A joy to behold

She was a perfect specimen of Woman -- tall, slender, with rich, dark, brown hair, a petite little face and tight shorts around her firm, kissable, sweet rump.

As she strode forward down the sidewalk, accompanied by two very lucky friends, I deeply inhaled the cigarette smoke that she spilled from her rosebud lips. The finest perfume on earth could not have compared to that ambrosial mist that she breathed forth. To think that this very smoke drifting upon the humid air, had seconds before been hidden deep within her lungs, sending pleasure waves through her body -- had touched her, filled her, deep within, more intimately than even the most passionate lover could ever hope to do!

And now, having satisfied her need, having delivered the precious nicotine for which she hungered, the sweet smoke mingled with her own breath and ascended the pretty chimney of her throat to fill again her mouth, roll across her tongue, dance around her teeth and escape through the doorway of her lips!

And the very essence of it, the same smoke and sweet breath that had kissed her deep within, now found its way to my eager senses, and I drank it in joyfully.

And my non-smoking, non-capnolagniac friend who happened to be with me, waved his portion away in annoyance. Uncomprehending, unaware -- as clueless as the barbarians who burned the books of the European monastaries because they could not read them.

The Goddess took a final drag and threw her cigarette away still burning, into the street, as a Goddess should. A Goddess is not bound by mortal rules about proper disposal of her cigarette. If it be her pleasure to drop it to the ground and crush it beneath her heel, so be it; if it be her pleasure to simply throw it away, so be it.

Were I unaccompanied, I might have scampered like a little mouse over to that morsel of her pleasure and carried it away and inhaled its last stray vapors in the privacy of my car, kissing the tip where her lips had so recently rested.

But alas, I was not alone. Rarely am I alone when such ecstatic moments come my way. I do believe I could return to that very spot on my own and wait four days, and nothing but old men and stray dogs would pass by me.