Mika lay on her bed, ashtray sitting beside her and took a long drag on her Newport. It was mid-August, and she'd been a smoker for two months now, and she loved those cigarettes like a new best friend. Cheek-hollowing drags and deep inhales on every one, and her relatively new discovery, the double pump, where she would exhale a lungful of smoke out her nose while simultaneously dragging on her cigarette. She didn't just love every light up, every drag and every cigarette - in a way what she probably loved most was looking forward to her next one, the craving that would build, first in her unconscious, scratching its way to the front of her brain, starting to set her on fire until she could satisfy it. And satisfy that addiction she did: she easily smoked a pack a day already.
One little personal secret about her cravings that she hadn't shared with anyone? As she anticipated her next cigarette, she'd sometimes get turned on. Her pussy would actually start to get wet, and if she had to go a really long time, she'd almost cum when she inhaled that first drag. Another secret? While she'd had sex with two different guys - one longish-term boyfriend during high school and once with a guy who used to work at the coffee shop - nothing she did with them ever got her as hot as she'd get sometimes waiting for a cigarette and then smoking it. How weird was that? She had her best orgasms fingering herself while smoking or thinking about smoking.
Marin, Mika's mother and a fellow dedicated smoker, had warned her that the nicotine addiction would sneak up on her, and while it certainly did (actually, it didn't sneak, it hit her in the head with a bat), Mika had not a single regret - she loved smoking, and she didn't care whether people were troubled by her smoking, made faces about it, she just didn't care. It was her thing, and no one, not even one of her closest friends who had kind of turned her back on Mika when she found out, was going to talk her out of her joy. Most of her friends, and especially her barista co-workers, were great, though, and Mika took particular pleasure in hanging out with other smokers, a couple of whom had the smoking bug as badly (or joyfully?) as she did.
There was one thing that really bothered her, though. Her mother kept her fully stocked with cigarettes, never saying a negative word after Mika had made her decision to start, always having an open carton of their shared brand from which either could take a new pack anytime, but it bugged the snot out of Mika that she was 18, working more than full time, headed off to college, and it was illegal for her to buy cigarettes until she was 21. It was nuts, to her, that she could work, vote, enlist in the armed forces, etc., but couldn't buy a goddamned pack of cigarettes.
One morning almost to her first break of the work day, Mika was craving a cigarette badly. She always loved chaining two (sometimes three) with a couple of her friends after the morning rush at the coffee shop. She'd have her cigarette dangling from her lips and her lighter flicking as she backed out the door, sometimes lighting up before she got outside. As she made her way down the back hall to her salvation, she opened her pack and realized that, like an idiot, she had one cigarette left and had forgotten to grab an extra pack.
"Shit," she whispered harshly to herself as she lit up, "what an idiot. I can't get through the day without cigarettes."
Julie, her fellow barista, came out to have a cigarette, too, She offered Mika one of hers when Mika had finished her first Newport. Mika thanked her and lit up, but really did not like the Marlboro Light. At all. The nicotine didn't hit her, and the non-menthol flavor was really not her taste after months of those strong Newports. Yikes - this was not going to cut it, even for one shift. Not that she didn't smoke it down to the filter, though. Mika resolved to go the the convenience store a half-block away at the beginning of her lunch break to buy a pack of her own brand.
Mika walked into the mini-mart just as cool and comfortable as could be and asked for a pack of Newports. The clerk, a 16 year old kid, looked at her and asked her for ID. Mika sighed and said she'd forgotten it, but said she was 21 and had smoked forever (she wished both were true) and could he please sell her a pack.
"We got fined last week - the state sent in undercover kids, and the weekend guy sold cigarettes to them, so my boss laid down the law - I'd get fired."
By this point, Mika was about over the edge with her need to smoke, "c'mon, man, please," she asked, doing her best to be a bit flirty, hoping that would work. But it didn't, the kid was a rock.
Which left Mika with a problem. A major problem. Since about a week into her life as a smoker, Mika hadn't gone more than a couple of hours without a cigarette - she had literally never at any point been unable to satisfy her craving. The only times she didn't instantly light up when she felt like it were when she was at work, where she still had very frequent breaks, and, if she was honest, when she was enjoying being turned on by the anticipation of the satisfaction of a cigarette and stretched out the smoking interval on purpose while playing with her pussy.
Turning out the door of the mini mart, Mika headed around the corner of the store. She practically barreled into a beefy guy headed from his pickup truck into the store.
"Shit!" Mika said, distractedly "I'm sorry."
"Whoa, slow down honey," the guy said. "Are you okay."
"Of course I'm ok," Mika snapped, "why?"
"You just came flying out of the store looking pissed off and frustrated. Sorry. Nothing personal, babe," he said with a shake of his head.
"Sorry," Mika said more sincerely, "the kid wouldn't sell me a fucking pack of cigarettes because I'm 18, not 21," Mika said, suddenly spewing all of her frustration and the growing tension of her nicotine fit, "I smoke like a fucking chimney, I love smoking, I'm having a fucking nicotine fit and that little shit won't sell me my Newports," Mika's voice was rising and becoming more emotional.
"Hold up, baby, let me help you out. I'll get 'em for you, whaddya want?" The guy offered.
