The two old school friends were on the way to a café in central town, to meet an other "old" school mate who they hadn't seen for almost 15 years. Well, "old" - they were now 35, all of them - Melinda and Sue, who had been close friends since the school days, and Mary who had moved to another town to go to another university.

- Oh, this is gonna be so fun, Sue said and dragged on her cigarette. - I wonder what she looks like; we haven't seen her since we were 19, I think!
- Yeah, and I wonder how she will think WE look like, Melinda laughed. She sucked on her cigarette, too.
- Oh, she was so funny. Can you remember how much she wanted to be a smoker? We started when we were around 15, and she wanted so much to try too, but she just coughed and coughed.
- But she always joined us in the smoking room, Sue filled in. - And every time, I mean every break, every day Monday to Friday, she was in there, chatting with us while we smoked, but after less than a minute she always started to cough.
- Yeah, Melinda laughed, and then she coughed and coughed with her hand cupped over her mouth. Must have been less than half a minute between each coughing. At least four or five times per week, she coughed so her face turned red, and I would guess that at least three times per week, she coughed so she lost her breathe and sounded like her body was turning inside out. But she could never resist going in there with us, and she never left that smoky room before we did, no matter how badly she was coughing.
- And her cough did usually not stop until after a minute after we had left the place. Must have looked funny, us smokers coming out from there, talking as usual followed by her, a non-smoker, coughing and coughing.
They both laughed.

They stepped into the cafe, immediately recognised by their old friend who had arrived just less than a minute before them, waiting for them just inside the entrance. They embraced each other cheerfully, talking eagerly for a while.
- We can sit in the non-smoking area if you like, Mary, Sue said after a while.
- Oh, don't be silly, come on, I've already reserved a table in the smoking area, Mary laughed. Miranda and Sue looked at each other, surprised. Mary coughed twice in her cupped hand, with noticeable, deep and warm rattlings.

After ten minutes with coffee and an incredible amount of exchanged old memories and descriptions of their lives since the good old days, Sue put a cigarette between her lips and Melinda was about to do the same, but she interrupted herself.
- Oh, sorry, Mary, I think you used to have problems with smoke, didn't you?
- Well, it's been a long time since last, haven't it, Mary laughed, took a pack of cigarettes from her purse and put on the table.
- Oh, you smoke too?
- Yeah, I do, and I love it. I started when I was... let's see... we're around 35 now, I was about 32 when I started.
- We were talking, before we met today I mean, about how you were coughing in that smoker's room, do you remember? I almost thought you had some lung problem or so?
- No, I hadn't. (Mary took a long drag, kept the smoke in her closed mouth for a few seconds, then opened her mouth before inhaling.)
- I don't know why I coughed like that, (she exhaled the smoke in a long stream from her lips), I've never had any lung problem. But, I've always been extremely prone to coughing. I must be a professional cougher, she laughed before turning her head and coughing with two deep rattlings again. - This hand has been over my mouth an incredible number of times, she laughed.
- Anyway, she continued, I always wanted SOOOO much to become a smoker. I tried and tried when we were at school, but I would just cough my lungs into pieces. I always admired the two of you in that smoking room, I studied every detail of your smoking styles. The way your hands and fingers worked when putting the cigarette between the lips, during dragging and when removing the cigarette from the lips. And...
She cupped her hand over her mouth and coughed again.
- As I said, she went on, I'm really prone to cough. Can you imagine, I've been smoking for three years, and I've got a smoker's cough already...
- Come on, tell us, Sue interrupted her, how did you start smoke? I mean, did you one day just try and found out you could smoke without coughing? And, how much do you smoke? And... Oh, it feels so TERRIFIC, the three of us, good old friends, finally meeting again and we can smoke together. I love smoking myself, and I know that you, Miranda, does too, and anyone can see that for you, Mary, it's like a passion. Tell us, tell us, she laughed.
- Well, OK, Mary said, obviously a bit proud. - Well, it's simple by the way. At the university, I didn't even think about trying, and when I had my daughter when I was 25, I didn't either, despite the fact that most of my best friends are heavy smokers, especially when we go out together. My husband was a non-smoker, by the way. Anyway, when I was 32 - it was after my divorce - I had a week of my own. You see, Anne, my girl, is a Brett's place one week, then at mine one week and so on. It works perfectly well, by the way. Well, on my way home, I got the idea of trying to smoke again, so I bought myself a pack of Marlboros - none of those light crap cigarettes, this was real things! I lit up, I sucked, noticed the taste on my tongue - and I inhaled! I coughed a little, but it was a kind of reflex due to not being used to it, simply - I didn't recognise at as my "old" cough. So, I smoked that cigarette! Well, I didn't fell quite well after, but it was a question of getting used to it of course. So I trained - and trained - and after that week I - Mary - finally could call myself a smoker! During the weeks when Anne was at my place, I smoked as much as I could at work, only at the balcony in the evenings, but in the other weeks - I'll tell you!

She interrupted herself to light a cigarette.
- Someone of you used the word "passion", and you didn't know how right on the spot you were. I guess it's because I've been dreaming so many times about being a real cigarette smoker that I'm doing what I'm doing in the evenings these weeks when Anne isn't there. I go home, I have dinner, then I sit down in the sofa and switch on the TV, watching some good movie or something. I take a cigarette, I just look at it with love in my eyes for a while, I caress it, then I put it under my nose, right over my nostrils to feel its smell. Then, without lighting it, I put it between my lips and suck on it for a while, I'm almost like kissing it.
- Then, it's time for the lighter (Mary had first been a little afraid that her old friends would look at her like if she was mad but she saw they were completely fascinated by her real-life story). - I light up, suck cigarette smoke into my mouth, let it roll around in my mouth, maybe take another drag, before inhaling slowly and deeply. I keep the smoke in my lungs for between five and ten seconds before breathing it out. You know, releasing the cigarette smoke after it has been captured by my hungry lungs is something I try to do by BREATHING the smoke out, as a part of my normal breathing. I try not to BLOW the smoke out like if it was something I wanted to get rid of and never see again. You know, this smoke, which is my pair of lungs' best friend, and my lungs are actually MY best friends, is something that I want to say good-bye to carefully after each exhale, it isn't something to be thrown away.

- Oh, what a fantastic way to see it, Sue almost moaned. - I'm getting a bad conscience for all the smoke I've been blowing out like the chimney of some old factory.
- Yeah, I feel the same way, Melinda said and sighed. - Are you going to do that this evening, for instance, she asked? I almost would like to watch you, I mean not necessarily tonight, but some other time, but maybe it doesn't work if you're not alone?
- Exactly, Mary said and coughed three times in her hand. Her rattlings sounded lovely and warm. - It isn't the same when I smoke at work, or when I'm sitting here with you. I mean, I always love smoking a cigarette but when I'm alone - it's a relation between me, my smoky lungs and my cigarette. Do you know something? I start at about half past seven and eight in the evening, then I keep going, smoking in my passionated way, cigarette - after cigarette - after cigarette until bedtime. Mmmm, my lungs are so satisfied when we go to bed together, Mary finished her story and smiled with a expression in her face filled with satisfaction and with passion.
- What about your smoking then? I almost went from being a non-smoker to smoking two packs per day in two months. How much do you two smoke? Any sign of smoker's cough?, Mary asked curiously.
- Well, for me, I try not to smoke more than one pack a day. A little cough in the mornings only, I mean I have to clear my throat by coughing for half a minute or something, Sue said.
- Yeah, me too, Miranda added, one pack only. I'm clearing my throat quite often, but... by the way, Mary, do you mean, a week like this when you're alone, do you spend one or two evenings smoking like that or did you mean... more? Miranda could hardly talk about anything else than Mary's passion for smoking.
- Well, quite often, it's seven evenings outt of seven, Mary smiled happily. I sometimes decide to go home to do it rather than going out with friends, actually. Oh, I just sit there on the sofa, and... you know what... if I'm really into it, I lie down on the sofa and just fill my lungs with smoke, time after time.
- Do you... you told us how you start a cigarette, I mean kissing it or whatever, but ... do you have any similar ritual when finishing it?
Mary thought for a short while. - No, actually not. I just crush it in the ash-tray, then, either directly or after about a minute, I put the next one between my fingers... Good question, actually - yeah, I must invent a decent way of saying goodbye to a beloved cigarette!

It was time to say good-bye, but they exchanged phone numbers and addresses and decided to meet again soon. Mary went home, had dinner, made some phone calls before she switched off the light in the TV room - only some smaller lamps were on - , switched on the TV and turned down the volume. She was about to sit down in the sofa when she suddenly felt even more passionated than usual. She took a cigarette between her fingers and got up from the sofa. She took her skirt off and went over to the big mirror on the wall. She opened her white shirt and looked at her own, naked chest. She coughed a little in her cupped, soft hand before massaging her chest with the finger tips.
- Hello, my lungs, she said in a low, sexy voice. - Ohhh, my smoky, sweet lungs. You're so hungry, so hungry now, and it's time for me to feed you. She started to cough again and after coughing four times in her hand, with her nice rattling, she continued talking.
- Oh, my sweet cough. I've been longing for you, because you're my best friend together with my lungs. And do you know what? The only way for me to get to know you better, my soft, warm cough, is to feed these lungs with more and more cigarette smoke. Because I want you to be with me much more often. I want to cough more and more, and soon, because I just can't wait...
She caressed her chest with the cigarette for a while before teasing her lips with it. Finally, she put it between her lips after having touched herself around and over her nostrils with it. She lit the cigarette and took a slow triple drag, before inhaling. She closed her eyes as she felt she smoke inside herself, then opened them again. With her eyes locked into the eyes in the mirror, she let her nose transport the smoke from her lungs into the air.
She walked over to the sofa and lay down on her back. Mary smoked the cigarette with deep, heavy drags followed by long, breath-holding inhales. She never "blew" the smoke out, she made sure to really breathe it out without forcing it. She then smoked cigarette after cigarette the same way for a whole hour. Sometimes, she had to cough and she either cupped her sweet hand over her mouth or put the cigarette in the ash-tray to cup both her hands up over her sweet nose.
- Mmmmm, she moaned after almost each coughing time. After a while, she got up from the sofa and walked back to the mirror. She felt the urge to cough, and cupped both hands up over her nose. After coughing, she slowly let the fingers slide down before releasing the hands.
- Mmmm, me and my lungs get along so well together, she moaned. - Mmmmm, my lungs, I want to go to bed with you know, and do you know what I want to do? I want to make love with you. I want to have sex with my lungs and I want my lovely cough to be there to, because I get - so - wet - when I feel my own, warm rattlings in my chest, she moaned. She walked into the bedroom, undressed and lay down between the sheets. She was embracing her own chest with her arms, sometimes she massaged her chest between her throat and her breasts. Everytime she felt she was about to cough, she forced it back. After a while, she moved up a bit from the bed and moved closer to the ash-tray she had put on a chair just beside the bed. It was full of cigarette butts and when she felt she was close to her climax, she grabbed all the butts (there were really plenty of them, more than a handful of them actually), squeezed them intensively between her hands before pressing them with her fingers over her nostrils and mouth, inhaling intensively. She then removed her hands, put the butts back in the ash tray and let her cough loose, and coughed and caressed herself into an overwhelming orgasm before falling asleep. A few thoughts crossed her mind quickly before falling asleep:
- I must meet Sue and Miranda soon again ... Mmm, I hope Anne have sweet dreams ... Mmmm, good night my lungs, I love you so much and I want to marry the two of you... we'll meet again tomorrow night, don't be afraid, it's a promise...