An incredible story, I guess; I got the idea after reading about one of these actions against fur coats. Teenagers, or at least very young men and women sometimes react against killing furred animals, and this time some of them had locked themselves, naked, outside a furrier's shop using chains, according to the paper.
I was walking home through the town after a party. It was an unusually warm evening, but in this part of town everyone seemed to have gone to bed. Well, not everyone. I didn't believe my eyes. Outside the furrier's shop, I saw a naked, young woman sitting. What the...? Was she drunk, was she ill or what? No, she looked up at me when I started to cross the street. She looked like she was 18 or maybe 20. She was fairly tall, she had brown, straight long hair, normal weight, pale, white skin and... as I said... she was NAKED. Her arms were locked in chains, and the chains were in some way locked in the iron gate, which were there to protect from actions by these anti-fur coat-activists. I noticed she had quite an attractive, even sexy face. I liked the way her pale, long, a bit wide nose let its nose tip almost point towards me.
- Well well, I said to her, what are we doing here then?
- It's an action against the animal killers, she said sharply.
- I see, I said. - So you are going to sit here alone the whole night?
- Of course I am.
- Naked?
- Of course!
- And you can't move?
- I can't move.
- Not even your arms?
- Noone can make me leave without removing these thick chains first.
I turned around and looked around us. The windows were dark, not
a soul in the streets except for me and the naked woman.
- Good, I smiled, and gently caressed her right breast. It was
quite big, soft and hanged a little.
Her face got a bit red.
- What... are you... doing?, she wheezed.
- Well, you said you couldn't move, I whispered. - What do you
expect me to believe when you're sitting here like this, I went on,
and lifted her warm, soft, right breast up a little. Suddenly,
I couldn't resist that nose that I found so exciting and caressed
the long, large sides carefully. Suddenly I noticed a little red packet
behind her. Marlboro reds.
- How can you smoke when your arms are locked, I asked her.
- I can't, she wheezed. Her fear was gone and the angry, wild rebel
was back. - Oh, I'm so hungry for a cigarette, she wheezed again.
I took the packet and picked a cigarette from it.
- Aren't you anti-this and anti-that people anti-tobacco too?
- Shut up, she growled.
I gave her a disappointed glance and put the cigarette back in the packet.
She understood I was playing with her and apparently decided not to
start to beg me or anything. She refused to look into my eyes and stared
angrily anywhere else. I again took the cigarette and made a gesture like
if I was going to put it between her big lips, then I pretended that I had
changed my mind and put it back in the packet. She started to breathe
heavily and I, for the third time, took the cigarette from the packet.
I held it under her long nostrils and let her smell it. I let the
end of the cigarette touch her right nostril and I moved the filter
along the nostril, back and forth. She inhaled deeply.
- Well, you don't have a lighter, do you, I pointed out, and pretended
that I was leaving her. - Sorry, I said, caressed her over her cheek and
started to leave.
- I'm sitting on it, she wheezed and her face was even more pale.
The young, brave rebel was so angry so her face was almost white.
She tried to move a little but it was difficult, so I had to get the
lighter out from under her body, which I of course enjoyed and never
tried to hide. "You..." she wheezed and her face was whiter than white.
What I tried to hide, and managed to, was that it was something with her
that I had started to like. She was certainly attractive, and full of
energy. Now, that lighter was one of the more powerful things I had
ever had in my hand. I put the cigarette between her lips.
- Are these lungs so hungry that you can't live without it?, I
whispered and caressed her over the chest, right over the beginning
of her breasts. Her lips was sucking eagerly on the cigarette and I
put the lighter right under it. Click... click... click... nothing
happened. I shaked it a little. Click... click...
- Seems to be out of function. You don't happen to sit on another one,
do you?, I smiled and started to investigate it, without waiting for an
answer.
- Will you stop that, she wheezed wildly. - That lighter worked
one hour ago.
- Well, it doesn't seem to now, I lied because I had been pulling
her legs.
I removed the cigarette from her sweet lips, even if they tried to
keep it back. I looked at the wet filter before putting it between
my own lips. I tried the lighter again after shaking it another time.
Click... click... and the cigarette was lit. I don't smoke myself,
so I didn't inhale, I just sucked on it and blow the smoke out with
a face expression full of satisfaction. Then I moved closed to her, sucked
again and blew a tight stream in her young, beautiful face. She looked
irritated but I noticed how she inhaled deeply. Another sucking, and I
blew a thin stream towards her nostrils from close. She instinctively
closed her mouth and inhaled.
- OK, I said, I'll give you ONE chance, only one, to suck on this
cigarette. Do you understand? She nodded. I placed the cigarette between
her lips.
- So, suck for as long as you can then, I whispered, and she did.
She sucked until her cheeks caved in. - Suck again, I whispered,
and she did until her cheeks again caved in. - A last one, I said,
and she inhaled all the smoke before sucking and a little portion of smoke
escaped from those cute nostrils. Finally, I removed the cigarette and
she inhaled the last part and closed her eyes while I caressed her chest,
which was now full of cigarette smoke. She breathed out after
about ten seconds, producing a cloud from her mouth and nose before
opening her eyes. Her next exhale sent out some more smoke, but there
was still cigarette smoke in her lungs because her next exhale,
done with the mouth shut, showed some more from her nostrils. I looked
carefully at the nostrils the next time she exhaled but no more smoke.
Her lungs were empty now, but they probably smelled from smoke.
I crushed out the rest of the cigarette and she just stared at it.
- What are you doing, she started to wheeze but her voice trembled
at the last word and the brave, wild rebel started to weep like a tired
child. I put an arm around her and caressed her cheek.
- Let's get you out of her and put some clothes on, I said, before
someone sees you.
I took a look at the chain and suddenly realized it wasn't locked
at all, it must be easy to untie it. I wondered if she knew.
I got up from the sidewalk and pretended like I was leaving.
- Come on, let's go, I said.
- But I can't! I told you.
It wasn't the voice of the rebel anymore, it was just the one of a
young woman, though sitting naked outside a shop of course. I understood
she wasn't playing, so I untied the chains behind her and lifted her up.
She just stared at the chains.
- How on earth did you...
- Call me Houdini, I smiled and put my coat on her. She was still
so shaken by what had happened that she forgot the fear she had first
felt when I had started to touch her, so she came with me up to my
apartment. I lent her a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and I let her
smoke cigarette after a cigarette while we chatted before she left.
She soon came back, and after a couple of years, she could call
herself Mrs Jones. A fantastic woman today, and one of the best things
is that I don't have to spend money on buying her a fur coat...