Posted by Mark on July 9, 2007, 22:48:45 Instigating this lust was my summer job as a mail carrier in my hometown, which produced this entry in my top-10 list involving a girl who worked at the gas station across the street from the post office. The post office had an exclusive account with this one full-service station, so the carriers always topped off their tanks here. Throughout the summer as I drove by this station several times a day, I found it intriguing that the primary daytime employees at the station included an older man in his 50's or 60's and a smokin' hot short-haired 18-year-old blonde who could usually be counted upon to wear short shorts and tight chest-hugging tanktops and/or spaghetti strap shirts. It was wickedly hot to witness....and also nice to visit on Saturday when the blonde would work there with other part-time teenage girls, who were also apparently corrupted by blondie as they would routinely step out for smoke breaks as well. But the pinnacle of my encounter with this girl didn't even stem from a tobacco consumption sighting. When I went to fill up my tank one day, the older guy took my request, but beckoned his subordinate to do the dirty work. The blonde nicotine fiend proceeded to fill up my gas tank....and then checked the oil, wash and scrub the large front windshield on the postal jeep as I sat in the jeep relaxing and watching. Her scantily packaged feminine form shifted, wiggled, and gyrated only a couple feet in front of my eyes and she cleaned the jeep's windshield....and even then when my fetish hadn't completely risen above the surface, all I could think about is what a shame it was that that windshield was separating us lest I would be able to smell the wondrous aroma of tobacco that undoubtedly clung to what little bit of clothing draped her assets. Even so, I was sufficiently aroused having my sense of sight graced by this young lady's presence even if my sense of smell wasn't quite as lucky. #7--I had had a number of impressive youthful sightings in my elementary and junior high years, but it wasn't until the day after Thanksgiving 1990 when it was abundantly clear there was no turning back for me. A shuttle bus from my hometown transported a bunch of us rural rednecks, including my mom, grandmother, an aunt, a cousin, and a 13-year-old Mark to downtown Minneapolis for holiday shopping. The whole biggest-shopping-day-of-the-year affair was somewhat in play back in 1990, but not nearly to the extent it is now. Nonetheless, this day would be a fetish bonanza for me in a couple different ways. Right away in the morning, I was in line for food at the city center mall and happened to look over my shoulder to see a really cute 16-ish African-American girl sitting in the mall's food court smoking an all-white cigarette, a nice appetizer for a delicious main course I'd be feasting upon at the day's end. A few hours later, my mom and I were walking down the crowded downtown streets to visit another store when we bump into a group of animal-rights activists, and my mom is handed a piece of propaganda by a 19-ish long-haired brunette goddess draped head to toe in leather...leather beret....leather jacket...leather mini-skirt...and leather boots. My leather fetish was pretty much born that day, and apparently with no sense of irony at all, the cutie passionately exclaims to my mom, "Please don't wear fur coats!" as she hands her the brochure. But it was the end of the day, while waiting on the busiest street corner in Minneapolis for our shuttle bus to pick us up, that I scored the first rock-star sighting of my life in its entirety. Amidst the crowd, I happened to look inside the entryway of the Dayton's department store to find three teenage girls smoking freshly lit cigarettes. Two of them appeared to be about 16 or 17 and a bit edgy for my taste, but the little one was almost assuredly my age (13), probably the kid sister of one or both of the older girls, and was absolutely beautiful, with a long mane of light brown hair running down her back, reminding me of my oft-cited junior high crush Krissy right when my crush on Krissy was at its peak. I wasn't an expert on smoker technique back then, but I was able to glance over my shoulder and watch this seventh grade cutie's every drag, and it was clear that smoking wasn't a brand new enterprise for her. I'm almost certain I was spotted as I couldn't resist leering over my shoulder to watch her smoke this cigarette puff by puff, and eventually dropping it to the floor (and keep in mind this was in the entryway to Dayton's) and crushing it out under her shoe. The girls were standing inside another five minutes or so, and I kept hoping my little beauty queen would fire up another one but she and the older girls departed, walking no more than 10 feet in front of me and allowing me a closeup glance at just how hot she was, and sadly disappearing in the urban foot traffic. Our bus arrived shortly arrived, but even though I parted ways from this girl and the big city in which she resided, her public display of tobacco consumption was one of the most formative moments of a blossoming smoking fetish.
64.12.117.14
#8--While I wasn't aware of the existence of a "smoking fetish" in the summer of 1998, it was all but a formality for me to get in touch with it as I was lusting for nicotine girls every day and making conscious efforts to see them in my daily routine.
It didn't take long to realize that both of them were smokers, and at least twice a week I would drive by the station and see the blonde puffing on a cigarette. About half of the time she was completely outside of the station, but the other half of the time, she would be carrying a conversation with either a customer or co-worker at the nonsmoking office, but would hold her "cigarette hand" just out the door, opening the door slightly to ingest a stiff drag of carcinogen-laced tobacco and then deposit the exhale out the door.
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