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A few months after Cassie refused my marriage proposal, I had quite an interesting interview with a lesbian couple, Rob and her girlfriend Jay. Their actual names were Roberta and Jenny. I thought it was quite odd, but they wanted to act as ‘butch’ as possible, while still looking feminine and pretty. Both wore a lot of makeup and had long curly hair, Jay’s in red, and Rob’s shiny and nearly black. The two of them shared a long cigar. I usually prefer ladies smoking long white cigarettes, but there was something special about seeing their lips on something about the same size and shape as my penis.
I asked them each a dozen or so of the usual questions, and their answers were very typical. They were 20 and shared a small apartment while they went to college. They had started smoking at 15 when Rob took a cigar from her father’s desk, and now they shared four or five cigars a day. It took quite a while for the fans to clear the dense smoke after the interview, but I was glad I got a chance to watch them.
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I had stealthily watched Beth smoke as I babysat her when she was only NINE years old! Now she was 18 and told me she was starting a ‘witchcraft’ shop with a few friends. As I started the interview in my basement, I was surprised to see her open her purse and take out a large Calabash pipe, a la Sherlock Holmes.
“Most smokers like cigarettes. Why a pipe?”
She lit it with a match and I smelled the aroma of cherry tobacco. “It gets a lot of attention, good and bad. My friends usually like anything strange or different, and boring regular people usually don’t like it, so they avoid me.”
She took another big puff as I asked, “Do you like smoking different flavors, or just cherry tobacco?”
“I try a lot of things. Sometimes I mix in some clove or weed. If you mix weed with some of the strong-smelling tobaccos nobody can tell.” She held the mouthpiece to her lips as she smiled naughtily and took another puff.
I said, “I’m not a fan of drugs or doing anything illegal, but that makes sense.”
She said, “No, weed is legal here now.”
I reminded her, “It’s legal when you’re 21.”
She giggled, “Hehehe! Then it’s good nobody can tell.”
By the time she left, I was starting to feel happy and strange. I wondered if I had gotten a little high from second-hand pot smoke. I wasn’t going to take a drug test to find out, though.
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Many months after refusing to marry me because of my overpowering smoking fetish, Cassie called me again. “Craig, I’m having trouble. I… I’ve called everybody I could think of, but none of them can help me. Could… I don’t believe I’m saying this. I need a lot of money in a hurry and I’ll do what you want.”
“Sure!”
She asked, “Can you come over this weekend?”
I had already picked up two cameras and was looking for batteries. “I can be there in ten minutes, if that’s okay?”
I could almost hear her roll her eyes and shake her head as she sighed. “You’re still the old you! Of course, you can be here in ten minutes.” She sighed again before hanging up.
When I knocked on her door carrying two heavy bags of cameras and gear, she shouted, “It’s open!”
I walked in and saw her sitting on the sofa in the living room. My eyes widened and I froze in surprise. She looked up at me as she rubbed her large abdomen. She hesitantly said, “Craig, I need some help, I …”
I stared and asked, “Are you sure the kid’s mine?” I hoped it was.
She was suddenly angry and threw a pillow at me. “PREGNANT! You think I’m PREGNANT! I have CANCER, you dope! It’s mostly on the left, see? I haven’t even talked to you in over a year!”
My brilliant response was, “Oh.”
She started crying as she said, “I need surgery, expensive medicines, and lots of things. I’ll do more videos, whatever you want. Please? I need at least fifty thousand.”
“Cassie, I’m so sorry! You don’t need to. I’ll give you anything you need! Whatever it takes, I’m here for you. I love you.” I hugged her and cried with her until just before her kids got home. I helped them move in with me the next weekend, since my house had five bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms. To get to the bathroom from her bed at her old place, she needed to walk downstairs.
The second night at my house, I tucked her into bed and walked to the basement to work on my research. I was quite surprised to see her 17-year-old daughter Carrie looking through the videos on the shelves. She said, “You recorded like hundreds of people smoking? Why?”
I told her part of the truth, “Eleven hundred and six, so far. I’m doing research about men with capnolagnia, or smoking fetish. It’s a condition where they like watching people smoke so much that it causes problems.”
“I only see videos of maybe twenty guys, most are women. And like fifty are with Mom.”
“Thirty-eight. I recorded thirty-eight with your Mom.”
“That’s a lot! You only have two or three videos of most of them. You must really like her a lot.”
“I love her so very much! So much more than I can explain!”
“I see a lot with girls who aren’t old enough to smoke, too. Like when Mom was in high school.”
“There are ways around the law. Your Mom wasn’t old enough to buy cigarettes, so I explained the law and told her she shouldn’t steal any of the ones I put on the table in front of her. Then I told her I’m very bad at catching people.” I winked.
Carrie picked up a pack of the extremely long menthol 156’s and asked, “Would you catch me?”
“I uh…” I was very conflicted. I knew that Cassie wouldn’t want her daughter smoking, and it would be wrong of me to allow it. However, I still had my severe fetish.
I sighed and admitted, “I’d make a terrible cop.” She laughed as I set a lighter and another pack on the table near her. I talked and joked with her for hours while I watched her smoke. She had a great sense of humor like her mother but was even more attractive than Cassie had been at the same age. She was only 17, but it took most of my willpower to avoid touching or flirting with her. Each night Cassie would go to bed early, saying the medicines made her tired. Carrie and I would make sure her younger sister Sherry was in her room, then we would go down to the basement again.
Cassie had the surgery, chemo, and many other procedures. A month later it was clear she was getting worse no matter what the doctors tried. I visited her hospital room one afternoon with Carrie. Her younger daughter was at soccer practice. Cassie said, “I know I don’t have long. I hope you’ll take care of my girls, Craig. You’re weird, but I know you’re at least mostly a good man. Will you marry Carrie and be Sherry’s dad? Please? Carrie can get married now, she’s 18.”
I didn’t even look at Carrie. I just stared in Cassie’s eyes and said, “Anything for you. Absolutely anything.” I held her hand and kissed her.
Carrie cleared her throat. “Ahem. Don’t I get a say in this?”
Her mother asked, “Please give him a chance? When he lived with us before he took good care of you and your sister. I know he’s a great guy! He really is!”
“But, Mom, he’s SO OLD!”
She was right. Sherry had only turned 18 a few days before, and I was 46.
“Carrie, please? He has a big house and lots of money. He can easily take care of you two. At least go on a date with him and give him a chance?”
Carrie sighed deeply and paused a moment. Finally, she said, “Okay, I’ll give him a chance.”
As we were walking across the parking lot on our way out, Carrie giggled and held my hand. “I didn’t think it would be so easy! She WANTS me to marry you! She’s been pushing me to date you since my birthday!”
I said, “I’ll take great care of you and your sister. I’ll get you anything you need and nearly anything you could ever want.”
She cutely smiled and asked, “Will you catch Sherry? She smokes now too.”
That night I sat in the hot tub with them, joking and chatting as the beautiful teen sisters shared half a pack of cigarettes. I recorded Carrie and Sherry smoking in their swimsuits that night as the last of my ‘research.’ As we went to bed, Carrie asked me, “Do you want to record us a lot, like you did with Mom?”
“I want to marry you. If we’re going to be together for life, I can watch you all the time. What’s the point?” I put my cameras in a closet and rarely took them out again. That was the last time I recorded anybody smoking.
After the wedding and Cassie’s funeral, we drove around the country to recover from our grief. In a town near Yellowstone, we stopped for lunch at a café. On the way out, I saw a shop advertising, “VAPE – the better smoke!” I was curious and led the girls in. I bought half a dozen vape pens, several flavors of juices for them to try, and all the accessories. When we finished charging and setting up the vapes that night, the girls were overjoyed. Most of the juices tasted and smelled much better than real cigarettes.
When we got home, I did some research and discovered they were probably much healthier than tobacco too. One group of doctors said they weren’t proven to be totally safe yet but should be at least ten times ‘less bad’ than cigarettes. I happily watched my pretty young wife and her little sister vape every day. When Carrie learned she was pregnant, she wanted to quit. The morality of the situation really hit me. I loved watching her smoke or vape, but I wanted to have a healthy baby too. I’m glad she found a middle ground, vaping much less than she used to.
After more than 30 years, I FINALLY completed my dissertation! It proposed a capnolagnia treatment with only three steps, and was met with enthusiastic approval.
1. Marry a smoker.
2. Convince them to vape instead.
3. Screw the heck out of them any time they’re willing.
You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to put that in scientific terms!
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