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Bailey Brooks: Secret Smoker
Tenth-grade cutie Bailey Brooks is a new--and passionate--smoker. As her desire and craving for nicotine continues to blossom, she strives to hide her habit from her mom. It doesn't help that Mom detests Bailey's best friend, bad girl Chandler, and that her quasi-boyfriend is a drug-dealing high school dropout. Additionally, beautiful Bailey has to fend off the advances of a stalking neighbor who is captivated by her overtly sexy smoking. Whew! It's not as easy as you might think, being a gorgeous rich girl with so many skeletons in the closet!
Excerpt
Herman had always had kind of a thing for pretty young girls who smoked cigarettes. And the Brooks girl was pretty—enormously so—and she was certainly young.
She was a very seductive smoker as well. The drags she took on her cigarettes were long, heavy ones, and the streams of smoke that she produced were really quite prodigious. As far as Herman could tell, the girl went out of her way to see how much smoke she could pull into her lungs. She truly was grade A entertainment, this hot little thing who smoked each cigarette like it was her final one.
And now, within the last couple of months, a new development had taken Herman’s world by storm. The Brooks girl had begun to take walks at all hours of the day and night, walks that always and without fail included smoking a cigarette. Or two.
Excerpt
Mrs. Brooks had her right hand resting on the bed, palm down, fingers spread. As soon as Bailey was standing right in front of her, she lifted her hand. Underneath it was a red, half-empty pack of Marlboros. “I found these in your purse.”
Gulp! “You . . . what the hell was you doin’ in my purse?!”
“Obviously, I had good reason to be suspicious. So. I take it you’re smoking now? And that you’ve been lying to me all this time?”
“Oh no, hell no, Mom! Shit! Those . . .” Bailey pointed a less-than-steady forefinger at the offending cigarettes. “They’re not even mine, Mom, I swear. Chan, she stashed ‘em in my purse right before Study Hall. I totally forgot I even had ‘em, you know?”
“Look me in the eye,” said Mrs. Brooks. Without so much as a blink, Bailey stared directly into her mother’s orbs. “Put your hand on your heart.” Bailey slapped her right hand over her left breast. “Now. Tell me the truth.”
Bailey spoke evenly and insistently. “Mom. Listen to me. Read my f---ing lips. I . . . am . . . not . . . smoking. I totally swear to God, I’ve not smoked a single goddamn cigarette this whole entire year. Never.” Bailey gripped both of her mother’s shoulders. “Mom, you gotta believe me. I swear to God, I’ve not been smoking. Okay? I’ve worked too damn hard to be able to get a car for my birthday. I’m not gonna f--k it up now just to smoke!”
Mrs. B. licked her lips, frowning. “I want to be able to trust you, Bailey. And I . . . I ‘ve always felt like I can do just that.” She sighed heavily. “One more time. You promise you’ve not been smoking?”
“I promise I promise I promise, Mom! I swear to God and Jesus and all the angels and anybody else who’s up there!”
Mother actually smiled. She stood and gave her daughter a quick hug. “Okay, I’m good. Thanks for clearing that up.” She dangled the Marlboro packet from her fingers. “But I’m throwing these goddamn things away. Chandler’s just going to have to buy some new ones.”
Bailey stood on tiptoes and kissed her mom’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom. Always remember—you can trust me. Totally.”
As the door to the bedroom closed behind Mrs. Brooks, Bailey collapsed backwards onto the bed. Her heart was going a mile a minute. She heaved a monstrous sigh, thinking Oh holy Jesus, she bought it. Un f---ing believable, she actually bought it!
This story is intended for Smoking Fetishists. If that is who you are, you're going to love it. If, however, you feel you would be offended by a story that glorifies teenaged smoking, please steer clear.
Excerpt
Herman had always had kind of a thing for pretty young girls who smoked cigarettes. And the Brooks girl was pretty—enormously so—and she was certainly young.
She was a very seductive smoker as well. The drags she took on her cigarettes were long, heavy ones, and the streams of smoke that she produced were really quite prodigious. As far as Herman could tell, the girl went out of her way to see how much smoke she could pull into her lungs. She truly was grade A entertainment, this hot little thing who smoked each cigarette like it was her final one.
And now, within the last couple of months, a new development had taken Herman’s world by storm. The Brooks girl had begun to take walks at all hours of the day and night, walks that always and without fail included smoking a cigarette. Or two.
Excerpt
Mrs. Brooks had her right hand resting on the bed, palm down, fingers spread. As soon as Bailey was standing right in front of her, she lifted her hand. Underneath it was a red, half-empty pack of Marlboros. “I found these in your purse.”
Gulp! “You . . . what the hell was you doin’ in my purse?!”
“Obviously, I had good reason to be suspicious. So. I take it you’re smoking now? And that you’ve been lying to me all this time?”
“Oh no, hell no, Mom! Shit! Those . . .” Bailey pointed a less-than-steady forefinger at the offending cigarettes. “They’re not even mine, Mom, I swear. Chan, she stashed ‘em in my purse right before Study Hall. I totally forgot I even had ‘em, you know?”
“Look me in the eye,” said Mrs. Brooks. Without so much as a blink, Bailey stared directly into her mother’s orbs. “Put your hand on your heart.” Bailey slapped her right hand over her left breast. “Now. Tell me the truth.”
Bailey spoke evenly and insistently. “Mom. Listen to me. Read my f---ing lips. I . . . am . . . not . . . smoking. I totally swear to God, I’ve not smoked a single goddamn cigarette this whole entire year. Never.” Bailey gripped both of her mother’s shoulders. “Mom, you gotta believe me. I swear to God, I’ve not been smoking. Okay? I’ve worked too damn hard to be able to get a car for my birthday. I’m not gonna f--k it up now just to smoke!”
Mrs. B. licked her lips, frowning. “I want to be able to trust you, Bailey. And I . . . I ‘ve always felt like I can do just that.” She sighed heavily. “One more time. You promise you’ve not been smoking?”
“I promise I promise I promise, Mom! I swear to God and Jesus and all the angels and anybody else who’s up there!”
Mother actually smiled. She stood and gave her daughter a quick hug. “Okay, I’m good. Thanks for clearing that up.” She dangled the Marlboro packet from her fingers. “But I’m throwing these goddamn things away. Chandler’s just going to have to buy some new ones.”
Bailey stood on tiptoes and kissed her mom’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom. Always remember—you can trust me. Totally.”
As the door to the bedroom closed behind Mrs. Brooks, Bailey collapsed backwards onto the bed. Her heart was going a mile a minute. She heaved a monstrous sigh, thinking Oh holy Jesus, she bought it. Un f---ing believable, she actually bought it!
This story is intended for Smoking Fetishists. If that is who you are, you're going to love it. If, however, you feel you would be offended by a story that glorifies teenaged smoking, please steer clear.
80 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 21, 2016
5 people want to read
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