As I sit at the picnic table eating my lunch, I watch all the different people mill around in the park.
I notice a woman at another table, with her nose buried in a textbook of some sort. She pauses, and turns her face upwards, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face. She looks to be in her twenties. She has long blonde hair, is dressed in a white blouse and black pants, has long fingernails, and is wearing red lipstick.
A man walks up, and sits down with her, and engages in conversation. Watching the two of them talk, I begin to wonder what this woman is like. I picture her at home, with soft music, reading quietly while petting her cat. Nothing wild and crazy about this woman.
The thought of her simple innocent lifestyle makes me smile, and has me wishing I was the man sitting there making her laugh.
The man stands, and she stands to give him a sweet hug, and smiles as she waves bye to him.
Then she leans over and starts looking through her bag for something. A pencil? Gum? To my surprise, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and sets them on the table.
She takes one out, and I see it’s one of those long skinny cigarettes. Slowly, she lifts it to her mouth, and inserts it between her red painted lips.
Seeing her differently now, my mind reels. She’s not so sweet and innocent after all. She lifts a lighter up, and with an audible click, a flame dances up to greet the tip of her smoke.
Watching her breasts rise as her chest expands, I become even more fascinated with her. She sets her lighter down, and reaches up and slides her forefinger and middle finger around the white filter and closes them, grasping it between the first and second knuckles.
As she pulls the cigarette from her mouth, her lips stick a little to the filter, giving her a pouty look for a brief moment. Then, slowly, she exhales. Smoke floats through her soft, sultry lips in a lazy haze, and drifts away into the sunshine. She sits down on the table top, placing her feet on the bench beneath her. As she raises her hand to her mouth to suck in her next puff, she looks around the park, watching people as they pass by. Softly, slowly, she wraps her beautiful lips around the cigarette, and her cheeks bow inward slightly as she sucks on the tip. Pulling the cigarette away from her mouth, I can see the smoke floating around in her. Making an “O” with her lips, her jaw makes little jumps as she puffs smoke rings out of her mouth.
In a daze, I watch the rings slowly float up into the air, their shape changing as they travel away from her. I look at this girl sitting on the table, and start to notice the way she flips her hair behind her when she sees a man walking by, and the way her legs are slightly spread open as she leans back on the table, her feet mindlessly moving in small circles. I feel a stirring in my pants, watching this “good girl” change right before my eyes. Suddenly she seems more sultry, seductive and mysterious.
Again she pulls the cigarette into her mouth, and I can see the tip of it turn red as she inhales the smoke. I imagine what it must look like inside her, swirling around, billowing into her chest. She opens her mouth, and I watch the smoke float from her mouth and into her nose. As she performing this French inhale just for me, she turns her head, and looks right at me. She smiles, as she blows the rest of the smoke out of her in a cloud just in front of her face.
I know that she can see me staring at her, but I can’t stop. I smile back shyly, hoping that she can’t see my pants tenting, betraying me by demonstrating how excited I am over such a simple gesture.
Her arm comes up, and she leans back on her elbow, holding her slim, sleek cigarette out for me to see. She starts moving it around in her hand, holding it between her thumb and forefinger, and flicking the ashes off with the tip of her ring finger. All the while, she is looking my way, smiling, as if inviting me to come over and talk to her. She then puts the cigarette back between her forefinger and middle finger, and sucks on it again. As she exhales, she tilts her head back, and arches her back, thrusting her chest out.
Unable to resist, I leave my lunch and walk over and introduce myself. She smiles but doesn’t say anything to me. She turns towards me, and inhales off her cigarette again, letting the smoke ooze out of her mouth, and float up, the curly tendrils being broken as they move through her soft hair. She takes another drag, and blows the smoke in my face, and I breathe it in, taking in her breath, her smoke, being a part of her experience.
Suddenly I realize that she is looking at my groin, and it occurs to me that my stiffness is showing, but I don’t care anymore, I am so mesmerized by her. Taking another puff off her cigarette, she blows out the exhaust in a big puffy cloud onto my strained pants. The sight of her smoke clinging to my pants so close to my body nearly sends me over the edge. I want this woman, and she knows it. Smiling, she stands up and faces me, then holds the cigarette between her lips as she turns away and bends down to gather her things. The smoke from the tip of the cigarette is trailing upwards, surrounding her like a fog on a crisp morning. Standing upright, she takes a deep drag, and pulls the cigarette out of her mouth, tosses it onto the ground, and steps on it. She steps in very close to me, so close I could touch her, winks, and turns and walks away, without a word.