weird but there you are. It was the first thing I thought about when I woke. I mean, you know smoking's addictive but that's just a word, waking for the first time and feeling that new desire in my body for a cigarette, that's real. Of course I'd woken with a hard on. A really good one, no surprise really, given the sensational wank I'd had the night before. That, and the scene with Daryl in the park, was first rate fantasy material, only after a while fantasy wasn't enough. What I really wanted was to smoke and wank again. If I couldn't get to suck Daryl off that is. Well, that might take some figuring out. So I didn't finish what I'd started. Instead I got up early (for me), did my exercises - push ups, crunches, a few weights, showered, ate a quick breakfast and hit the road early planning to walk to school so I could smoke on the way. Soon as I was round the corner I lit up. Totally amazing. It had been nearly seven hours so I suppose my body was kind of cleared of nicotine and seemed to really welcome its return. None of that feeling I got smoking my third cig in under half an hour with Daryl in the park. That had been kind of pushing myself, now my body was eager for all the smoke I could give it. By then end of that first cigarette I was filled with a warm glow of pleasure. It was so good I had another just before getting to school.

I was almost tempted to have a second in the morning break. I could have but I only had one left so I thought it better to save it for lunchtime. Good idea because when it finally came I was out of the gates and lighting up soon as I could. That got me one or two looks. I did wonder what my mates might make of it, but I'd left them behind, just saying I was heading for the shops. This lad Josh who'd been there smoking at break-time came up and asked for a light. I was a bit surprised he smoked. I didn't know him, he was in the year below, but I'd noticed him. He was cute, floppy hair and full lips that looked pretty good with a cigarette. He asked where I was headed and I said I was going for more cigs. Shyly it came out, the guy in the shop had ID'd him and now he wouldn't serve him. Before he could ask I said would he like me to get him some. Anytime. Well, then we somehow got to talking about different brands. I mean, I liked Lamberts but they were a bit chavvy. Turned out he'd been smoking on and off for a few years so he'd tried quite a few different cigs. Of course he couldn't really tell me what they were like, though I did try a drag on his Marlboro light. The taste was much better and the draw easier, but it was a bit mild. He was a bit surprised I'd only just started. Making up for lost time, I joked. The time passed easily, he was nice. I wasn't sure if he wasn't flirting back a bit too. Anyway soon I'd got him another ten Marlboro lights and twenty in the red pack for me and we took them and the sandwiches we'd got to the park. Not that park, another one. When we'd eaten we had a smoke and I was very pleased with my new choice. He had this funny (well, also kind of sexy) way of inhaling some of the smoke through his nose and I asked him about it. French inhaling it was called and I had a go at it. Not easy and it stung a bit. There was something nice about it too. I had a lot to learn about smoking.

Walking back I, naturally wanted to get another smoke in, it seemed like Josh wasn't going to – I'd got the impression he rationed himself, not surprising because cigs aren't cheap – still, it's kind of nicer smoking together, so I offered one of mine. He clearly liked it, which was pleasing and just a wee bit sexy.

With a whole pack of twenty I had no problem about smoking two in afternoon break-time. There was some kind of weird thrill about being so unhealthy like that and going into PE with my whole body buzzing with nicotine. I had to be careful getting changed, something about the smell of smoke on my clothes and fingers and I nearly popped a boner. Always embarrassing with me it might have been misunderstood. Anyway we had a good hard game of basketball and I was pleased all the smoking hadn't slowed me down at all...

That was the end of the school day and afterwards I found myself hanging out with one of my mates. Unkindly his parents had called him Bruce, but I didn't hold it against him. Plus he'd been one of the people who'd really stood by me when I came out. Still I wasn't sure how he'd take me smoking. As we packed up our stuff I knew I was going to find out pretty soon because the urge for a smoke seemed to come on me as soon as I'd got my breath back.

“What's got into you?” he asked just after we'd got through the school gates and away from most of the crowd.
“What?”
“I just asked if you wanted to go stick your head in a bucket of dung and you just grunted.”
“Oh, right. Er... I wasn't listening.”
“I figured that much out.”
“Sorry, I was just wondering... you ever smoke Bruce?”
“What? No.”
“Never?”
“Well, tried it, once or twice you know. Look what's this about?” but then he saw Danny taking one from the red and white pack, “No way, you smoking?”
“Sure, why not? You want one?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Suit yourself.” Danny said, and lit up. I knew it wasn't going well with Bruce but in spite of that the warm pleasure as I inhaled was so comforting.
“I don't get it,” Bruce said after a bit, “What brought this on.”
“Oh I don't know. I just, kind of always wanted to try it and... I like it.”
“Well you never said anything about it. Other than how smoking was a big turn off and it must be like kissing an ashtray.”
“Yeah, well, you're not planning on kissing me are you.”
Which just got Bruce shaking his head. Things turned chilly after that. Usually we'd go hang out at his for a bit. Blow things up on his playstation. Instead he mysteriously had something to do and buggered off, leaving me at a loose end. Sat on the same bench where I'd had lunch with Josh I thought I might as well have another smoke. Without Bruce's disapproving presence I was able to enjoy it in peace. It was a bit odd though. I did remember having said that about smoking being a turn off. Odd, 'cos it was anything but. In fact as I sat there, remembering Josh by trying a couple of French inhales I figured part of the reason I was so uptight was that I needed a wank. Well, unlike the other park this one had a functioning if not very savoury toilet block, and there had been the odd time when I'd gone their for some quick relief. Plus I recalled how, though you weren't supposed to smoke in there people obviously did. I was just talking myself into believing I wouldn't get caught. Thinking how best not to hang around too long checking there was no one around – those bogs had a reputation. Not just the usual graffiti, I'd once come across an old boy in there actually wanking himself at the urinal. So I certainly didn't want to seem I was cruising the place. So I was just about to dart in there when there's a crunch on the gravel behind me.
“Hanging round for some action are you, cock-sucker?”
“Oh fuck off, Watson.” I said, though thoughts of his dick hadn't been far from my mind.
“That's a dirty mouth you've got, Danny boy.”
“Well you'd know.” I said, taking a final drag and putting my cig out with my foot. I knew I was taking a chance, being cheeky. At the same time desire was swelling up inside me.
“You know I definitely prefer it when you don't speak. Or when you can't speak. And, you know, I think you do to. Don't you, cock-sucker?”
I couldn't think of anything to say to that. But I blushed. He might have been a total dickhead but I just wanted to suck his dick so bad.
“Right.” he said, lighting up, then whispered, “Far cubicle, wait a minute and then not a word, just get down to business.
He left then, and probably I should have. Instead I lit another cigarette, counted up to sixty and went in.

How Often Does A Hard Core Smoker Brush His Teeth?

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 23:39:57 +0000

A lot of us envy guys who have yellowed nicotine stains on their fingers and yellowy, smokers teeth. Am just curious, from what they say about tooth decay and all, how often does a hard core smoker brush his teeth? Please say so, and why, and especially if any part of, say, NOT brushing teeth is a particular turn on. (We don't follow the common thinking on what it does to our lungs, so just trying to figure out if anyone cares about dental hygiene either).

Thanks Uncle Will

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 11:07:35 +0000

I remember how I started very well. I was a teen who always did everything perfectly. My non-smoking parents raised me to be a perfect little over-achiever. Friends would have parties with lots of drinking and smoking going on but I always said no because I was raised to always be a good boy.

That all changed the day my uncle moved in. The economy had just tanked and Uncle Will lost his job so my parents let him move into the spare bedroom in the basement. My room was next to his downstairs and I remember waking up more then a few times to the sound of his bedpost pounding against the wall we shared. I didn't know what it was at first but after hearing more then a couple of girls screaming and moaning, I figured out it was just his latest fuck. Uncle Will was a boxer who worked out three hours a day, and his body showed it. He had rock hard abs and huge pecs, completely covered in fur. His calves were perfectly toned and he had huge feet that balanced out his 6 foot 2 inch frame perfectly. It was no wonder he was able to get one hot girl after another into his bed almost every night.

Uncle Will also smoked, and he smoked a lot. My parents didn't like it so he would smoke outside during the day and when they were awake but after they went to bed he would close the door to the basement and light up right away. One night, right after he finished fucking the brains out of his latest girl, I heard the door to his room open. By this point I had learned the art of masturbation and I would sit by his door and jerk off to the sounds of his dirty talk: "Yeah, you like that you dirty bitch don't you?", "Suck on that big cock, you know you want it", "God your pussy is so fucking tight, I'm gonna make it nice and loose."

Anyway, I knew Uncle WIll liked to walk around naked and I figured this was my chance to take a look at his package. Sure enough, I propped my bedroom door open just a bit and saw his naked body doing laundry. A cigarette rested between his fingers but then he went to adjust himself. He put the smoke up to his thick, supple lips and used his hand to adjust his balls. When he did this I was finally able to get a glimpse of his package, and it was definitely something to behold. His balls were huge, the size of golf balls, but hung nice and low. His dick was at least seven inches soft and uncut, just like me. His pubes were wild and untrimmed, just like I imagined a guy who didn't give a shit about neatness would have. He was perfect.

Uncle Will had just finished putting the laundry away but he still stood outside his bedroom. He looked in the mirror outside his door and started dragging real hard on his smoke; he would only ash it every once and a while and then put the ashes on his cock, where some of it got caught in his pubes. While one of his hands held the cig in place, his other hand was jerking his thick cock. He did this for another couple of minutes before I finally gave in and let out a moan. My shorts were down to my ankles by this point and I was still squinting, trying to get a better look through the opening of my door. Uncle Will turned around and looked straight at my door. He was walking straight towards me but I didn't care, my dick was too hard and I was pumping away too much to let go.

Just before he got to my door, Uncle Will dropped his smoke on the ground and lit up two more in his mouth. His thick cock was hard by this point and grew to its full eight and a half inches. He swung open the door to my room and with out saying a word he bent down and kissed me. His mouth was full of smoke and I felt the taste of nicotine entering my body. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to my bed. Uncle Will still had both cigarettes in his mouth at this point, letting them ash onto my head and naked body. He through me onto my knees and said, "Like what you see?" I tried to fumble out a response but before I could say anything he shoved his dick into my mouth and said, "Suck it nice and good."

I could taste his precum and, mixed with the taste of his cigarettes, I almost came right away. I had never sucked a dick before but I knew right away that it was what I liked. He used one hand to smoke his cigs, ashing every now and then right onto my body, and used his other hand to pump my head over his dick. His balls kept slapping my chin and throat but I didn't care; in fact, I liked it. He would yank my head off of his manhood every now and then to breathe some of his smoke into my lungs: "We're going to make a smoking man out of you, boy." All I did was nod and say "Thank you sir" before I went back to sucking his delicious cock.

Eventually, Uncle Will yelled out "Fuck yeah, I'm gonna bust a nut right in your mouth" and sure enough, he did. The streams of man juice poured out of his dick and down my throat, almost gagging me the way his cock had. I was still on my knees, looking up at him as I was enjoying every last ounce of his amazing, thick cum. "You like that boy?", Uncle Will asked. I meagerly replied yes and then he lit up another two cigarettes. This time he gave one of them to me; "Here's your reward for a good job." I dragged deeply on the smoke and instantly loved the taste, the feeling of the wet butt reminding me of the warm spit my uncle had spit onto the floor while I was licking his cock.

Uncle Will through me onto the bed and just as he wrapped his hand around my throbbing dick, the lights to the basement turned on. "Will?..." It was my dad, and Will took his hand off me and put his own cigarette, almost completely down to the butt, in my mouth to hold for him.

"Yeah? I"ll be right there." For now I would have to wait for some reciprocation but the first experience of sucking Uncle Will's cock and tasting a smoke will always keep my smoking habit (two packs a day) alive.

Just Saying Hello!

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 15:31:01 +0000

Hey guys! I'm new to the site and just wanted to say hello. I don't smoke, but I definitely get boned up watching! Nothing is hotter than seeing thick smoke pour out of a man's mouth. Love watching guys fill their chest to the max with smoke and allowing their body to completelty absorb it... HOT! Not quite familliar with all the smoking jargon yet, but learning quickly! If anyone wants to chat sometime feel free to email me jc2561@ymail.com. Definitely interested in making some friends on here!

Anyone A Non Smoker Into Smokers?

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 14:18:35 +0000

Hi all UK smoker here, was just curious to see if we are all smokers really. Anyone a non smoker? Reply with either smoker or non, just being nosey and bit of fun

New To The Neighborhood Goes To The Polls. Please Vote

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 16:34:27 +0000

We are at a crossroads with this inner-active story. Please take a moment to go vote your opinions.
This poll only lasts until Monday, 3/19/12.

Thanks for your interest in this story.

http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=4672

Miami, Fl March 25Th

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 22:33:12 +0000

I willl be in Miami, specifically Miami Lakes, on Sunday March 25th for business. Would love to meet up with another smokin bud for some hot fun.

What Was Your 1St Cig Like?

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 14:28:17 +0000

I'm sure most of us remember our 1st smoke like it was yesterday. So what was yours like? Did you like it? Cough much? Was it arousing? How'd you get ahold of it? What was the brand, etc?

For me . . . no one in my immediate family smoked. In fact they were extremely anti. I was about 14 and had run across my Dad's old pipes from when he had smoked before I was born. My uncle lived 2 doors away and he was a BIG pipe smoker. I also took care of his dog on the few occasions when he was away for the day. Put 2 and 2 together . . . sneaked some pipe tobacco (Prince Albert) from my uncle, put it in one of my Dad's old pipes, and started the learning process. Loved watching smoke come out of my mouth. After a few bowls, I was inhaling. Not a lot at first; just a whiff here and there. Never really coughed up a lung or anything like that. I guess I was going at it rather slowly and cautiously. But knowing the smoke was now coming from deep inside my lungs really boned me up and made me want to get more out of it. But I wanted to (needed to is probably a better description) try a cigarette. Well my buddy's parents smoked (but not my buddy) and that was back when families put out smokes on the coffee table for visiting friends. So I pocketed one and waited for my parents to go out. Stoked up that L&M, took a drag . . . and was amazed. Holy shit! So mild. So benign. Arousing? Shit yeah! Compared to the pipe tobacco I was getting used to, this was like breathing in warm, thick air. Felt f---ing great. Shit, now I had to go out and get myself my very own pack. The rest is history. Except that I soon discovered Reds in a vending machine. Very masculine. All the cool kids were smoking them. Stuck with them for awhile, then discoved Ports. Another revelation . . . menthol. Icy. Cool. Sweet. Now I alternate between the two, and rarely do I have just one pack. For me, it's a pack of each. Best of both worlds!!!

Manchester End Of The Month

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 12:21:19 +0000

I'm in Manchester 30th March- 1st of April, got a smoking room in a hotel if anyone fancies meeting up? I'm down for a conference, so no guarantees for times etc, but if you want to chat and we can keep in touch, drop me a line.

Cigartease On Tumblr

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 00:32:52 +0000

Guys, those of you into cigars and pipes might want to check out my tumblr site. www.cigartease.tumblr.com. Cheers! -gunpowdercub

Las Vegas 3/14

Sat, 10 Mar 2012 04:03:46 +0000

In Vegas for a night, looking to meet some hot smokers for fun. All types of cigs get me turned on, but guys that smoke 100's or are willing too, get me really boned. Staying at the Hard Rock near the loop. Qpen minded, looking for 21 -50, clean cut guys. Anyone interested? 39, 6'3", 195 brown blue, thin frame.

Missing Plug In

Sat, 10 Mar 2012 00:43:00 +0000

Can anyone help me out with the "missing plug in" that I don't have - and only needed today to see the latest pics?

How To Survive Not Smoking On An Aircraft

Thu, 08 Mar 2012 17:41:29 +0000

hi guys, I have to go to Japan next month and already are dreading not being able to smoke for at least 13 hours.
how do you guys cope?

Santorum Is A Hardcore Smoke Fetisher

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 21:25:31 +0000

I don't think he is. But negative campaigning seems to be very effective in the US, and if spreading the rumour would help to avoid that someone so incredibly religious and foolishly conservative becomes a true opponent for Obama, it is worth spreading the rumour.

What would happen in the US if he actually was a smoke fetisher? Except that you would start considering to vote for Santorum...

Santorum Is A Hardcore Smoke Fetisher

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 21:25:04 +0000

Cig Brand You Started With And Why?

Mon, 05 Mar 2012 15:29:12 +0000

Hey everyone!
Just want to know which was your first cigarette when u started and why did you choose that one?

Mine was a Marlboro Red when i was 11, dont know why, but was always fascinated by Marlboro smokers and the ads

Fetish Seen From Outside

Sun, 04 Mar 2012 02:06:15 +0000

Hi people!
If you have a look at this site: fumadores.superforos.com
What would you say it is about?
For me, it's evident that it is a site in spanish for men who are turned on by smoking girls. But for some non-fetish smokers I know, it's a forum for smoking girls (?)
I think it's helpless. With very few exceptions, it's only fetishers who can understand what a fetish, or a smoking fetish, is.
This is disappointing for me sometimes, but it has its positive effects. One of them is that I can smoke with other guys without they getting bothered by my "enjoying" of the moment.

The Piano Lesson

Fri, 02 Mar 2012 18:53:50 +0000

I always looked forwards to my piano lesson at Mr Craig’s house. It wasn’t because I had a great love of music, or even because I had any serious aspirations to be a pianist. It was simply because he was a heavy smoker.

My parents both smoked, as did my older brother, but none of them smoked quite like Mr Craig. He would have a cigarette burning between his lips, frequently inhaling deeply and then exhaling smoke from his nose. I would watch as his cigarette gradually burned down to the filter, and then marvel at how he would then use it to light the next. He would continue to do this all through my piano lesson. He smoked more cigarettes in an hour than my father did all evening. One evening I counted – eight cigarettes in an hour.

As I played the piano I would breath in deeply to capture some of his cigarette smoke. I could feel a warm sensation as the smoke made its way into my lungs. Sometimes my eyes would start to run from all the smoke, but that didn’t bother me.

One evening I heard a telephone ringing in the hallway; a few seconds later Mrs Craig called for her husband. Mr Craig placed his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and left the room. I stared at the burning cigarette. I had often been tempted to try one, after all there were always packs lying around at home. But for some reason I had always resisted temptation; I was probably scared I might get caught.

I leaned over and picked up the cigarette. I looked at it for a few seconds. Mr Craig was engrossed in conversation outside the door. I placed the cigarette between my lips and gently drew in some smoke. It was a strange feeling. I then blew the smoke out again. I can’t really explain how I felt. It wasn’t so much having smoke in my mouth, but more to do with knowing I was kind of smoking, albeit at that stage, not inhaling. I took more smoke into my mouth and allowed the taste to fill my mouth. I then placed the cigarette between my lips and kept it there, mimicking what Mr Craig did.

When it became obvious Mr Craig’s conversation was coming to an end, I quickly replaced the cigarette back on the edge of the ashtray, praying he wouldn’t somehow know what I had been doing in his absence. The lesson continued.

The following day I couldn’t wait to get to school to tell my best friend Alex that I had smoked a cigarette. I admit I did exaggerate somewhat. I told him that Mr Craig had had to go down to the shop to buy more cigarettes, and whilst he was out I had lit up one of his cigarettes and smoked it all the way down to the filter. Alex was impressed by this, and was soon begging me to steal a couple of cigarettes from my father’s pack so that we could smoke a cigarette together the following day.

When I got home it dawned upon me that Alex would soon know I had been exaggerating when he saw I wasn’t inhaling the smoke. I had a rough idea of what was involved when it came to inhaling. I had watched my parents and brother smoking for long enough. I decided I needed to quickly learn, thus not loosing my credibility with Alex.

I soon found a pack and took out three cigarettes. I then went out into the garden and found a spot that was not overlooked. I lit a cigarette and placed it between my lips. At first I just sucked in a little smoke and then blew it out again. So far so good. I then decided I needed to try and inhale some smoke. My first attempt was disastrous. As soon as the smoke hit the back of my throat I started coughing. I knew I had to give it another go. Again the smoke got as far as the back of my throat, but I quickly had to blow it out again. I decided to practice inhaling without smoke. After a few goes, I placed the cigarette back between my lips. This time I managed to get some smoke down towards my lungs. I suddenly felt dizzy. It wasn’t turning out to be as easy as I had expected. I tried to visualise my brother inhaling – it seemed so easy when he did it. I tried again. A bit better. I practiced a while longer, although I somehow knew the smoke wasn’t going down as far as it should have been.

The cigarette had now burned down close to the filter. I took a fresh cigarette and managed to light it from the one I had been smoking. At least I got that right. It wasn’t till the third cigarette though that the smoke was starting to easily enter my lungs. I was still getting a bit of a dizzy sensation, but I sensed that would soon go.

An hour or so later I decided I needed to get hold of two more cigarettes to take with me to school. Fortunately my brother was taking a shower so I took his pack from his jacket pocket and extracted two cigarettes. I carefully wrapped them in a sheet of paper and placed the package in my school bag. I then went down to the kitchen and took a disposable lighter from the cupboard. Mission accomplished.

At noon Alex and I quickly exited the classroom and made our way over to some waste ground at the back of the school. Alex looked nervous as I handed him a cigarette. I lit my own first, and then took a tentative inhale. My head started to spin a little but I managed to hide that fact from Alex. I then told him to place his cigarette between his lips so that I could light it. At first it didn’t light. I had to explain to him that he had to suck on the cigarette as I lit it, but not too much at first. He sucked just enough for the cigarette to take hold. He quickly blew the smoke out again. I again inhaled into my lungs. I was pleased with myself as I felt the warm sensation in my chest. I didn’t push Alex to try inhaling; I didn’t want him to be put off from tying it again.

Over the next few days it became a daily ritual smoking a cigarette each during our break. I even managed to get a whole pack of cigarettes from a carton my father had bought. I hoped he would assume my brother had taken a pack.

It wasn’t long before I started feeling like a smoke before school. I would go down to my spot in the garden and enjoy a cigarette before breakfast. And soon I was smoking at least two during the evening. Getting hold of cigarettes was still a problem though. If I got too greedy it would surely be noticed. Being only twelve years old didn’t help either. None of my other friends had yet started experimenting with smoking, so I couldn’t go to them for advice. But I had to find a way of regularly getting enough cigarettes.

Salvation came quite unexpectedly. One evening I was enjoying a cigarette in the garden when my brother suddenly appeared. He looked bemused as he watched me smoking. I was unsure how he would react. But he just smiled and took his pack out. Seeing I was close to the filter he offered me a fresh cigarette. I lit it from the old one. He looked impressed. It was agreed that he would buy me packs, although I had to hand over the correct money from my spending money. He even suggested that I could sit with him in his bedroom when I felt like a smoke, that way I could smoke undetected by my parents.

My weekly visits to Mr Craig’s house for my piano lessons now became something of an ordeal. Having to sit there watching him chain smoke whilst desperate for a smoke myself was almost unbearable. It even crossed my mind to ask him if I could smoke during my lesson, but I guessed that might not go down very well with him.

Have You Gotten Others To Start Smoking:

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 20:55:25 +0000

While it's super hot to read how a guy started smoking, it's even hotter to read how one of us got another to start smoking.

Many of you, in the Smoke Fetish Survey, indicated that you have gotten others to take up smoking.

Please share your story[ies] and spare no details.

SMOKEFUCKIN THANKS!
Jeff

ps
don't forget to post your own smoke start on the SMOKE STARTS section of the jeff boards. It's the ONLY smoke start collection on the net for guys.
http://www.btjeff.ne...ea103ba2f0dfb51

Your View On Damage

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 12:56:40 +0000

What applies to you and why? I don't know how to make a proper poll, here, so just write what you think about it.

* Although I am a fetisher, I don't smoke because I am afraid smoking will affect my health.
* I smoke, but I try to limit my smoking, because I am afraid smoking will affect my health
* I smoke a lot and I am afraid smoking will affect my health
* I smoke a lot, because I WANT to cause damage to my lungs
* I don't smoke anymore, because I suffer from lung damage
* I suffer from lung damage, but I still smoke and I don't want to quit

Any other point of view could be interesting too, of course.

Any Muscled Hairy Chested Guys In Sf Want To Start Smoking?

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 15:32:48 +0000

I'm looking for muscled hairy chested men or guys who don't smoke or don't smoke much but want to get into some intense smoke sex.

Poz Smokers

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 10:53:36 +0000

hiv+ healthy marlboro smokers am I alone in this world?

Father/son Moment At Airport!

Sun, 26 Feb 2012 18:41:51 +0000

i recently went on holiday via Manchester airport where they actually have a very small caged in open air area for smokers. I spent most of my waiting time here! I think i would like to spend my holiday in there too after my chance sighting. I was smoking in the zone with some women and not very hot men smokers when 3 guys entered. A dad and 2 sons, roughly 40 for the dad and the sons 18 and 20 ish. It was definitely father and sons because they called him dad! My timing there was brilliant as they stepped through and all 3 had cigs in their mouths already and their dad lit them both up and then his self. What an amazing sight. I was on cloud nine. They had 2 each in their time in there and really were hot smokers. Not fetishers unfortunately. It reminded me of my first time i smoked with my dad and the amazing bond you get that he accepts you need that smoke, and even better when he lights you up, thats real acceptance!

The holiday also has its massive attractions as so many people smoke on holiday. And wow were there hot smokers on holiday. Guys who you couldnt believe were smokers! Obviously my intake was higher.

And finally on the way home in the car after the holiday me and my boyfriend stopped at the services and how i wished my bf wasnt with me at that time (he knows i get boned by smoking but not to the extent its at) as maybe it was in my head or a fantasy, but at 1am in the morning while i smoked outside in the rain waiting for the bf to use the loo a hot guy asked me for a light, and i mean hot! He then made small take about how misersble the weather was tonight and then my bf appeared. I was gutted, i had it in my head that he was a fetisher and i was going to have a new friend......

Best book another holiday

Videos In "gallery" Question

Sat, 25 Feb 2012 16:28:37 +0000

I see the videos section keeps shrinking. It was 80 pages now it's 60. Are the old videos archived somewhere or are they gone forever? There's some that used to be there that I loved to go back and watch

Dallas Fort Worth Smoking Tops?

Fri, 24 Feb 2012 18:42:47 +0000

Cigar and Marlboro men to the front of the line. Hungry mouth and nice ass that loves to serve smoker cock. Hit me up!

Invite To Join In The Neighborhood ...

Wed, 22 Feb 2012 18:52:44 +0000

on goin dialog of two boys spontaneous sharing early smoke experiences. i invite any of writers or readers to join in to the neighborhood.

my objective is get a bunch of guys posting in.

btw, the format on the Jeff boards is the oldest post is first and the newest post is last. Just the opposite of the Mikie boards ...

New to the Neighborhood - WANNA BE MY FRIEND?

http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=4614

See you there and bring your smokes ;@)

jeff

Ryan Gosling Video

Fri, 17 Feb 2012 18:12:30 +0000

Fucking hot close up of Ryan Gosling smoking...

Who Have You Started Smoking And How

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 21:36:38 +0000

For me, here no hotter reading than how guys got started smking. That's why I devote an entire section to SMOKE STARTS on my board.

However, having read the responses to the Smoke Fetish Survey, I find quite a few of you have gotten others started. For me, and I believe for others, it's even hotter when one of us gets other to light up.

Hence, this post. Please share how you got others started. Spare no details. Thanks, Jeff

The Shaping Of A Young Smoke Pig

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 07:44:04 +0000

Hi guys this is a story that has been floating around in my head for years. Some minor elements may have a similar tangent at the story “CAMPING WITH THE TEACHER” I hope not too close though. So elements are actually true but the ages of characters and most events are a work of pure fiction. I’m Australian so I hope the terminology brands etc transfers ok, if you need anything clarified just post and I’ll help out ok.

DISCLAIMER : This work is pure fiction in is in no way endorsed by the Winfield Tobacco Company. The story is designed to be read from the point of view of a 15 year old (We all know what it was like at 15 exploring our sexuality) it is in no way design to encourage Paedophilia. If the owner of this web site feels it is in breach of any laws please remove.

PART 1
The year is 1988 I was in grade 10 at high school.
I was fascinated by smoking at a young age my uncles smoked and I thought it was cool, I started high school at age 12 and use to watch the older guys light up while we were waiting for the bus. This went on for a few years every afternoon watching them smoke totally fixated watching the way they drew the smoke in and how they exhaled in all different ways, each guy had his own style I liked it best when they would use their nostrils instead of their mouth it was hot. One bloke in particular I liked the most, he used his nose to exhale more often than any other way, quite often he leave his smoke in the corner of his mouth as he talked to the smokers around him.

One lunchtime I left my bag in a classroom and went back the get it and found three guys smoking and playing cards in the room, I raced over to my bag grabbed it and began to hurry out when one said "what's my hurry", I stopped turned and looked it was the smoker I liked the most. I said nothing and after a moment he asked with "wanna join us", I wondered if he meant smoke or pay cards I had never done either before. "ok" I said and I grabbed a chair and sat down and they asked if I’d ever played poker before. I said "not really", they dealt me in and explained how to play we played all lunch while I watched them smoking I really stank at the game and I was actually hoping they’d ask me if I wanted a smoke, the guy opposite me kept winking at me and blowing smoke in my direction and I kept smiling as I didn't have a clue what he was getting at. The bell went and the other two got up and left and the guy that winked at me stayed a minute.
He said "hey meet me after school near the science block ok"
I said "But I’ll miss my bus and mum will be pissed if I do"
Where do u live?" he asked
"Maitland" I said
He said "that’s cool I live there too and can drive you home".
That arvo I met him and followed him to his car we talked a bit he introduced himself as brad (I never asked their names at lunch) while he lit a smoke and the car park cleared. "You ever tried smoking before?"
I said "no but I I’d like to, I like the smell of yours and I like the way he smoke."
He said "Cool we can go back to my place and you could try one if you liked dad won't be home from work for a few hours yet."
I said "cool, but I’ll have to call my mum."
"No worries, you call from my place if you like" he said
Back at his place we went to his room and he grabbed an ashtray and pulled out his Winfield reds from his shirt pocket and removed two smokes he gave me one and kept one himself. He placed his smoke into his mouth and lit it explaining how to drag etc.
He asked "are you ready to try mate?"
I said "yes" and placed my smoke into my mouth as he struck the lighter and lit it, I dragged in while he lit it just as he had explained.
He said "now remove the smoke and breathe in"
I did this and near coughed up a lung.
"You ok buddy?"
"Yeah I think so. Wasn't ready for that"
He said "Maybe we need to get your lungs use to a little light smoke first."
And with that he took a drag and then leant in towards me
"What are you doing? I said Quickly
"It’s ok I’m just going to blow smoke into your mouth so you get use to it a bit easier." he replied
I said "oh ok".
And with that he took another drag told me to open my mouth a bit and breathe out, and then he placed his lips on mine and blew smoke into my mouth for what felt like an eternity. He removed his mouth and a nice stream of smoke left my mouth and I thought this is fucking cool, and instantly got a boner. I tried to drag on my cigarette again; again I coughed but not as much. So he repeated blowing smoke into my mouth again but this time I felt his tongue enter my mouth as well, I Quickly pulled off him
He said "it ok",
I said "but you’re a man",
He replied with "mate I seen the way you were looking at me today, its ok I feel the same things"
And with that he put my hand on his dick which was rock hard
All I could say was "gee that’s big".
He said "I’ll show it to you next time if you like".
I said "cool", and with that took another drag and did not cough at all just two nice streams of smoke exited my nose copying what my older friend was doing.
He leant in and kissed me "see you got it". This time I kissed back.
We finished our smokes and he grabbed an empty pack off his side table and placed 2 cigarettes and a spare lighter in it and handed it to me and said "here one for tonight and one for before school tomorrow".
He also grabbed two magazines from his bottom draw and rolled em up put them in my bag and said homework for you. With that he lit two more cigarettes and passed one to me while we were smoking he encouraged me by saying you'll be smoking like me in no time. When we finished he grabbed a can of deodorant spray and hit my clothes with it saying we don’t want to get in trouble now, and handed me a mint. We jumped in his car and he took me near my home to drop me off and said see you tomorrow arvo same place ok.
I said “Ok brad, see you then, bye.”
Later that night after my brother was asleep (we shared a room) I got up and got the pack of ciggs and the mags out of my bag and went outside to our old cubby house with a torch. I took one of the smokes and ran it under my nose sniffing it before placing it between my lips I didn't light it but just let it dangle. I unrolled the first magazine it had the words Bareback Life written across the top I started to turn the pages my eyes opened wider and I got an instant boner the magazine was full of naked men the first bloke was lean and muscular I’d have guessed early 30's sporting a couple of tattoos and shoulder length hair and a huge dick, I kept turning the pages and there was just bloke after bloke until I got to the middle and there were 2 men this time with one guy bent over and the other guy behind him with what looked like his penis stuck up the butt of the first guy all I could think was ouch. But now my dick was rock hard so I pulled down my pants and wrapped my fist around my cock I grabbed the lighter and lit my smoke took a drag then breathed in, I coughed just a little so did it again this time I didn't cough, I was starting to like the taste and I think I knew then that these were the smokes for me. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have a dick up my butt so I removed my hand from my cock and licked my finger and push it into my hole, it hurt a little bit but I left it there and took another drag on my smoke, I felt my bum twitch and loosen on my finger so I started to move it in and out, I kept smoking and turning the pages they were full of pics of men fucking and sucking and 3 guys n four guys doing it, by then I let a second finger slide into my bum. When I got to the last page in the book I hit gold 2 guys fucking but one was dangling a smoke, I lost control and blew all over the magazine, I thought oh shit brad’s book what will I do I didn't have a towel or anything. I put out my smoke which was down to the filter picked up the magazine and licked up the cum I didn't go much for the taste. I picked up my magazines my smoke pack put on my pants and went back to bed.
My brother groaned "where did u go"
I said "the toilet"
He just mumbled "don't make so much noise"
I said "ok"
I went to sleep smelling my fingers on one hand the sweet smell of cigarette smoke, on the other my bum.
The next morning I couldn't wait to dump my little brother at primary school, so I left him at the corner and said "you can walk by yourself the rest of the way."
He thought it was cool being only 9yo.
After I left him I had 15mins before my bus so I walked up the road and entered the public toilets there were 2 cubicles and one was vacant I walked in closed the door. I was thinking I can't smoke while there was someone next door I’ll wait till he goes. So I pulled my smoke pack out of the bag and examined it for a minute feeling the embossed name on the front and back "Winfield" and the king size filter written below, on the side there was heaps of writing I only read the first couple of lines "16mg cpm tar or less" & "16mg nicotine" beats me what it meant, I’ll ask Brad I thought, as I was looking down I could see a reflection in the floor of something moving back and forwards rapidly. I bent down for a closer look, and I could see a small hole in the wall I looked through and could see a hand pulling a dick I put my eye up against the hold so I could see better there was a guy maybe 30-35 with a goatee in his shirt pocket I could see the outline of a smoke packet, I thought well he won’t mind if I smoke. I took out my one cigarette and lighter and placed the smoke between my lips, I flicked the lighter to life and bought it to the tip of my smoke, and then tasted the sweet smoke as it entered my mouth, as I did this I heard another lighter flick, I took my smoke out and put my eye back to the hole as I did so I seen the man next to me place his pack of Winfield blue back into his pocket as two thick nose jets left his lungs, I totally missed the fact that I didn't cough with my first drag. I watched as his hand went back to his cock as he removed his smoke from his mouth with his thumb and pointer finger, and thought fuck that's cool, what I didn't realise was I actually said it allowed.
The bloke replied with “ya think so?"
I didn't have a clue who he was talking too, but I quickly sat up and took another drag on my smoke.
Then I heard “How old are you boy?"
I didn't know what to do, I said "18 sir"
He said "show me"
I replied "How"
"Look under the wall" he said
I didn't do anything. Just then I noticed writing on the walls, things like 14/2/88 8:00am 35yo wants m on m sex. They were everywhere different dates different ages n times, I thought to myself have they always been here? How come I never noticed before?
I heard "its ok mate I won't hurt you."
With that I took another drag and got down on my knees and peeked under the wall while smoke spewed out of my mouth and nose.
"Fuck boy you'd be about 16 I reckon about my sons age." he said
“Yes sir I am" I replied
He asked "How long have you been smoking?"
"I I started yesterday." I stammered
"Cool, Cool, I wish my boy would but he fucking hates It." he stated sounding a little pissed.
“why don't you come in here" he asked, I hesitated. "It’s cool no one ever comes in here at this time of day." he said
"But I’ll miss my bus." I said nervously trying to opt out. Taking another drag on my smoke
You go to high school at east Maitland right? He asked
"Yeah" I replied
“I’ll drop you there just in time for class I’m heading that way myself." he said
With that I took the last drag on my smoke dropped it in the bowl grabbed my bag and went out a knocked on his door which opened up and I entered his cubicle.
"That’s better" he said
"Fuck you're a hot looking young man". He said with the last drag on his smoke before flicking it under the wall.
"Let me get a better look at you, turn around." he requested
I turned around slowly looking over my left shoulder at his hard dick sticking up between his legs, thinking about the picture from the magazine as his hand squeezed my but I jumped and yelped at the same time.
"It's ok; boy I’m not going to do anything to you that you won’t like and I won't hurt you."
I thought to myself yeah that’s true he has a boy my age. With that he asked me to turn back around. When I did he had two smokes between his lips and was just about to light them. I looked at my watch I had well and truly missed my bus it was 8:45.
"I'm gunna be late for school." I said
"It’s ok I’ll write you a note for your form teacher." he said as he passed me one of the 2 freshly lit smokes.
I accepted the smoke and took a drag, I needed to suck a little harder and it wasn't quite a smooth, I coughed a little, but recovered quickly.
He said" little different are they?
I said "yeah.”
What are yours? He asked.
I showed him my pack. he said "sweet I use to smoke them but my ex wife said I needed to cut back, so I stepped down to blue, fuck I should change back now I’ve rid myself of her"
And with that his free hand went back to his dick. He stroked it slowly making sure I could see it clearly as we smoked in silence for about a minute. Then he said " you ever had you cock sucked?"
I think my jaw dropped to the ground as I shook my head no.
"Would you like to?"
I nodded yes
With that he stuck his smoke in the corner of his mouth (which looked totally hot against his goatee) and motioned me closer. He put his hands on my hips and slid my pants down releasing my hard cut cock from its prison. He took his smoke out of his mouth and put his hand behind my head and pulled me in I resisted thinking he was going to push my mouth onto his cock, but instead our lips locked together and he exhaled smoke in mine just like Brad had done, though the feel of this guys goatee against my smooth skin felt great. By now I was feeling a little dizzy from the smoking I’ve done and the guy leaned into my cock and slipped it between his lips, fuck I was in heaven, I’d never felt anything like it I put my smoke into my mouth and put one hand on his head and moved my other hand towards my butt hole but before I could get a finger in I felt his hand at my hole pushing a finger in, it went in real easy and I wondered why. I touched his dick and it was all slippery, he opened his mouth and said "lube, I’ll get you some if u like, I sucked on my smoke and said "cool, I’m gunna squirt" and with that I shot my load in his mouth. He slurped as he pulled off.
I got all scared and said "I’ve got to go now"
He stood up and cuddled me his hard dick pushing into my chest (fuck he was tall) "its ok, its ok" he said as he kissed the top of my head and turned me around, he bent me forwards slightly and I could feel him move his dick into my crack. Moving it up n down but pressing in slightly when it passed my hole.
"Please don't sir" I begged
"It’s ok" he said "take another drag on your smoke"
"I've finished it" I said
“Do you want another?” He asked
“No not just yet” I replied
He pulled a small brown bottle from his pants pocket and said "here sniff this"
I opened the bottle and put in under my nose instantly I felt a rush like never before at that moment I felt a push from behind and I heard a deep moan from escape from the man whose dick was now deep in my arse, I felt a sharp pain but it dissipated quickly he kissed the back of my neck and I felt his smoke packet against my back, he started to rock and I felt his cock slide in and out a little, he asked "how’s that feel?"
"Ok" I said
"I'm not hurting you am I?" he asked
"It did at first" I said
"Take another sniff, and I’ll light us another smoke" he said
I replied with ok
I took another sniff from the little brown bottle as I heard the flick f the lighter I put the cap on and placed it in my top pocket as he passed me my smoke. As he did so I started to move on his dick enjoying the feeling.
He asked if I liked it and I said "yeah it feels good sir"
With that reply he started to slowly fuck me in and out picking up pace as smoke streamed from his nose in jets like a dragon. More frequent as his pace quickened. I stuck my smoke in the corner of my mouth and sucked in each time he pulled out and let a stream of smoke past my lips as he thrust in, as we were finishing our smokes he said in a deep grunt "I’m gunna cum, where do you want it?"
"What do you mean?" I asked
"Too late boy" and with that he shot a load deep inside with a grunt on each shot.
He pulled out and his dick had pink goo all over it.
“Looks like I tore you up a bit boy" he said as he grabbed handfuls of tissue and wiped my butt his cock.
“Let’s get dressed and head to school” he said.
I followed him out to his car, I looked at my watch it was near on 10am "fuck fuck I’m late" I said.
"It's ok mate as I said I’ll give you a note" he said.
we got to his car when I opened the door there was a strong smell of old smoke and about 20 empty packs of Winfield blue on the passenger floor we got in and drove off, after about 5 mins he pulled out his pack and offered me a smoke I took one but said " I definitely prefer the reds"
"Well next time that's what I’ll have, I’m David btw, but at school you'll call me Mr Jones when others are around ok?”
"What do you mean at school?" I said
"I teach year 11 & 12 science, you'll have me next year." he said
"But I haven't seen you before"
"I only transferred from Sydney last month to get away from my ex and my kid" he said
"Your kid?"
"Yeah my kid, I can't stand what my ex wife turned him into, by the way I live alone and you are welcome to come over anytime"
"I'm Peter" I said
“Nice to meet you Peter, nice arse you have boy, hope I can use it again soon." he said as he shot two huge jets of smoke from his nose
"I think I’d like that David." I said as I imitated his smoke jets
"Oh by the way who introduced you to smoking? He asked
"Brad, he's in year 12 Short light brown hair, both ears pierced, very hot." I answered
"Ah yeah I know him, we've fucked a couple of times now, hot smoker, can see why you like the reds boy just wait till you ride his cock, I’m sure he's planning on that, when are you seeing him next?" David asked
"I'm suppose to meet him after school today but I don't think I’m ready to be fucked again just yet" I replied
"Its ok boy, I’ll have a word to him after classes today" David said
"Don't tell him..."
"It's ok Pete, leave it to me." David said sucking down the last of his smoke with what looked like a cheeky grin on his face as we pulled into the teacher’s parking lot.
David quickly scribbled a note on an envelope off his car floor, and said if there were any issues to speak to him and he'll sort it. And with that we parted ways....for now.

END OF PART 1

Smoker's Rights?

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 01:07:05 +0000

I'm wondering if anyone here actively participates in the smoker's rights movement. It's a movement that seeks to win back our right to smoke in bars and restaurants, and that seeks to let business owners determine smoking/ nonsmoking policies for themselves. In general, those in the movement also seek to scale back high cigarette taxes. The movement has a lot of variations at international, national and local levels, and it's exemplified by sites like www.forces.org etc.

If anyone here is involved in the movement, it would be interesting to hear your story.

Smoke Meet Manchester Area

Sun, 12 Feb 2012 15:53:11 +0000

looking for guys for smoke meets in manchester area

Dangling

Sun, 12 Feb 2012 01:31:57 +0000

Does anyone here dangle cigarettes on a regular basis? The kind of guy who prefers to smoke that way and will dangle from lighting right down till the cig is finished - perhaps each cigarette smoked? Keen to learn here and would love to chat to a guy who smokes this way.

South Carolina Pig Bottom Loves Cigar Men

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 13:52:07 +0000

i am a bottom in charleston sc area. I love men who smoke cigars. I want to meet top men who smoke cigars. I love to have top men smoke their cigars as i suck their cocks and as they fuck me.. even more if they are into leather and are bikers is cool also.

thre is something about a cigar smoking top man making me his bottom i really get turned on .

let me have your cocks as you smoke your cigars......

pipes cool also but not really into cigaretts

...PIG...

Attached Thumbnails

Sf Bear Weekend Feb -18

Wed, 08 Feb 2012 05:10:17 +0000

Any smokin men gonna be there?

Smoke Fetish In Hampton Roads, Va

Wed, 08 Feb 2012 00:09:02 +0000

Hey smokinmen!

Kinky submissive smoke fetish boy here hoping to find someone to play with locally. Into leather and rubber (or any kind of gear really) gloves, gasmasks, and anything/everything to do with smoke (cigars and reds). I'm open to making long-distance friends too. Feel free to hit me up, sub_zero_601@yahoo.com

~Mike

Hook Up In Belfast

Tue, 07 Feb 2012 09:36:47 +0000

Would there be any guys interested in a smoky session in Belfast?

Miami, Fl

Sun, 05 Feb 2012 17:52:47 +0000

Hey Smokers!

I am thinking of moving to Miami in a few months. What are the best neighborhoods to live in? Are there any areas that are more gay friendly than others? I would potentially be working in Miami Gardens.

Any advice would be much appreciated!

Seeking Advice

Sat, 04 Feb 2012 19:34:52 +0000

My cousin, same age as me (26) came to me last night over dinner with a problem. I really don't have much I can offer him other than the usual. His problem is that he has been smoking off and on since he was about 16 (I didn't know this until he asked for a cigarette a few years ago). His parents are non smokers and he lives at home with them. In fact they are very anti smoking. Nobody is allowed to smoke in their home (understandable) and so he is not sure how they would take it that he smokes. He smokes a few cigarettes every now and again maybe 3 or 4 a week and has been sneaking out to his garage or in the car on the way to work and says he is careful to cover up the smell and brush his teeth regularly.

Now I have been smoking since I was 9 started regularly at 11 and my parents knew by that time and didn't really give me a hard time about it.

I think he is trying to get up the nerve to tell them that he smokes but is unsure of how that will change his relationship with his dad whom he is very close to. I know he buys cigarettes sometimes and he tells me he always uses cash to keep the paper trail covered up from his parents (apparently they check his credit card statements).

I know he is 26 but I think he is scared to death about them finding out but at the same time as he told me he is envious of my freedom to smoke wherever and whenever I want. I wish I could help him out more but like I said previously I had it easy when I told my folks.

Any help is appreciated as I will be meeting him for dinner again this week. Until then I told him to keep walking the dog around the block at night.

Smoke Fun In Montreal Feb 12-18

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 03:58:11 +0000

I am traveling to Montreal for work Feb 12-18. Hit me up if you want to get together for some smoke fun.

Smoke Fetish Survey

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 00:29:16 +0000

Do you smoke when you visit this website:

Age had first cig:

Age became a smoker:

Age Now:

Age you discovered smoking/stroking:

How often do you smoke/stroke:

What's your favorite place to smoke/stroke:

Favorite time(s) of day to smoke/stroke:

What brand you smoke:

What is your ppd:

Do other's comment about how much you smoke:

Did your smoking change after discovering this website:

Do you smoke down to butt or leave long butts:

Do you smoke in your bedroom:

Have you gotten others to start smoking: [who?]

Do you have any smoking skills [rings, snaps, fr. inhales, DLI]:

If yes, how long did it take to achieve success:

Are you open to others pumping up your ppd:

Favorite cig of day and where and when you smoke it:

Your ultimate smoke fantasy[ies]:

Traveling In Sw Virginia, Eastern Tn And The Far Nw Corner Of Ga

Sun, 29 Jan 2012 11:28:05 +0000

Any smoker want some company today on my trip down Routes 81, 40, 75 and 24 today? SW VA, eastern TN and the extreme NW of GA.....

Had A Bit Of Fun...

Sun, 29 Jan 2012 03:17:22 +0000

Hi everyone. As a few of you who spoke to me on the chat already know, I'm not a smoker (yet?)...
However, this smoking fetish of mine didn't seem to be going away... ( I'd tried ignoring it, and I think that made it worse!)
So a week or two ago I bought a pack of Marlboro Golds. (Everyone seems to love Marlboro?) I wasn't sure if I should smoke any or not, but today I was feeling horny and had some home alone time. I went outside, out of view and stripped off (didn't want my clothes smelling of smoke), but decided to combine smoking with my other huge fetish; diapers. So I sat wearing nothing but a diaper and lit up for some fun.
It didn't take long before I was as hard as a rock, was strokesmoking, and ashing in and on my diaper. I inhaled a few times, but mainly played around. It felt weird but kinda cool I guess.
I think I now understand what people are talking about when they talk about.. is it 'fullness' or something along those lines? That was probably from the smoke in my lungs.
While smoking I felt kind of shaky, not sure if that was from being nervous or something from smoking.
By the time I was done, I'd 'smoked' three cigarettes, but probably only inhaled about 6 times during those three.
It was fun, and I think I'll do it again; maybe only when I'm horny though, not sure yet.
Any words of encouragement (or discouragement?) would be appreciated. Thanks. :3

Any Dfw Cigar Men?

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 16:21:08 +0000

If you smoke cigars I wanna hear from you.. Big ringed +

Cartons, Packs, And Addiction

Fri, 27 Jan 2012 02:27:34 +0000

I bought a carton today. I usually buy one pack at a time, though I have purchased cartons before. When I get a carton, a part of me thinks it's hot because it confirms my addiction, the reality that I'm not planning to quit any time soon.

So, I was wondering whether anyone else feels this way.

And a related question: How did it feel when you got your first carton (assuming that most guys start out getting one pack at a time)?

Martinez Bazuka 105/125

Thu, 26 Jan 2012 07:48:12 +0000

Hi all

I want to buy a couple of Martinez Bazuka 105/125...

I live in the UK and shipping charge from Martinez is $36....Makes it an expensive smoke !

In return for the correct $ (to cover purchase and frieght charges to the UK) can any member of forum help me out

Thanks

Miami Cigar/pipe Man

Sun, 22 Jan 2012 00:39:26 +0000

Masculine series pipe smoker. Love cigars too. Looking for smokey encounter while in town on busines.
Will also be in Ft. Lauderdale later this week. 50's, bearded,bald,hairy, told many times I look like i was born to have a cigar in my jaw. Wanna see if it's true?

Red Head Smoker

Sat, 21 Jan 2012 01:34:10 +0000

ok has anyone noticed that more offten or not red heads are smokers. dont know what about haveing red hair makes them more inclined to smoke, but iv notice almsot every red head i know is a smoker
anyone else notice this?

My Smokin Start

Fri, 20 Jan 2012 03:52:01 +0000

Hey guys, thought I would share with you my early smoking experiences. It is a true story but its long so I will send it in a few parts.
For as long as I can remember I have always loved to stare at hot dudes taking long drags off their smokes and watching as some of the smoke slowly exits their nose and mouth. From the time I was seven I knew I was to become a smoker and a good one at that.

I remember having my first smoke. I was seven years old and lived on a small street and knew everyone. There was a large family across the street that had at least five boys and six girls. The guys were all in their mid teens except Rick (same name is just a coincidence). Rick was nine and was always close to his older brothers. He was always trying to be like them. His older brothers were all regular smokers and proud of it. Their parents knew and said they didn't give a shit as long as they didn't steal their smokes.

One day in the middle of summer I remember Rick calling me to come over and meet him in his backyard. I ran over to see what was up. He was sitting on the bench and reached into his pocket and pulled out a Players filter. He said he had asked his brother Jim for one. It wasn't fair; he was the only guy in his place not to smoke. He asked if I wanted to join him? I jumped at the chance.

I often found myself looking at Rick's brothers as they sucked on a smoke, wishing I could be just like them. Rick reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a box of matches he had snitched from the kitchen. I remember being so excited that I was about to start smoking my first cigarette. Rick was shaking as he struck the match. He tried lighting it but couldn't. I quickly grabbed the smoke from his mouth and told him to light me up. He did and I took my first drag.

I remember my eyes watering and my choking and as I took another drag the same thing happened. Rick wanted to try and likewise he started coughing. At that moment Jim came by and started laughing. He called us whimps and pussy boys for not taking it like a man. I couldn't help but wonder how he enjoyed his first smoke. After all, he was only fifteen and had only been smoking regularly for a year. He gave us another smoke and told us to try again. He said it would get better the more we tried it.

Someday, he said, we wonder how we ever lived without them. From then one I decided I wanted to be a real mans smoker. There was something about the image that made me excited, but it would be a few years till I realized what it was doing for me.

For the next two years I often met Rick at his place where we would often have a smoke or two before and after school. Rick's brother Jim had given us smokes as did his other brothers. Soon they began to tell us it was time for us to pay for our own smokes.

I had a paper route, which gave me enough money to spend the way I wanted. I soon had Jim buying us smokes every week. Man I couldn't believe it. Here I was 9/10 years old and looking hot as a smoker.

Rick and I often hung around together and went everywhere together. I was looking like a regular smoker more and more as I kept my smokes and lighter in my shirt pocket whenever we went downtown, to the movies etc. My smokes and me just seemed to go together naturally. I was hooked and I knew it. I loved standing in front of a mirror watching myself reach in and pull my smokes out. Opening the pack and pulling out a cigarette and placing it in my mouth I felt a tingle in my pants even then as I watched myself inhale as the cigarette dangled from my lips. It would be a few years before I would figure out what caused that tingle between my legs.

I couldn't wait to get out of the house in the morning to deliver papers and have that first drag of the day. My parents still didn't figure it out but I knew the time was coming when they would find out. It was in September that I finally decided to come out of the closet as a smoker and tough shit if anyone gave a damn. I was running late and smoke dangling, headed to school as quickly as I could. It was a warm day so I didn't have a jacket on. I got to School on time. That morning we were to spend on projects. It was grade six and they wanted us to spend more time working in groups.

Our group was to tell the class of our report. It was Greek lifestyles (how ironic). I had just finished speaking when Mr. Findlay walked over to me. I thought he was going to ask me a question on the report. Instead he reached into my shirt pocket and pulled its contents out. He said, "what's this?" I remember thinking that he must be from another planet to not know what a pack of Players King's looked like. It was then that I realized I had not removed them from my shirt and put them in my coat as I had always done.

I was quick to respond, "They're my smokes. What do you think they are?" I couldn't get over his response. He put the pack back in my shirt pocket and said, "You guys are starting even younger than I did." From that day on he never said a word, and I was always seen at school packing my smokes in my shirt pocket. I also couldn't help but notice that after that event Mr. Findlay was often seen with a pack of DuMaurier in his shirt pocket.

A few weeks later I knew it was a matter of time before my family would find out. I was up to ¾ a pack a day during the week and a pack during the weekend. The time had come for me to tell my parents that I was a fulltime smoker and fucking proud of it (ok not in those words).

It was a Monday night and it had been raining heavy all day. I knew I would be hard pressed to find a reason to go out for a smoke. Rick and his family had gone away so I couldn't go there. Mom was a non-smoker, but Dad was a heavy smoker. He smoked about 2 packs a day of Export Plains. He was a typical man's man. Like me he always kept his smokes in his shirt pocket so they were always handy. He's rarely seen with out one dangling from his brown lips.

That night I walked into the house and took off my leather jacket and hung it up. I walked through the house to let them know I was home. We talked a bit and I went to my room. I couldn't believe it. Here I was standing in there, my shirt pocket showing off a pack of Players and not a word was said. And here I was Fucking worried about their reaction. They had made no bones about not wanting me to smoke like those awful brothers of Rick O'Reilly.

A few moments later Mom called us to dinner. As I got close to the table I had to bend over to tie my shoe. It was then that the shit hit the fan. Dad in his hoarse smoker's voice said, "What's with the smokes boy?" It was now or never. I quickly responded that they were mine. I wanted to be a real smoker. I've been smoking for over 3 years now. The rest of the night seemed an eternity. Mom yelling and screaming at me of the dangers etc. Me defending my decision to be smoker. Eventually I was sent to my room.

It was then that for the first time I decided to smoke in my own room with my parents in the house. I opened the window and pulled out an old ashtray I had stashed away. I lay there taking some deep drags and desperately trying not to let any of that wonderful smoke escape my body. I remember thinking of how lucky I was to have remembered to have Jim buy me a carton of smokes before he left. They were to be gone for a few days and I knew I couldn't go without.

For the next few weeks it was pretty quiet around our place. Whenever Mom saw me walking around the house packing my smokes in my shirt she just shook her head and cried. Dad was also quiet and not himself. The guys across the street hadn't been around much either. Something about a sick relative. It was getting harder for me to get smokes. The owner of the local store refused to sell to us "minors". The only break was when Gus was away, he left his 16-year-old son in charge. I don't remember his son's name but I do remember the first time I asked him for a pack of Players filter. I took my chances. I was in the store and noticed a nicely squared pack of something in his denim shirt. I was sure hoping it was what I thought it was. Sure enough when I asked him for a pack of Players, he smiled and as he bent over to get them I could tell it was a pack of Players Kings in his shirt. I quickly picked up the smokes before anyone came in and put them in my pocket. I think it was probably the first time I had ever managed to get two packs stuffed in my pocket. Today it feels really strange if I don't have two packs stuffed in them.

A few weeks after having the arguments with my parents over my smoking I noticed a sudden change in Dads reaction. It was a Saturday morning and I was down to my last smoke. I was in trouble. Dad wanted me to go out with him that morning and give him a hand at work. In those days I wasn't able to go more than a couple of hours without a smoke. Man was this going to be tough. I got changed and we headed out. The first stop was a local store. We went in and walked up to the counter, were Dad asked for three packs of Export Plan King size. Man was I jealous, here he was ordering cigarettes and was going to smoke them in front of me. How cruel could he be?

What shocked me was that he picked up two of the packs and put them in his shirt pocket. He then picked up the third and reached over and put the pack in my pocket. Still stunned I followed him out of the store where he lit up a smoke and offered the pack to me to have one. Having been desperate for another smoke I quickly took one. I must have looked puzzled cause Dad said " I could tell you were without son as it's the first time I haven't seen you with a pack in your shirt. Knew you must be craving bad. But if you're going to smoke like a real man make sure it's a mans brand"

Dad's brand was Export Plain King size and he wanted that to be my brand too. It was the strongest brand around he said and that's what I wanted. I smoked them for many years till Export Plains King size seemed to disappear one night. Now all they make is Export Plain regulars. Today I smoke Export A KINGS Filters (3.5-4ppd). Love the look of a king size pack in my shirts but they also give me more smoke time.

I still buy export plains and switch when I need that extra hit that a filtered smoke doesn't give. Neither Dad, nor mom for that matter ever discussed my smoking again. I was 10 years old and a fulltime smoker. It was a few years later when I would realized what smoking would do for my soon to be discovered sex life.

Menthols Not Better Or Worse Than Any Other Cigarette

Thu, 19 Jan 2012 12:34:33 +0000

As required under the provisions of the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act (the law which granted the FDA the authority to regulate cigarettes, roll-your-own tobacco and smokeless tobacco), the FDA's Tobacco Products Scientific Advisory Committee (TPSAC) studied the use of menthol in cigarettes and issued a report and set of recommendations on March 18, 2011.
The TPSAC report contained numerous conclusions, and several of the most significant conclusions are as follows:
(1) The evidence does not indicate increased disease risks in smokers of menthol cigarettes compared to non-menthol cigarettes.
(2) The availability of menthol cigarettes has led to an increase in the number of smokers and that this increase does have an adverse public health impact in the United States.
(3) The removal of menthol cigarettes from the marketplace would benefit the public health in the United States.
(4) A potential exists for contraband menthol cigarettes if the FDA chooses to implement a ban or take some other policy action that restricts the availability of menthol cigarettes, and the FDA would need to assess the potential for contraband menthol cigarettes if such action is contemplated.
In response to the TPSAC report, tobacco industry manufacturers and the three non-voting industry members of TPSAC compiled an industry viewpoint report. The industry's report stated, in part, that the scientific data demonstrates no difference in disease, initiation, cessation or dependence between menthol and non-menthol cigarettes, there is no scientific basis to support the regulation of menthol cigarettes any differently than non-menthol cigarettes and that a ban on menthol cigarettes would result in a dramatically larger illegal cigarette market than currently.
While the FDA has conducted an initial review of the TPSAC and industry reports, the agency has not taken any official action. Under the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act, there is no timetable or requirement that the FDA adopt any regulations regarding menthol in cigarettes.
Interesting article. Some might be disappointed, others are probably relieved.

Aftermath

Tue, 17 Jan 2012 21:09:31 +0000

I've just started reading a book with this title and somehow the idea for this story came to me complete. Another twisted piece of schoolboy mind control smoke abuse.

Simon's Story:

If I hadn't have stayed late working on that mathematics assignment things might have been different.

I wouldn't have been in a rush to get my bus, wouldn't have tried a short cut, wouldn't have run into Daryl and his mates. 'Cos I certainly wouldn't have gone looking for them. I suppose he had a certain animal charm as far as looks went but he was a grade A cunt.

What, you think a nice boy like me wouldn't use words like that? Unlike most I'm hoping to get out of this place with some kind of an education. I use words properly, and 'cunt' is precisely the correct word to describe a pretentious bully like Daryl Watson. Most would agree, at least when Daryl and his mates weren't around. Few received the unrelenting attention that I did though. Of course I was an easy target, only gay boy in the school. Only OUT gay boy that is. I know of a few others. Not surprised they're keeping their heads down. The school has been pathetic about it. Took my parents going ballistic at the headmaster not just in his office but in public at a parent's evening, before they did anything. Meanwhile I'm learning Taekwondo because, though he can't get away with beating me up in public any more, I really didn't want to meet him in a dark alley. I had a feeling he might get nasty.

So I should have been on the look out. And OK, it wasn't a dark alley. It was that scummy, tarmacked area behind the canteen where the big wheelie bins are. Only about four feet between the windowless wall and the railings. There was only three of them but if they wanted to make it difficult there's no way I could get past. And I'd come too far for it not to be obvious if I tried to run away. Also I hate running away. Promised myself I wasn't going to do it any more. So I took a deep breath and made to just walk purposefully past.

I was pretty sure they'd seen me. Though they were all wearing shades. The dicks. Smiling in a nasty way too.
“Here, gay boy. Come and have a look at this.”
“Not now Daryl.”
“Now that's not friendly. I just thought a science geek like you would be interested in this.”
They'd got a big aluminium tray out of the canteen on the floor. Just as I got up to them Daryl set this top spinning. Looked like it was crystal. Maybe a couple of inches in diameter. It really caught the light, I'm not sure how. I paused to look. Where were all those bright reds and blues coming from. Maybe a low beam of sunlight coming through a gap in the cloud. I thought I'd see but I didn't want to look away. Those bright colours running in circles. Some one way, some opposite. How?? It was beautiful. The sound it made on the tray seemed to run in circles too. Kind of like a reverse synaesthesia. Daryl was mumbling something at me but I didn't pay attention. Just watched the lights till finally the top tumbled to a halt. Shaking my head slightly I got up. I didn't remember kneeling for a closer look.
“Interesting, eh?” He seemed to be being fairly pleasant but I didn't trust that.
“Yeah, can I have a closer look?”
“Later maybe.” he said as he snatched up the crystal top. I don't know why they sniggered about that. Idiots.
“Can't wait.” I said, “Well, if you don't mind.”
I knew I should be getting on.
“Oh, don't go Simon.” Daryl said, still being mock friendly. “We were just going to have a fag. Won't you join us?”
Oh right, I thought, this is it. Everyone knew I thought smoking was for idiots. It was just another wind up. I decided to take the wind out of their sails.
“Sure, why not.”
Of course I hadn't ever smoked but I figured I could bluff my way through it. I knew the more I seemed at ease with it the less fun it would be for them.

So that's how I came to have my first cigarette. Even I knew Lambert & Butler was a real chav's cigarette. As I took one I noticed the holographic sunburst on the silver pack. Put me in mind a little of Daryl's crystal spinning top, which was oddly disturbing. Believe it or not I'd never even touched a cigarette before. It was lighter than I expected. Weirdly there was something kind of sexually exciting about holding it. It felt tightly packed and that put me in mind for an instant of how my dick feels when it's really hard and quivers a bit as it stands up. I tried to put that out of my mind and concentrated on looking like I knew what I was doing holding the thing. Actually it felt quite good in my hand and I realised these were designed to be held. To be smoked.

Then the moment of truth. Daryl himself held up his lighter to the end of my cigarette. I can't be totally sure but for an instant I got the feeling he was getting a kick out of this. Like sexual – urgh – I didn't even want to go there. Anyway there was lighting this cigarette to get through. Watching the flame I suppose I went a bit cross eyed, it touched, not much happened, then I remembered to suck. I don't know what I expected but the taste was really intense. You know that first, unguarded thought you have. Mine was, that's nice – yeah, I was a little shocked at myself – certainly it was nothing like the horrible smell of second-hand smoke. The end finally glowed into life and I sucked in a mouthful. I only held it for a second before blowing it out again. To be truthful I felt a kind of childish satisfaction at that. Of course I'd never want to be a smoker, stupidly addicted to the things, but there was a kind of rebellious satisfaction to it.

“Fuck Simon, don't smoke it like a girl. Inhale. Like this.”

Daryl's cheeks hollowed as he dragged on his fag, let me see his big mouthful of smoke before he sucked it in with a hiss then produced a thick exhale that made mine look pretty pathetic.

Of course, this was the real challenge. They'd get some thrill out of getting me to foul my lungs up with toxic smoke. Probably wanted me to cough my guts up. I'd show them. If I could. So I took a good drag. Not like Daryl of course, but as much as I could comfortably take, pulled the cigarette away from my mouth and gave it half a second before I inhaled. It went down amazingly easily, no coughing though I could feel my eyes on the edge of watering. Then I exhaled, seeing a decent stream of smoke come out. An instant later I forgot about that as I got this most amazing heady feeling. Idiot it thought. I knew it was a drug, but I'd never imagined the feeling would be as powerful as that. They all seemed quite impressed, though I still didn't see what was so funny about it.

The really weird fact – one I wasn't about to admit to them – was that I actually liked it. I'd had no idea whether I would really be able to bluff it out with them but it turned out smoking was easy. Obviously I was watching them, copying, putting on a good act. It amazed me but they could actually talk about smoking. About the hit – I knew what that meant, at first the smoke felt like something solid in my lungs – snaps, that was that kind of inhale that Daryl had shown me – and they wanted to see if I got a good buzz, whatever that was. Anyway, it was no hardship. I think I was coming under the influence too. As I carried on smoking I got more light headed, then dizzy and then, with the final drag it was like there was a buzzing filling my head. So that's what a buzz is. It felt good. Really I was as out of it as if I was drunk. Only a lot more in control. I decided I wouldn't mind doing it again. Smoking, that is. And it's sign of how out of it I was that that thought didn't worry me one bit.

Then it was over. At a nod from Daryl the other two left.
“Thanks for that.” I said, suddently I didn't feel so safe, “I really better be going now.”
“Don't you want another look at the top?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Before I could touch it he'd set it spinning again. Dizzy as I was I almost felt like I was falling into it, into those spinning lights, the scratchy drumming sound echoing in my head. It think Daryl was saying something but it seemed so distant... Too soon the top fell with a rattle onto the tray. Again he snatched it up. But I really was feeling quite dizzy now.
“What?” I said to Daryl, “Were you saying something.”
“Hadn't you better be going.”
“Er, oh yeah, Shit and fuck, my bus.”
I legged it, Daryl calling after me, “See you later.”
Not if I can help it, I thought.

DARYL'S STORY:

Just to get it straight – hah – no way am I giving you my story. This is just my comments about HIS story. There is no way you or any other fucker gets to know where I got the spinning top from. It's enough for you to know what it does. And I'm sure you've guessed. I'd say it hypnotises, but its something a bit more powerful than that. Puts you under instantly and leaves you open to complete control. The best bit is you never know it's happening. HE doesn't even know he's emailling me the story from his point of view. Pretty twisted huh? And you like that kind of shit, don't you. Which is why I thought I'd fill you in on this side. Then you can get a wee little taste of what the power feels like. Get off on that, don't you. Bet you're sitting there right now, stroking your dick, thinking how good it'd be to do that to HIM. You have no fucking idea.
And, of course, if I'd ever used my little spinning top on you do you think you'd have any idea about that either.
But don't worry about it. Stroke your dick if you want. Pretend you could be the one with the real balls.
So, now to fill you in on what happened. Just so you know. I'd been showing the top to Gazzer and Deano. Not two of the brightest, so they wouldn't have figured I might have used it on them. Of course they didn't believe it. And then the shirt lifter turns up. Quick as anything I say, lets have some fun with him. So they ask what are you going to do. Make him have a smoke with us. No way, they say. Fucking pansy won't do that. Whatch and learn my friends I say. We've got our shades on so we're safe. I won't tell you how long it was till I figured that one out. Of course, soon as he glances at it he's caught. I don't want them hearing my patter so I just whisper into his ear. 'You're going to have a smoke with us. You'll think you're being really clever about it but you're going to really like it. That smoke's going to feel so good you're going to get hooked. Soon as you can you're going to start smoking.'
Pretty rushed but, hey, I was making it up on the hoof.
And of course it worked like a charm. To see that look on his face. He thinks he's outsmarting us. Then he takes a drag and you can see it working on him. Fucking gave me a boner. You know, the power of it. So I enjoy my fag, the lads think they're in on it. A real laugh. I'm wondering how far I can go with it. Marshal my thoughts. Then I send the others packing and add a few twists. Lets see if you can guess what they are.

SIMON'S STORY:

Of course I'd missed my bus. Had to walk the mile into town and get one at the bus station. I texted home, let them know I'd be late. As it turned out I didn't mind too much. I felt like I was walking on air. I'd never guessed smoking would feel so good. I'd been so uptight with all the extra school work I was doing. Suddenly I felt completely relaxed for the first time in ages. I was whistling as I strolled along. Feeling good. Kind of horny too. At least I was noticing guys. One or two were smoking. For the first time I felt just a little envious, knowing now what they must be feeling. I decided maybe I would smoke again sometime. It'd do me good to just forget everything like this from time to time. Of course no way was I going to get hooked. It's just it'd be a really good way to unwind sometimes and I really needed that. Why shouldn't I smoke sometimes, if I wanted to. And if I'm honest with myself I did want to. Why not when I'd liked it so much. Plus the thought of having another cigarette was kind of exciting. Liberating in a way. I could see myself getting some cigarettes, having a smoke. Why not. Fuck 'em. Do something I like for a change.

Which I guess tells you something about the way addictive drugs work on your mind. Because, without meaning to when I set out, by the time I reached the bus station first thing I did was go into the newsagent bit and buy ten Lambert & Butler and a lighter. All quite legal, I'd turned eighteen a few weeks before. Then I checked my buses. A twenty minute wait. What was I going to do. Have a smoke? Well, I certainly couldn't when I got home. And I had bought them, what else was I going to do with them? I went out of the far doors, found a fairly quiet spot. Feeling oddly nervous I peeled off the cellophane, pulled out the little bit of silver paper. It wasn't easy getting a cigarette out but when I had it felt good in my hand and I was quite excited to light up. I did, inhaling, loving the reminder of that taste, feeling the drug soothe my nerves. Of course it felt wrong, but it felt really right too. OK, might as well admit it. I don't know what it was but something about it gave me a stiffie. A good one. I took another drag and got the fanciful notion that as I sucked smoke in it was pumping up my dick. It was distracting. I was still learning how to smoke really, though I was getting better at it. Getting a feel for how to inhale so that, after a few tries, it was completely comfortable. More than could be said for my dick. Its kind of embarrassing but I decided if finished my cig quickly I'd have time to get a quick one off in the bus station toilet, which I did. Just. Had to leg it to get my bus. Not a bad thing. No one would know I was already flushed and breathless. You can never tell about wanks can you, sometimes it's just a wank and sometimes... lets just say it's a good job I remembered to point my dick away at the last minute or the jizz would have gone all over my face rather than all over the cubicle walls. I would've cleared up but I really did have to run. I suppose they've seen worse. Of course the bus passengers had no idea what I was giggling about.

Mum commented on how cheerful I seemed. Whoops. I mean, I know its nothing much, couple of cigarettes and a wank in the bus station. But she'd hardly understand. Which is why teenagers have secrets. One of mine was now a packet of cigarettes. Where was I to hide that. With my porn, of course. I know some people have a porn collection. I have two well thumbed copies of QX.

I did about an hours homework before dinner to restore my virtue. Joking. Then back to my room. A bit more work. About half seven, quarter to eight I found my thoughts drifting towards those cigarettes again. It'd be good to unwind. Plus, if you can remember what teenage hormones are like, having a really good wank just makes you want another. Without meaning to I found myself formulating some kind of plan that involved smoking and some spot out in the park private enough for a wank. I was shocked at myself. More shocked at my dick, which clearly liked the idea.

Best go for a run, forget about it. A run. I realised it was the idea cover. Pity most of my running gear was a little too tight to hide even ten cigarettes and a lighter. Most, not all. More obvious, it felt, was my semi. Didn't go down as I ran either. So I headed straight to the park. No way did I want to get caught smoking but there was a very secluded area behind the disused toilet block. People said there was cruising there but I'd never seen any evidence. I don't know if you've ever found yourself in the grip of one of these mad ideas but you hurry. I really opened my stride, checked my watch and it was just eight o'clock as I got into the park. There was hardly anyone round as it was getting toward dusk. I slowed to a jog, checking the coast was clear before slipping through the bushes and into the can strewn area under some conifers and bounded by the toilet block wall.

I squatted with my back to the wall for a moment, breathing deeply, and got my cigarettes out. Sex is really weird, isn't it. I mean, why would I rub the cigarette packet over my shorts to feel it against my dick, feel my dick get hard. Oh yeah, that'd be why.

I stood, put a cigarette to my lips, slipped a hand into my shorts. This was madness. Absolute fucking madness. But fuck, it was exciting. I started working my dick in my shorts. I was going to do this thing but my dick wasn't coming out till the very last minute. Which judging from how I was feeling wouldn't be that long. Time for a smoke. I lit up and inhaled, still stroking my dick. Oh god, that felt good. I tilted my head back and exhaled. I inhaled again, slow and deep and really got to work on my dick. I began to feel that light-headed rush, began to feel my nuts coming to the boil. I took a quicker drag, a snap, pulling the smoke in so quick it hurt. But it felt good. I was nearly there. I dropped my pants, took another drag and there was a flash.
“Hello Simon. Enjoying ourselves are we?”
“Daryl. You fucking toad.”
“Now, now. That's not friendly.” he said, lighting a cigarette. I stood transfixed as he came up to me, exhaled the smoke right in my face. My dick, the traitor, stood rigidly to attention. “I think you'd want to make sure you remain my friend. Could be embarrassing if any compromising photo got out.”
“What do you want, Watson?”
“Oh, I think you might be able to come up with something. If you use a little imagination.”
I thought I was beginning to get his drift. If only he wouldn't keep distracting me, blowing smoke in my face. I was conscious again of the cigarette in my hand, the warmth of its smoke rising over my fingers. I brought it up, dragging deep to calm myself.
“Hmm, you seem to be getting better at sucking. Want to show me how good you are?”
“What the fuck are you talking about.”
“Oh, don't be dense Simon. I think you know full well. And if you make it good, who knows, pictures can get... deleted.”
“You want me to...”
“Come on Simon, don't be shy. Say it.”
“You want me to give you...” he stared, urging me on, “a blow job.”
“Not as thick as you look. Now go on, do your best.” his hand on my shoulder pushed me to my knees. I didn't seem to have any will, I just started opening his flies.
“And Simon,” I looked up, “No teeth.”
That should have given me an idea but there was no fight in me. I pushed his jeans down a little way, then his boxers. He wasn't even hard. Or clean.
“Hands behind your back now and show me what you can do.”
It wasn't easy. Especially at first. Hard to get my lips on the soft flesh. Soon though he began to get hard. He was quite big. Not too much but... a stretch. Uncomfortable on my jaw. He was a twisted bastard. Felt like he knew how much I'd longed to suck a cock. Though his was the last on earth I would have chosen. Eventually I could feel he was really hard, he started to make small noises of pleasure. I realised fully where this was going. It was hateful to think of him cumming in my mouth, but that was the only way to end this. He grabbed my hair. I thought he was going to start fucking my face but he tipped my head back. Put his cigarette to my mouth. In spite of myself I dragged, inhaled. Even in that awful situation the nicotine flowing into my brain felt good. Bizarrely my dick started to get hard again. His hand didn't let go and he did start forcing himself into my mouth, making me gag. Making me feel his pleasure. He lit another cigarette, fed it to me again. More face fucking. More smoking. And then he was done. He didn't cum in my mouth. He came all over my face.
“Suck it clean.”
I didn't have much choice. I'd seen this before on porn. In real life I felt used and then... another flash.
“You fucking bastard.”
“Hmm.” he said, casually tucking himself in, “And you're a fucking cock-sucker.”
“Yeah, your cock. What does that make you?”
“In charge.”
He'd gone and I hadn't said a word about the photos but I realised he was never going to delete them. I slumped down, feeling absolutely crap. Numbly I lit a cigarette. Stupid but right then I didn't care. I pushed myself to inhale deeper, the roughness pushed the other feelings away somehow. It didn't feel good exactly but it made it feel more distant. Finally, and I'm really not proud of this, I wanked off, lighting a second cigarette half way through. Feeling drained I pulled my pants up and ran, long and hard. But you can't get away from something like that so easily.

New York Smokers

Sat, 14 Jan 2012 17:23:03 +0000

Where are all the under 40 guys in NY? 30 and very boyish, Winston and Marlboro 27 smokers here. It would be great to find a smoke buddy in Manhattan or Brooklyn.

Road Trip(Flight)

Sat, 14 Jan 2012 06:48:04 +0000

las vegas smoking road trip march 7 ro 12, 2012. anyone want to join me there. you can send me private message and i will get back with you.i will tell you the hotel and contact info.

Smoking In The Car

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 21:37:37 +0000

I just wondered for those of you who smoke in the car, what do you do with the butts? Do you use your ashtray or throw them out the window? If you use the ashtray where do you empty it out at

New Orleans 1/14-16

Sun, 08 Jan 2012 06:39:54 +0000

Looking for a bud under 45 who likes anybrand 100s! Will be n NOLA on 1/14-16 looking for some smoke fun. I'm 38, 6'3" 200 clean cut.

Chicagoland

Thu, 05 Jan 2012 02:26:40 +0000

26 y/o bearcub in the Chicago area. (Suburbs, NW IN, in the City...ect)

Looking for other smokers in the area to smoke up with and to feed the addiction. Don't smoke much now, but would like to change that...and find some smoker friends in the area as well.

Smoking Tv!

Wed, 04 Jan 2012 17:41:22 +0000

Of possible interest to UK members, BBC4 are tonight screening another of their excellent "Timeshift" series, entitled "The Smoking Years" This will probably be repeated numerous times over the coming months & will no doubt be available on iplayer as well. I have enjoyed others in the series, so have high hopes for this one.

Preview in the Metro reads:

After all public and workspaces became smoke free in 2007, the smoker is now becoming an endangered species. Barry Cryer and Stuart Maconie are among those coming out of the haze to study the history of the pastime, and discuss why it became so alluring.

PD

Smoker's Kiss

Wed, 04 Jan 2012 17:01:35 +0000

SMOKER'S KISS

I live with Jeff. He’s forty-four; I’m twenty-nine. I joke that, given my penchant for older men, my falling in love with him was probably inevitable. To which he responds: “You’re in love with me? And I’m over the age of eighteen?”

Falling in love with him may not be fate, but the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, his short-cropped gray hair, and the way he wears a navy suit don’t hurt. The first thing I thought when I saw him? He’s mine.

I tolerate Jeff’s smoking. I don’t like it, but, after all, he’s a full-grown man and can make his own decisions.

Still, I tried to set one limit. “I’m not kissing you after you’ve had a cigarette,” I told him.

“Then you’re not going to kiss me much.”

“Oh, come on, Jeff, you can’t just rinse with a little mouthwash?”

“Look, Zack, I like to smoke. If you’re so afraid of kissing me after I’ve had a cigarette, then we’ve got a problem.”

Well, fuck.

So I decided to live with it. And I managed not to bitch and moan about it. The longer I lived with it, the more I got used to it, and after a while, I didn’t think much about it. In fact, Jeff was such a great kisser that sometimes I even kissed him while he was having a cigarette.

One night we’re relaxing in bed. Tomorrow is a workday, but a vicious Sudoku puzzle is keeping me up past my bedtime, and a 900-page tome about the Protestant Reformation appears to be doing the same thing to Jeff. Jeff smokes while he reads. After he’s done with his cigarette, he extinguishes it in the ashtray on his nightstand, sets his book down and rolls over toward me. He runs his fingers over my bare chest.

“Can I do anything to tear you away from that puzzle?” he asks.

“It depends. What do you have in mind?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gently strokes my pecs.

I forget about the puzzle.

He kisses me. His lips are moist, and the stubble around them brushes my mouth. As his tongue touches mine and pushes deeper into my mouth, I am startled to realize that something in me likes the taste of his smokey breath. Something about the way he tastes is making me hard.

The next day, as soon as Jeff walks through the door, I greet him with a kiss that’s long, slow, and deep. Because I enjoy it, but also because I want to know how if my body will respond in the same way it did last night. There it is: the delicious taste of smoke on his breath, a taste reminiscent of caramel.

I get hard all over again.

“Wow,” he says. “A greeting like that makes the commute worthwhile.”

That’s how it begins. When we kiss, I notice the way he tastes. I notice it in the Zen manner, paying attention to details. I note both dominant tastes and more nuanced elements. The taste of his mouth changes depending on how many cigarettes he smokes, and on what he eats, and on the time of day; depends, even, it seems to me, on how much water he drinks. If he smokes after he he’s had a bowl of tomato soup, it’s one combination of flavors; if he smokes first thing in the morning, just after he wakes up, it’s another.

I can’t get enough of those smoky flavors. My body responds to them the way it wants to. My erotic response to his smoky mouth scares me, because it feels almost beyond my control.

I begin to have fantasies about Jeff and his smoking. I’m jacking off on the couch in our living room one afternoon, and I'm thinking about Jeff’s body, about the hair on his chest and the shape of his balls and the way his come looks when it’s squirting from his cock. Of course, I’m also thinking also the way he tastes after he’s had a cigarette.

Suddenly, images of him smoking fill my mind: the way the smoke streams from his nose and mouth when he talks; the way he lays in bed shirtless, tapping his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. These images combine with the knowledge that these are the things that lead to those tastes I love so much. Each image – and each fraction of each image – makes me almost giddy with excitement about the fact that Jeff is a smoker.

I stroke harder and harder. When I come, my orgasm feels like it will last forever.

My fantasies become smoke-centered and elaborate. I imagine giving Jeff a blow job while he smokes, pumping his cock in and out of my mouth while he inhales and exhales. I imagine that he smokes while he fucks me. I imagine that he has a friend from work who also smokes, and that the three of us get together for an evening of fun and smoking.

The more I fantasize about it, the more I begin to think that maybe I should ask Jeff if I could try one of his cigarettes. Who knows? I wonder. Maybe he’d like to see me smoke.

I lie on top of the bed; the only thing I’m wearing is a pair of designer briefs.

In a nearby mirror, I see my reflection: a dark-haired man of medium height, handsome, lean, in shape. I catch a glimpse of my underarm hair, and the down of hair on my chest. Looking at myself, thinking about what I want to say to Jeff, I feel my cock harden.

Jeff is in the bathroom. I listen to the sound of the shower faucet being turned off. I hear the water drip and drop, and then I hear Jeff open the medicine cabinet and turn on the sink faucet.

What will he say?

He might say no. It’s possible – unlikely, I think, but possible. Maybe it would make him uncomfortable to see me smoke. Maybe smoking is something that he wants just for himself. Maybe he’s on the verge of quitting and just hasn’t told me.

Jeff enters the room. He’s shirtless, wearing only a terrycloth towel wrapped around his waist. He’s in shape, but his stomach has a slight roundness that always turns me on because there’s something about it that, to me, looks both masculine and sensual. There’s a scar on his stomach, near his waist; it’s about two inches long, and the color is a very faint pink. His chest is covered with brown-gray hair.

As he sits on the bed next to me, I feel the warmth from the shower come off his body. I notice that there are still a few drops of water on his shoulders and reach over and smooth them off.

“How was the shower?” I ask.

“It was great. It felt good to get warmed up. It’s been so goddamned cold outside all day.”

He reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table. I hear his lighter click.

Now? I wonder. Should I ask him now? Or maybe when he gets into bed?

He stands up. The towel falls from his waist and he walks, naked, to the dresser. He opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of briefs. He keeps the cigarette in his mouth while he leans down and pulls the briefs up over his legs. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and walks back over to the bed, sits down, and snuggles up next to me, putting his ashtray on the sheet between his legs.

It’s time.

I swallow hard and my stomach lurches, but I get the words out of my mouth anyway: “Jeff… I was wondering… Would you… mind if I had a smoke?”

He looks at me a second, not really comprehending what I’ve said at first. I see a moment of confusion in his eyes, and then a look of surprise.

“You want a cigarette?” he says. I can’t help but notice the smoky smell of his breath as he asks the question.

“Yeah. I’d… I’d like to try it.”

“I thought you hated smoking.”

“Well, I think I’ve changed my opinion. I… I like the way it smells, and I was thinking that I’d like to try it.”

“Since when have you changed your opinion?”

“The last few months. I know it sounds weird, but… I kind of like the smell. And the way you taste when I kiss you after you’ve had a cigarette. And I’ve decided that it’s something I’d like to try. You like it, so I was thinking that I might like it, too.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leans in closer, pulls me toward him. Looking directly into my eyes, he puts his smoldering cigarette between his lips and inhales. He grins, slowly. “So you want to be a smoker, huh?” When he asks the question, he exhales the smoke directly toward me.

I’m fully hard, right then - zero to throbbing erection in about two seconds. I wonder if he notices. My palms are sweating.

I look him directly in the eyes. “Yeah, I’d like to try it.”

“Okay, Zack.” He puts his cigarette between his lips and then reaches across to his bedside table for his pack and then pulls one out. “Put this in your mouth,” he says, handing me a smoke.

I look at the length of it for a second, admiring the perfect cylinder and the yellow-papered filter and its firmness between my fingers. Then I do as he commands: I put it between my lips.

Jeff reaches for his lighter, and, still holding his smoldering cigarette between his lips, he says, “I’ll light that for you.”

I draw a puff into my mouth. The taste is somewhat acrid, but the texture is smooth. I’ve never tasted anything like it. Even kissing Jeff wasn’t a complete indication of what it would be like. I take another puff, allowing my tongue to become accustomed to the taste. I hold it in my mouth for a second then blow it out.

Jeff watches me.

“Am I doing it right?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “You have to blow the air out of your mouth first, and then inhale the smoke.”

So that’s what I do. I feel an immediate rush of smoke over my tongue and into my lungs. I’m conscious of this one second, and then, with then next, much sooner than seems possible, I’m blowing the smoke out of my mouth.

Wow. That felt… incredible.

Jeff grins. “You like?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“That’s because there isn’t anything like it. Now, take another puff.”

I do; knowing a bit about what to expect makes it easier. Again, the smoke rushes out of my mouth sooner than I think it will, and this time I notice that I’m blowing it through my nose as well. So this – the taste, the feeling of fullness in my lungs, the smooth texture of the smoke – this is what I’ve been so against all these years? This is what I’ve denied myself?

“Good boy,” Jeff murmurs. “It takes a bit of getting used to. Now, take another puff.”

I do.

Jeff stubbs out his cigarette, pushes the ashtray nearer to me, and then wraps his arm around me. “Come here,” he says softly. He draws me to him and we kiss. This time, I taste the smoke on his mouth and the smoke on my own mouth. It’s exquisite.

“Hi, there,” he says softly. “You taste good. Like you’ve been smoking.”

“Yeah. You, too.”

“I have a secret to tell you.”

“What?”

“I always hoped you’d start.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I always wanted you to. I always knew you’d look good with a cigarette in your mouth; I always knew you’d taste good after you’d had a cigarette.”

My cock feels like it’s harder than it’s ever been.

He continues. “And here you are, wearing just your underwear.”

He reaches inside, touching the length of my cock momentarily with his fingertips before he cups my balls with his hand.

“Maybe you should have another cigarette,” he says. He presses his hand against my balls, massages them slowly, making me ache.

“Maybe I will,” I say. I glance at the table where his pack sits.

He pulls his hand from my briefs, reaches for the pack, and pulls out another cigarette. He puts it between my lips and sparks his lighter. I inhale – and there it is, the taste of smoke.

He grins and pulls his own briefs down, exposing his own hard cock.

“I’d like you to know something,” he says.

“What?”

“Every time you have a cigarette, I’ll probably want to kiss you.”

Any Alabama Or Tennessee Smokers?

Wed, 04 Jan 2012 04:02:10 +0000

Hey guys, just wondering if there are any smokers in Northern Alabama or Tennessee? Where abouts if you are?

Happy Smokefuckin New Year 2012

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 01:02:36 +0000

sorry 4 no smokin ones ...

http://secure.smilebox.com/ecom/openTheBox?sendevent=4d6a6b784d7a41304d4456384e6a59314d7a59314e44593d0d0a&sb=1

Enjoy!

Out And Proud?

Mon, 02 Jan 2012 18:05:53 +0000

In reading some of BTJeff's posts, I've seen him mention the fact that he is well known among the people in his life as a smoke fetisher. Years ago, before the internet, Jeff said he used to advertise for smokers. Since then, he has, of course founded this site as well as been as out as a smoke fetisher as he is about being gay. This strikes me as a unique experience. Jeff appears to be as proud of being a smoke fetisher as he is about being gay.

I am a proud, out gay man also. However, somehow, I can't summon the same feelings of pride about being a smoke fetisher as I can about being gay.

When I was a kid, around 13 - long before I knew what a fetish was or that I was gay, I knew I was fascinated with smoking. One day I was at a party where I was able to steal a cigarette. I went outside to smoke it, along with another kid I knew. While we smoked that cigarette, I shared with him that smoking cigarettes made me hard. My companion immediately informed me, in no uncertain terms, that I was demented, perverted and otherwise a sick fuck. Needless to say, I never mentioned it to anyone ever again - until I was in my late 40s.

Since then, I have told several people in my life about my fetish. I decided that the only way for me to fulfill my potential was for me to be as publically authentic as possible. Interestingly, from all the people I've told, I haven't gotten one bad reaction. I do get a lot of surprise. No one who isn't in to this themself has ever heard of it. Still, I am not as comfortable publically as a smoke fetisher as I am about being gay.

I'm curious as to what everyone else's experiences have been on this point. Are you out as a smoke fetisher? What kind of reactions have you gotten? Anyone get any really bad reactions? Anyone feel about it the way I do - yet got past it? I wonder if in the next few years I'll get past these negative feelings so that I can enjoy my smoke fetish as much as I do being gay. (Not to say I don't enjoy my smoke fetish - I love it. It's just I can't be as proud of myself for being a smoke fetisher as I am about being gay in general.)

Comment To The Right Of Username On Profile Pages ?

Wed, 28 Dec 2011 06:21:02 +0000

Does anyone know what this is ? How does it get there. It doesnt make sense.

Smoking Calendars For 2012

Tue, 27 Dec 2011 14:43:57 +0000

Every year for the past few years I've created calendars with smoing pictures and posted them on BTJeff.net. If you'd like to check them out,links are below. One features twinks from BoysSmoking.com, the other two are done with Marlboro ads.

Boyssmoking Calendar - http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=4513

Marlboro Country Ads Calendar - http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=4512

Another Marlboro Ad Calendar - http://www.btjeff.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=4541

I hope you enjoy...

Smoke 'n' Porn

Mon, 26 Dec 2011 17:08:48 +0000

Hi guys

Finding it really hard ti find decent porn with good looking guys where smoking takes a main part. Lots of twink, the odd drag but no real substance.

Any links?

hairy, slim, muscled, tats, beards piercings, rough little scal fuckers - all approved.

Found a few Kallamacka vids with Ivan Rueda but its not proper smoke porn and the opening scene of Trojans Toolbox.

Suggestions here!

Identify This Hot Young Damager

Mon, 26 Dec 2011 03:00:49 +0000

on gay smoker europe http://gaysmoker.grou.ps/videos/1682458

He's clearly a damager by the way he's 1) hauling hard on a double, 2) holding his inhales, 3) double pumping, and 3) showing the dark brown filter at the end.

would love to see more of him and hear his hot rotten lungs at work

Holiday Best Wishes

Sat, 24 Dec 2011 18:56:40 +0000

May your holiday time be the smokiest ever!

Special wishes and thanks to Mikie for all he does for ALL OF US all year long! THANKS!

Holiday's smokefuckinest best!
Jeff

Anyone Around Fargo Nd?

Fri, 23 Dec 2011 15:39:33 +0000

Looking for a Marlboro smoke buddy and maybe a fwb. Bearded a plus - I have a longer blond beard. To save time, I'm 65, 5'9", 175 lbs. Send email to mnshvdhd@yahoo.com. Hope to meet someone!

Phx Or Atl Airports Tomorrow (12/21)

Tue, 20 Dec 2011 13:59:59 +0000

Going to be hanging out at the PHX airport tomorrow for a couple hours before my flight to ATL, and then have a 2.5 hour layover in ATL. Would love to meet another smoker if you will be traveling as
well! Hit me up and let me know!

Manchester Uk

Mon, 19 Dec 2011 21:44:35 +0000

Anyone want to meet up in Manchester? I'm back there after Xmas for a week or so. I know a bar near the city centre that has a heated smoking area!

Columbus

Mon, 19 Dec 2011 06:36:01 +0000

Anybody out there in the columbus Ohio area? Here for the holidays

Colorado Smokers

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 12:02:18 +0000

Any marlboro smokers in the colorado st or neighboring states?

In Nh Next Week

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 01:28:23 +0000

Headed to NH late next week. Where the Northeast smokers at?

In Nh Next Week

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 01:27:42 +0000

Headed to NH late next week. Where the Northeast smokers at?

Z To A.

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 01:20:53 +0000

Part 1

From my seat in the classroom, I idly watched the passers-by out of the corner of my eye as they were heading to and from class. Some of the faces looked familiar; the building I was in was where most of the English classes took place, so the majority were English majors like I was.
There wasn't anyone I could say I knew well, but I was able to put a few names to faces as they walked past. Some of them were in my Major classes last year, which covered under- and upperclassmen. However, none of them were people I had bonded with or been close to. As a Freshman last year, most of the people I really knew had been on my all-Freshman dorm floor. Even then, I wasn't too close to anyone.

The fact that I was now, as a Sophomore, living in a quiet off-campus apartment wasn't helping, either. I had done some of the math last Spring semester, and realized that I could save some money by getting the apartment than using the College's room-and-board plan. The apartment was five minutes away from campus, and I had a car of my own. The car was a bland little compact bought used, but it got me from Point A to Point B. After being dependent on parents and older friends last year since Freshmen couldn't have cars on campus, this was a relief. With my own place and car, I felt less trapped than I had in the dorm last year.

There wasn't anything wrong with where I was last year. The people on my floor were cool enough. I just usually kept to myself; I hated attracting notice. There wasn't any traumatic childhood incident that made me that way, either; I just preferred to keep things low-key if I could. This didn't stop the floor rumor mill, of course. Last I had heard, I was a secret agent, undercover in the dorm and really thirty-one years old like that old show about cops passing as high-school students.

The reality was far from it. I was just a guy, content to kick around in the background doing my own thing.

This did leave my social life on college a little lacking, I admitted. I could hear the rhythmic tap of my pen tip against my open notebook as I thought about it. Living off-campus wasn't a solution, but I was sure my interests and hobbies didn't really gel with anyone around here. I'd resigned myself to that last year, as well. On my own, living as I was and going to school, I could do what I wanted, at my own pace.

This didn't mean it wasn't boring as hell.

What enjoyment I could take from things was tainted by not having anyone to really hang out with or talk to, that didn't involve using a keyboard. Using the Internet could only go so far; I'd find myself feeling I was being repetitive, or just flat-out not finding what I was specifically looking for.

The problem was not anyone else's fault. The one thing I was concrete on was that it was me, not anyone else. I never really took a chance on things, or spoke my mind, or brought up to other people what got me going. I knew if anything was going to change, I couldn't wait for anyone to do it for me.

"Hey, it's Zack Attack," said a voice to my right, as I heard clothes rustling as someone took the seat next to me. I chuckled, despite myself. That was a nickname given to me the first week of Freshman year, which few people kept on with afterwards. I think I would have been horrified at my parents if 'Attack' was actually our last name. Thank God it wasn't. But, that narrowed down the speaker's identity quickly.

I turned my head to the right, seeing a familiar head of short, unruly reddish-blond hair. He was leaning forward, grabbing a notebook from his knapsack that he carried around.

"Hey, Adam," I said, as after finding his book, Adam looked back up at me. His nose and cheeks still held a faint smattering of freckles, set off by eyes that were a very dark brown. The way he looked, I almost expected green eyes when I saw his face, but that was not the case.

Adam and I lived on the same floor last year, when I lived on campus. We were both English majors, and he was pretty much the one I hung around with the most. That is not saying much, mind. But, we had a lot of the same classes together, and ended up cramming for quite a few tests. He'd ask to hang out sometimes, and depending on my mood I'd either take him up on it or beg off for some reason.

I wasn't sure why I did that, but then he smiled at me, and I remembered. There were some things that I never told the people on my floor last year. One of those was that Adam's smile could melt steel, in my honest opinion. But, I didn't want to risk anything as usual; I'd seen the hell they put kids on that floor who didn't fit in. But that smile, the little dimples that formed on the sides of his mouth as he did so, made me realize that I had missed him over the summer. I had even realized I was hoping he'd be in at least one class of mine when I came back.

"Hey yourself." Adam half-turned in his seat. "I wasn't sure if you changed schools or something. You never said anything about where you were living this year."

"Nah," I said. "I wasn't big on the dorms, so I'm living off-campus."

"Really?" Adam's eyes lit up at the news. "That's awesome. Your own place, or you got roomies?"

"Just me. Got some space."

"What, did you and Tyler not get along?"

Tyler was my roommate last year. We weren't that close, but it wasn't anything tragic. "Eh. Tyler's all right, but we were just different people. No harm, no foul, and I think he's in Donaldson dorm with that Orlando guy."

"Donaldson, huh," Adam said. "I got there late, so I ended up in Conners."

Even I flinched at that. Conners was a serviceable dorm. As in the rooms there had four walls, a roof, and doors that locked. But it was built like fifteen hundred years ago, so the windows let in a draft, and you could hear people screwing three rooms down. It had a rep on campus as the 'party dorm,' but there was always something sinister about the way they said it.

"Ouch, dude," I answered. "Hope you packed some extra blankets."

"Those. Some earplugs, air fresheners." Adam ticked off on his fingers as he rattled off a list. "Extra garbage bags, disinfectant wipes, Febreeze...my roommate would have thought I was OCD if he'd noticed when I walked in."

My heart sank. Crap. If I'd stayed on campus, maybe I could have prevented this. "Bad?"

"Dunno. The guy's name is Stan. Poli Sci major, I think. But when I was moving in, I opened the door, and he was 'en flagrante' with his girlfriend." Adam made a face. "All the cleaning stuff, and I realized I forgot the brain bleach."

"Um, I don't think 'en flagrante' is really a French word," I said. Like I knew; I took Spanish as the easy language like a lot of folks.

"Doesn't matter. Point is, they were screwing. Openly and loudly." Adam glowered at the surface of his desk. "No class, I swear. It made me miss last year, back on the all-Freshman floor, you know?"

"You miss it?"

"Yeah," Adam said. "It felt less...I dunno. I shouldn't have waited til the last minute to register for a dorm this year." He glanced to me, then to his other side. "How about you?"

"A little," I admitted. "I mean, I haven't really talked to anyone since classes started yesterday, and I'm off on my own..." Yeah, my social interaction this year was going to be way down as a result. It's the price I was paying.

"I remember that one kick-ass party we had," Adam said, the memory making him grin. "That first weekend, remember?" Remembering another detail, Adam slapped his forehead with the palm of his head. "'Course you do. It was your birthday party."

"That," I said. "My birthday was just used as an excuse for the floor to get together, go nuts and get trashed."

"I didn't see you objecting." Adam winked at me, and my heart fled to somewhere down into my shoes. Oh, damn, I'd forgotten the way he played with my head. "Not every day someone turned eighteen, you know?"

"Tell me about it," I said. Yeah, my eighteenth birthday involved a kicking dorm party, and more disappointment that I wanted to think about right then. It was getting better now, but just barely. "But that day is long past."

"Which means." Adam's eyes widened. "Your birthday is this weekend, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"And you're off-campus. Party?"

I shook my head. "Nah. I'm not in the mood for that much noise."

Adam shrugged his shoulders. "You should celebrate, though. Want some company?"

Desperately.

On some odd reflex, I almost said no. Just because it was what I was used to, but I was feeling a bit on the lonesome side, and it was Adam. I also thought he wanted to get away from his dorm and his sexually flagrant roommate.

It wasn't exactly what I had planned for my birthday, but...

"Yeah," I said. "Look, I have a couch there too if you want a place to crash."

The look of relief that moved across his face nearly broke me right then and there. "Sure," he said.

"Need me to pick you up?"

"Nah," Adam said. "I have a car this year, thank God." He sank into his seat, like he was deflating. "I thought I'd be sleeping in it this weekend. Where do you live, now?"

I had to tell him in a quieter voice, because the professor had walked in to the classroom, finally, and started introducing the course.

I was done with my classes late in the day. I'd have probably gotten something to eat with Adam, but he had another class, and I was really itching to get my stuff home, relax, and maybe start in on some of the homework. Especially if I was having him over Friday night; I didn't want the specter of work-to-be-done hanging over my head that weekend. The campus food, at least, didn't change over the summer, though it felt awkward paying with cash instead of the meal card that students living on campus had. But, I also had a small fridge back at my own apartment with some stock in it. I even had a full case of beer; a gift from my dad. He said I could do as I wanted, but if I drank and drive he'd kill be and bury me in the backyard.

But I wasn't up to a beer after a day of class and emergency plan-making due to Adam. By the time I finally got back to my place I was wiped out. Still, there was homework and reading to be done, and me sitting around and ignoring it was not going to fix that.

I cleaned up my place a little, which was mostly boxes from unpacking the other day when I moved in. Once done, I flopped down onto the couch, and reached for the humidor on the end table to one side of it. Picking out a CAO America 6X60 for myself, I smiled at the feel of the large tube of tobacco between my fingers. I clipped the end, and felt blood rush to my head as I slipped the cut end between my lips. Using a simple lighter, I fired it up, feeling the warm smoke curl around inside my mouth. Leaning my head back, I blew a cloud of smoke into the air above me. The slight nicotine rush made my head feel soft as I watch the smoke waft upward.

My eighteenth birthday, last year, was a bit of a disappointment. The dorm party was cool, and it was nice of the other people on my floor to recognize it, but none of them had really asked me what I wanted. I didn't let it bother me, because I'd dealt with being let down already that day.

Cigars, over this past summer, became a habit, a hobby, and something I truly enjoyed. Before I had turned eighteen, it had been a fascination. I would say 'bordering on obsession,' but I was sure that in my teens I had gone way over that border. I fantasized about smoking cigars, or watching other guys smoke them. By the time I was sixteen, I was dreaming about the damn things, and finding and hiding DVDs that had scenes of guys smoking cigars in them, like my own porn stash.

But it was my eighteenth birthday I had been waiting for. On my computer, I had a locked file, full of links. A lot of sites didn't allow access until a guy was eighteen, and while I could have just lied, it seemed...wrong, in a way. I'd play by the rules, and when I came of age, I'd be able to wander the internet with reckless abandon and go through all those links to get to the riches I'd been waiting on. Stories, videos, pictures, chat rooms and bboards... I was excited more for that than I had been about actually going away to college.

The morning of my eighteenth birthday, the first weekend I was away at college, my roommate Tyler had to go home for his retail job, so I had my dorm room to myself. I revved up my computer, and hammered in the password to open the file. Lines and lines of web addresses were waiting, invitingly, for me to finally get a peek behind the curtain I'd been staring at for so long.

I started at the top of the list, cutting-and-pasting it into my browser. After a moment, the page loaded...404. I sighed to myself. It was bound to happen; I had started collecting these links when I was fifteen. I shrugged it off, and went to the next link...which came up 'website unavailable' after waiting for five minutes. Ah, well.

But, as I went down this list of painstakingly copied links, it got so much worse.

'This video has been removed...'

'This site has been closed...'

'This site will not be continued...'

'This site has moved to a new site you have to pay for now...'

'The ToS changed and this site had to be shut down...'

'There is no Yahoo group with that name...'

Apparently, for my eighteenth birthday, my present from the universe at large was to be pegged for a large but of mockery at my expense. I had put a lot of work into that link collection, and a lot of anticipation into enjoying the content of those links. It felt...cruel, almost.

Some of the links still worked, but I didn't really gel with what I saw. Leather, for me, was best suited for jackets. There were a few nice picture sites, but it wasn't really the place that people talked about cigars. There were a few cigar discussion sites, filled with a jargon that seemed incomprehensible to me at the time, and the pictures...well, apparently, cigars had booth babes. Not what I wanted to look at; I was strictly guys-only in my sexual interests.

No one on my dorm floor last year was really into cigars. Cigarettes and other smokeables, sure, but I knew what got my crank turning. For fuck's sake, I was on a floor teeming with freshmen college guys and not one stogie in the bunch. I never told anyone about my interest, which I could pass as a grown-up curiosity as opposed to the fact that the idea of smoking cigars made my chest tight and my balls sweat gallons.

I never even told Adam. Not that he was a kid; he was older than me by a few months, but he never seemed to be like the other folks on my floor. He was social, and people liked him, but he seemed to be in his own world a lot of the time. He came across as almost innocent, if you didn't know him. But he could tell a dirty joke with the rest of them, or make someone snort their soda at dinner with a well-timed innuendo.

As I sat on my couch that day after classes, taking deep puffs on the cigar, I wondered what Adam would think about my new habit. Would he condemn me, mock me...or would he ask for one? It didn't seem like him to smoke, but that's what got to me. I felt my dick, all seven inches, nearly bursting the seams of the shorts I had on as I thought about it. The look of him with a stogie, exhaling smoke, looking at me.

My cock felt burning to the touch as I slipped a free hand under the waistband of my shorts. The combination of smoking cigars, remembering the whole anticipation from last year, and fantasizing about Adam had just combined in my head into this amorphous monster. And that monster wanted me to rub one out right there. And who was I to deny the wishes of the monsters in my head?

After I came, sweat rolling down the back of my neck and smelling that same sweat mixed with cigar smoke, I started drifting down from the mental high I was on. The idea of telling Adam made me uncomfortable. I knew it shouldn't; this was my place, and I was an adult. I was also hating the fact that I had no one to really talk to about this. But Adam...God, I had actually missed him, and I wasn't sure how he'd react, and...

I slumped forward, leaving the cigar butt leaning into the large ashtray I kept on the coffee table in front of me. Looking at the stack of books beside it I remembered I really, really needed to get some homework done.

Hot Things Guys Have Said In Chat Room

Thu, 15 Dec 2011 17:17:34 +0000

Some of my favorites during my chat sessions with other smokers:

Me: Morning! How's that cigarette taste?
Him: Oh, man! There's nothing better to wake up to.

Me: Ready to smoke cigarette after cigarette?
Him: Of course. I've looked forward to cigarette, after cigarette.

Him: "Tell me how much you need your 100's."

Me: "Let's get to Marlboro Country."
Him: "Baby, I'm there! Let's pitch a tent and stay there."

Him: "I can't live without my Marlboro 100's."

Me: "How soon do you smoke after getting out of your college class?"
Him: "Dude, I knock people over to get out the door and light up!"

Him: "I'm lighting up again."

What are some of yours?

Ferris Coombe - Chapter 11

Wed, 14 Dec 2011 13:15:10 +0000

As he went down to dinner that Sunday evening John was feeling more troubled than he had any right to be. They'd stayed in bed talking and laughing and smoking till John thought it couldn't get any better. Then it did, and they made love with an intensity that left John shaken with the depth of his feelings, and Tom giving another of those deep throaty laughs because he'd shot his load right in his own face. Then, after another of those special shared cigarettes, they'd showered together. He was feeling absolutely wonderful till he was on his own. Bill had called them down to dinner so Tom had gone off to get changed. As soon as he'd gone John missed Tom's presence. If he couldn't cope with minutes apart did he really want to go back? The thought of life in London seemed empty without Tom. And Tom would be devastated. Glibly he'd told Bill he wouldn't hurt his son but... What was he going to do? It was just too much, he lit another cigarette, pocketing the pack and his lighter and headed down.

He wasn't sure he'd enjoy the meal but Tom had lit up when he entered the room – not a cigarette this time, just joy... love? And all was right with the world again. He ate heartily after the day's exertions. The surprise was how much he liked spending time with Tom's mum, Agnes. Bill was minding the bar. John had been nervous of how she might react but he couldn't help liking her. She had a wicked sense of humour and was very down to earth about the situation, teasing her son for being 'lovestruck' and never failing to point out when he blushed because their hands had touched or he'd burped. But it was plain she loved him to bits. Seeing them together John found he got to know Tom so much better – in a way he became more of a real person and not just an object of desire. Though not any less of one, which was a little disconcerting. Finally, in spite of a touch of sulkiness, she was very firm that John's presence was no excuse for Tom to miss his turn to help out behind the bar.

Now he was full of good food John became very aware of how much physical work he'd done that day. Still some instinct made him offer to help Agnes with the washing up. Half an hour later he was ruing that instinct. Not only did she expect absolute perfection in washing up but he'd been exhaustively questioned too. And not just about his family, but work and friends, hobbies and ambitions were covered. He was pretty sure she knew exactly what his life-style was and if not exactly disapproving was certainly unimpressed. Nevertheless when they'd done and she said, “Thank you, John.” almost formally, adding “Now, I'm sure you'll be wanting to go off into the bar parlour.”
“Er... pardon?”
“Aren't you dying to get back to making doe eyes at my son.”
“Er...”
“Go on, get.”
And she sent him off with a slap on the rump. Blushing but feeling that if that was all a test he might just have passed he headed off.

The instant he walked into the smoky fug of the 'bar parlour' Tom looked his way. And then John's face split into a big grin. They were doe eyes. Beautiful ones, made him go all melty inside, but also exactly as she'd said.
“What's so funny?” Tom asked, having made his way over.
“I'll tell you later.”
“You'd better.”

Inevitably Tom got him some scrumpy. When John insisted on paying he found it was the ridiculous price of 40p a pint. The real stuff like this would have been more like four quid in London. If you could have got it. It seemed tobacco duties weren't the only ones they chose to ignore. Bill made it clear to Tom he was working though. Didn't even give him the time for one cigarette with John before sending him down to the cellars. John looked around noticing the place seemed half empty, but then it was Sunday. The clientèle was just what he'd expect, mostly older men, the younger farm hands looked like they had ambitions to become fixtures. Then he spotted the doctor waving him over to where he was sat with three other men. He put out his cigarette and went over.
“You play?” he asked, indicating the dominoes set out on the table.
“Er, no.”
“I suppose not. Well, best not risk it then.”
“Really?”
“You'll see, dominoes is a serious business.”
“I'll take your word for it.”
Just then it was the doctor's turn, and it was clear the other's resented the intrusion. Worse still as, mysteriously the doctors move caused consternation. The game once again had the doctor's attention but that was OK. It was another one of those things here, the doctor had made him welcome and then, well, dominoes was a serious business. But one which made no sense to John. He tried to follow the game but it took place in almost silence, just the odd smile, frown or grunt which told the quality of a move. After a few minutes John gave up and got out his cigarettes to find the pack empty. Already?
“Here you are lad.” the doctor was offering his cigarette case.
“Thanks.”
He gave the doctor a light and then was left to smoke undisturbed while the game came to a conclusion.
“Count me out boys.” the doctor said as the dominoes were turned faced down and mixed with a clatter on the table top. “I want a word with young John here. Can I get you a drink?” he added.
“Let me.”
John had to insist but he wanted to go to the bar for more cigarettes. He took two more pints of cider over to the doctor who had moved to the next table. It felt completely private so absorbed were the players in their game. He was just lighting up when Tom came back into the bar, but they just exchanged looks, smiles.
“You really have made an impression on our Tom. Quite smitten wouldn't you say.”
“The feeling's mutual.”
“Ah, is it now.” he lit a cigarette, “Good.”
“Glad you think so.” said John with a touch of asperity.
“Ah, young love. Never easy.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“What? Oh, no. Of course not dear boy. I wouldn't dream of interfering. None of my business, as you know. Though I'd imagine Agnes is taking an interest by now.”
“You imagine right.” John said, and explained how he'd been interviewed after dinner ending by saying, “All right and proper I suppose.”
“Hmm, yes, well... If you and Tom are serious.”
“Well yes, that's the question. But not what you wanted to talk about?”
“No. You seem to have taken to smoking well enough.”
“Yeah, I never thought I would but... Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“That's right.”
“You're not going to tell me it's bad for me are you? Because, believe me, I know. But... well, I'm beginning to think it might be worth it.”
It was a little awkward, being faced with this aspect of smoking, and John found himself feeling a little defiant.
“Easy now. You'll get no lecture from me.”
“Oh.” It felt a bit like when you go up a step and find it isn't there. “So?”
“I suppose I wanted to reassure you, if anything. I know how it is outside. The horror stories. Go a bit far if you ask me. That's not to say there's nothing too it.” he added, seeing John's incredulous look, “But it all gets a wee bit puritanical, if you know what I mean.”
“Not really.”
“Well, in all the stories they tell it's like the pleasure of smoking counts for nothing.”
“Pardon?” John like his way of speech so much, that little pause after the 'well' brought a smile to his face, so that for a moment he'd let the words just flow over him.
“See now, did anyone actually ever tell you as how you might enjoy smoking.”
“Well, no.”
“Exactly. The way they tell it you'd have to be bonkers to want to smoke. It's all part of how they wind you up out there. Turn you all into good little consoomers, always chasing after summat and never satisfied.” John had thought something similar before, but he loved the way the doc put it. Consoomers. “You want another, young man?”
He was offering his cigarette case. He'd only just put one out but it seemed rude to refuse.
“Er, yeah, thanks.”
“See,” the doc said, after they'd lit up. “That's satisfaction.”
“Er, well, yeah, its...”
“That's what I mean. Damn puritanical attitudes. Don't let you just enjoy life's simple pleasures.”
“I don't know. I am enjoying this.”
“Well, good. I thought maybe it would come hard for you. 'Cause outside they've decided smoking is bad it's like you're not allowed to want to smoke. Best you can hope for is some kind of is rebellious attitude. You know what I mean?”
John thought again about how weed, coke and e's were all so much more socially acceptable than smoking.
“Well, yes, I suppose I do.”
“Simple fact is smoking makes a body feel good, see.”
Well, that was hard for John to doubt, seeing as he'd just taken a final drag and his body was feeling good.
“Hmm. And is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Want you to understand, yes.” the doctor said, smiling now, “That and one other thing.”
“Oh yes?”
“I know this has all happened of a sudden like for you. Lot to take in, what with other things, but you do know you're addicted?”
“Addicted.”
“Hmm, thought you might see it like that.”
“How am I supposed to see it?”
“Well, most as I tell that to, and mind they're usually way younger than you, fourteen, fifteen maybe, well, they're right proud. Mind you, they know it really, just want reassuring.”
“Reassuring?”
“That it's the real thing. 'Suppose you wouldn't know but round these parts, well, youngsters they mostly know they're going to smoke. See it as a sign of growing up.”
“I'd heard.”
“Had you now?”
John explained about reading Tom's book, A Boy's First Cigarettes.
“Ah, right, so you do know. By the way, do smoke if you want to.”
“I'm not sure I do want to. Wouldn't that just be feeding my addiction?”
“Ah, well, you see, that's the point. I don't want to worry you but it's too late for that. Believe me, I've seen a lot of smokers and I know the signs. The way someone smokes, really deep inhales; a hint of panic if they run out. Of course, I was surprised to see them so soon in you but then, I understand there were special circumstances.”
“Oh, this is so weird.”
“Now you've said a thing. But go on, have a smoke. You'll feel better.”
“I don't want...” for a moment John's voice rang out in the almost silent bar, and he lowered it, embarrassed, “to have a smoke.”
“Really?” The doctor sounded unconvinced and proceeded to light up himself. Of course this just made it all the clearer to John that he'd been lying. Seeing the doctor inhaling made him want one badly but... addicted? There was something almost humiliating about it, being a slave to cigarettes. He hadn't asked for that.
“Are you OK.” Oh no, Tom had come over after his little outburst. He hated to see the worry in his eyes.
“It's OK Tom.” the doctor said, “I'll handle it.”
Anger surged up in John as Tom went of, so obviously trusted him, like they were all in it together.
“Look, John.”
The doctor's concerned tone just irritated him more.
“What?”
“I know it's hard. You didn't ask for this.”
“Too right I didn't.”
“No. But you have to face facts. I know how you're feeling. Tense. Irritable. A kind of gnawing in your guts. But you must understand they're signs that you really need to smoke. That's what I wanted you to see. I know it seems I've made it worse but you must understand what being addicted means.”
“And just what does it mean?”
Part of him felt bad for being so snappy but. He really was starting to feel like shit.
“That you've changed John. Your body has changed. It needs the nicotine in cigarettes. And it's not a change you can undo.”
“Terrific.”
“You know it's only a problem if you try and fight it.”
“So you want me to smoke. Pretty funny attitude for a doctor, if you don't mind my saying.”
“I want you to accept that you are a smoker now. That you need to smoke and that trying to deny that will only cause you and others unhappines.”
“Yeah. I got that message.”
“If you don't mind my saying I don't believe you have. I don't imagine you understand much about addiction.”
“Thanks. But I can't say I was ever that interested.”
“Well, I suggest you listen. You know there's two stages to addiction. The first is psychological addiction. You enjoy the release of smoking and, unconsciously maybe, decide to go with it, give yourself that pleasure. Well, the rewards are so good it's hard to give that up. But possible.”
“Hmmph.” He'd heard this before. Though he was hardly in the mood for a lecture John did actually appreciate the doc's attempts to lower the emotional pitch.
“It's actually psychological dependence that accounts for cravings. They form part of a cycle of rewards, give you in a sense an easy rationalisation for doing what you want to do, namely smoke.”
“So?”
“So beyond that, usually after a prolonged period of fairly heavy smoking, comes physiological dependence where your body needs nicotine to function. Without it you become tense, irritable... Sounds familiar.”
“All too. What I want to know is what can I do about it.”
“Smoke.”
“Oh brilliant. That's your medical advice, is it?”
“Oh I could suggest nicotine replacements, patches, suchlike, but really do you think that's going to work here, surrounded by smokers?”
“So that's the best you can come up with, is it.”
“No, the best I can come up with is 'it's satisfying', 'one of life's simple pleasures', 'it's worth it' oh no, that was you.”
“I didn't have you down as a tricky bastard.”
“John, I am not but you're trying my patience. If you'd just have a smoke you might be able to think about this more clearly. Trust me, you'll feel so much better.”
Again the doctor was holding out his cigarette case and this time John couldn't help himself. He took one, the light, inhaled. But this time it didn't really do the trick. He didn't realise it but he glared at the cigarette, like it had let him down.
“It's OK John, you just need to get your nicotine levels back up to... normal.”
“Normal?” his tone was derisive, but he did smoke again and it began to feel better. He concentrated on smoking while the doctor droned on, saying something about how your body actually produces its own nicotine but you get dependence when the intake from smoking supplants that. Interesting but not as absorbing as trying to satisfy the hunger in his lungs. He only fully rejoined the conversation when he found the doctor apologising.
“I'm sorry. I was trying to warn you against getting into a state like that and it seems I provoked it.”
John took another deep drag and said, “No, I'm sorry. I was really crabby then.”
Crabby, that was how that book described it.
“Well, yes. But maybe you needed to know what would happen if you didn't smoke enough.”
“Hmm.”
“And I warn you, it may take two or three cigarettes before you feel, well... right.”
“Terrific.”
“Best get on with it. I mean, I don't mind. I suppose I asked for it, but I don't think you want to be grumpy for your young man.”
“God no.” he made a point of catching Tom's eye again, smiling to let him know everything was all right, even though he still felt a little empty inside. The smoke was helping as it got stronger toward the end. In no time he'd finished one and took another. With a teasing comment of “Doctor's orders, eh.” he lit up.

The Men's Room (New Story)

Wed, 14 Dec 2011 05:57:30 +0000

The Men’s Room

Pretty boy Jake enters the Men’s Room at a seemingly abandoned rest stop, only to leave as a real man.

By J. Dziewaltowski

Jake had been driving for over 3 hours now, horrible lost in what looked like a deserted wasteland. Nothing but sand dirt and tumble weeds could be seen for miles around. Worse still, he was almost out of gas, and needed desperately to use the bathroom. Hoping to see any form of civilization soon, he kept driving. Following the old road straight on until finally he rolled up to what seemed to be an old rest-stop.

He could tell there was no use trying to get any gas from the ancient pump in the middle of the lot, as it wasn’t even attached to its base. The rest of the lot didn’t look much better. There was a small cement brick building with 3 doors and no windows. One door had a sign with one of those little pictographs depicting a stick figure with a skirt. Obviously the ladies room. The second door seemed to be for the maintenance/storage area as he could see mops and boxes and such strewn about inside. The third door was hanging off its hinges slightly, and had not a picture, but the words “Men’s Room” in rusted iron letters nailed to the top. Jake was practically peeing himself at this point, so he bolted into the men’s room and immediately ran to a urinal.

Jake is a small guy. 19 years old, maybe 125lbs. He had a runner’s build with sandy blond hair in a floppy mess in his head. Piercing green eyes and a slightly pale completion made him look as if he hadn’t seen much sun in a while. Wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a blue and white plaid button down shirt finished off his appearance.

As he stood there relieving hours of pent up pressure, he started to feel uncomfortable. As if he as being watched. From what he had seen as he rushed in, there was no one else around, but he still had this nagging supposition that something wasn’t right. And boy was he right! The rest of the room was almost pitch black. The dim bulb in the ceiling only lit up the urinals and a sink, leaving most of the room in darkness. It was a nasty disgusting place. Dirt and any many of grime was all over every surface. The toilets looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years, and the mirrors were caked with muck. There was the distinct smell of urine that pierced your nose as you breathed, laced with the slight aroma of smoke. Many a cigarette had obviously been puffed in here. Typical men's room. Men just didn’t have the decency to clean after themselves.

Jake finished up, shaking his modest 6incher and packed it back into his jeans. He headed over to the sink, when something stopped him suddenly. It was a voice. A growl almost, coming from the last stall in the dark corner of the room.
“Ay bitch boy what’chu doin in ‘ere! This ‘ere’s the MENS room! You ain’t no Man!” The voice growled
Paniced, Jake responded shakily, “Uh… I, I’m just leaving Sorry.”

Just then, the voice laughed. Quite an evil laugh at that, and the door to the Men’s room slammed shut. Jake Bolted for the door, but no matter how hard he pushed, it just wouldn’t open. The smell of smoke was getting stronger as the voice laughed. But it wasn’t cigarettes. It was the rancid stink of a cigar. And it seemed to be getting stronger by the second.

“P..p..please I just wanna leave” Jake stuttered in terror.

But the voice just laughed louder. Then, it stopped. From the stall, a cloud of thick grey smoke emerged, it filled half the room before it started to dissipate, and standing there, was the largest man Jake had ever seen. Around 6’9” 285lbs of thick furry man-meat was encased in a leather vest and torn stained dark blue jeans. Gigantic black boots that glinted in the dim light encased what had to be size 15 or so feet. The man’s face was all but buried in dark beard and the top of his head could be seen clearly, as it was reflecting the rotted ceiling tiles like a mirror. He was glaring down at Jake with pure malice in his eyes. He knew what was going to happen, and he loved every second of it.

The man picked Jake up by his collar, and growled, “This ‘ere’s for MEN only! You ain’t a man… but ya will be!”
Dropping Jake to the floor, he watched as he scrambled to stand up. Before he could though, the man blew a cloud of dark smoke towards Jake, and enveloped him. He could hear Jake screaming for help, and as the cloud cleared away, he could see why. Jake was kneeling on the floor butt naked with a thick leather collar around his neck, leather braces around his wrists and ankles, a cock-ring and ball stretcher firmly gripping his manhood, chains extended out to the floor and walls to hold him in place, and a ball-gag was clamped in his mouth. The man smiled and Jake could see his dark yellow stained teeth. He could almost smell the rancid breath as the bear leaned down to examine his work.

“Fuckin pretty boy bitch thinks he’s man enough to use the men’s room! Filthied up the pisser with his fag boy piss. Well, gotta make sure you’re properly full when ya are man enough to be in here!” The bear said while smoke clouded around Jakes trembling head.

Jake was screaming into the gag, but it was no use. All he could do was groan and droll around the large ball in his mouth. But the Man removed it as he unzipped his grungy jeans and out flopped a houge tube of meat. Probably 12” long and 6” around, the mammoth cock inched over to Jakes now shut mouth. But the man leaned down and crushed His nipple in his fingers, making jake scream out and open long enough for the man to slide his monster into Jake’s throat.
Jake choked and gagged, but the meat just slid further down until it stopped, stretching his throat obscenely. The man grunted, and released a harsh stream of boiling piss directly into Jakes stomach. Jake tried to protest, but the gigantic sausage blocked all sound except muffled grumbled and retching sounds. The piss continued to flow, and Jake started to feel full. The beast had filled jakes empty stomach to the top with piss, and was still going. Slowly distending Jakes slight 6pack until it looked like a beachball had been shoved under his skin.

The man stopped pissing, and pulled out with a slurping sound, and jake immediately tried to vomit, but no matter how much he retched, nothing came up. He looked down and saw his extremely bloated belly, and cried out from a mixture of pain and humiliation. But, to his shock, no sound came out. His voicebox had been muted somehow. He tried yelling, but it was silent. The man looked down and smiled evily.

“Bitch boys shouldn’t make a sound unless ordered. Don’t worry though, in a bit, you'll be a real man!”

Addiction Stimulation Tips

Tue, 13 Dec 2011 00:08:33 +0000

I notice a lot of the guys here express the desire to increase their addiction. I thought the following might help.

This is a two step process

FILTER FUCKIN TIPS [Getting more out of your cigarette]

1. Cut half of the filter off your cigarette before lighting up.

2. Begin smoking a full flavored regular brand (Marlboro) and a menthol full flavored brand (Newport). Combining the two incorporates a change & preventing you from getting that ?smoked-out? feeling. Buying in boxes allows you to premix your smokes that you carry with you for the day. You will notice the menthol cigarettes will give a slight minty taste to your regular cigarettes.

3. Double the number of packs you carry with you.

4. Before lighting up, poke a hole through the filter into the tobacco with a toothpick, pipe cleaner or ice pick, etc. Additional holes will give you additional hits of direct nic & tar.

5. The tobacco used in lights are stronger that full flavored if there are air holes around the filter. When smoking be sure the air holes are also inside your mouth.

CHAIN-SMOKING BEGINNINGS

1. To start a smoke chain, repeat every day at the same time.

2. Begin the chain at a moderate level of 2 or 3 cigarettes. The idea is not to get smoked out.\

3. Each week increase the chain by only one cigarette.

4. It's possible to build a chain of 10 cigarettes in just 10 weeks.

source: BTJeff TipsTricksTechniques Forum

Ky/wv/va

Mon, 12 Dec 2011 02:42:08 +0000

Hello. I'll be traveling through KY/WV/VA in a week or so. Wouldn't mind meeting up.

Btjeff.net Smoking Celeb Of 2011 Finalist

Sun, 11 Dec 2011 19:41:24 +0000

1. ALEX PETTYFER
2. BRAD PITT
3. COLIN FARRELL
4. JAKE GYLLENHAAL
5. JAMES FRANCO
6. JAMES MARSDEN
7. JOSH DUHAMEL
8. MARK DALTON
9. MATT HUGHES
10. PAUL WALKER
Go VOTE for your two favorites in Smokin Pictures forum:
viewtopic.php?f=5&t=4510&p=13639#p13639