Cigarettes Are a Girl's Best Friend

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13-year-old Jimmy gets caught dressing in his mother's clothes and smoking her cigarettes. Is he a big girl now?

Cigarettes Are a Girl's Best Friend

by slimv


Jimmy dangled his legs off the edge of his mother's bed as he watched her get ready for her date with Bob. She was sitting at her vanity, brushing her blonde hair. A long white cigarette dangled from her lips. He squinted to see the telltale ring of lipstick around the filter as she placed it to rest in the ashtray.

At 13, he was short and small for his age. His size, along with his shoulder length blonde hair had made him a target for the bullies in his school. His frame was slight, but his hormones raged--a symptom of his puberty, according to his mother.

Girls, women in particular, fascinated him. He admired and envied them. Perhaps things would have been different if his father hadn't died when he was so young. But things were as they were and he and his mother made the best of their situation. They had been well off while his father was alive, but a sizable life insurance policy and some good investments had created a comfortable financial climate. With no male influence in his life, Carol, his mother, had become his role model.

The smoke from his mother's cigarette drifted hypnotically toward the ceiling. She made it look so feminine and glamorous. Some of the girls in his school smoked and he was drawn to him, but he wasn't their type. They went for the big guys- the bullies that made his life miserable.

Things would change some day. His mother told him that. She knew all to well the troubles her son was experiencing. She told him that when he was older the playing field would level. The girls that had nothing to do with him today would vie for his attention when they saw how intelligent and resourceful he was. Until then, he would need to be patient. If he couldn't have the girls of his dreams, he could at least dream about them.

While most boys his age were thinking of sex with girls as they pulled themselves to orgasm, Jimmy busied his mind with thoughts of becoming one with them. He fantasized about how they felt and what they thought. How did they feel when they put on their frilly dresses and slept in their silky nightgowns? Did they want to smoke? What about the ones that did? Did their parents know? Had they asked for permission?

Dana was a smoker and her parents were well aware of it. She even had their permission. Dana was Dana St. James. She was a girl in Jimmy's class and the subject of many of his fantasies. She was beautiful and dressed the part. He was in awe of her.

He remembered the thrill he felt on the first day of school when he saw the pack of cigarettes in her purse. A week after that, he saw her at a restaurant with her parents. They were sitting in the smoking section and she was having a cigarette with her mom. She looked so grown-up and elegant. He remembered the look of pride on her parent's face, especially her mother's, as she watched her young daughter smoke like a woman. He didn't know if it was true, but it was rumored that she started smoking when she was 9 and her parents gave her their permission when she was 11. He'd heard one girl say Dana smoked almost two packs a day!

Jimmy couldn't help but notice a double standard when it came to the female sex. Girls did things guys could never do. It was perfectly acceptable for a young girl to smoke. It was a way of expressing her femininity. Guys were expected to stay in shape by playing sports. Girls didn't have athletics hanging over their heads. They could smoke and it even helped them keep their weight down. His mother was a prime example. She ate what she wanted and thanks to the three packs of cigarettes she smoked each day, she looked fabulous! And what about the clothes girls wore? They were pretty- not like the plain pants and shirts guys were forced to wear. He wondered about that. Why was it good for girls to wear pretty clothes and bad for guys to do it? Something about it seemed unfair.

His mind wandered back to smoking as his mother applied her lipstick and took a deep drag from her Virginia Slim. Obviously men smoke too, but guys looked strange to Jimmy when he saw them smoking. Something about it didn't look right. He knew of only two guys in his middle school that smoked. They weren't cool like the girls. They were trash. And nobody liked them.

"Are you sure you're going to be OK tonight? I should be back by midnight. Don't wait up for me. Do you understand?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. Sure Mom. I'll be OK. Have a good time tonight. Take your time. Don't worry about me."

Carol Higgins smiled and approached her son with her made-up and face and cigarette in hand. Jimmy wondered if she could sense his hard-on as she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. The smell of her smoky breath drove him wild. She giggled as she wiped away the remnant of her lipstick from his cheek.




He flipped channels as he sat in the chair once occupied by his father. Nothing on TV kept his interest. Situations like this were rare and he felt the need to make the most of his time alone in the house. He should at least jack-off if nothing else, but he could do that anytime. Thoughts of Dana and his mom crept through his mind. He couldn't get past the images of them smoking as if it was the most normal thing in the world for them to do. He wondered what it would be like to smoke in front of his mother. Would she smile at him the way he'd seen Dana's parents smile at her? He'd give anything to know that feeling of acceptance.

He laid the remote control on the coffee table and got up from the chair. He started for the stairs but made a detour at the kitchen and tried to take his mind off his desires by opening a Coke and taking a big swig. He put the can down beside one of his mother's many ashtrays that littered the house like diamonds. The sight of lipstick stained filters made him hard. He picked one up and did his best to wipe away the ashes before sticking it between his lips. He was excited by the idea of putting his lips where his mother's had been. He was beyond reason, but he told him self he would not succumb as he walked up the stairs toward his mother's room.


As he entered his mother's room, all he could think about was what a sick son of a bitch he was. He had felt these urges before but had always pushed them aside without acting on them. In his heart, he knew it was wrong, and the guilt plagued him as he pulled out his mother's dresser drawer.

He opened the drawer and allowed his fingers to navigate the silkiness of her gowns. This wasn't the first time he had looked upon his mother's bras, panties and slips. But time had never been on his side the way it was now. He wanted more than to just touch.

The temptation was immense and so was his fear. He cocked his ear and listened for any sign of danger. All he heard was the sound of the TV coming from downstairs. He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves as he removed his mother's long red silk gown from the confines of the drawer. He held it by the shoulder strap. The gown's hem fell to the carpet. It was gorgeous and he loved the way his mother looked in it. He wondered how he would look and feel if he put it on.

The urge to strip and put it on was strong, but he held off. If he were going to do something so ludicrous and wrong, he would do it right. He laid the gown across his mother's bed and pulled out another dresser drawer. The feel of his mother's panties was heaven to his fingers and he withdrew a pair for further study. He laid it on the bed beside the gown and went back for more.

He examined the clasps on his mother's bra as well as the large cups. He wondered how he would ever get it hooked. He wasn't very coordinated. The idea came to him that could connect the clasps and then shimmy into the bra feet first.

After removing his clothes and leaving them in a pile beside the bed, Jimmy worked himself into the bra and pulled it up against his small flat chest. He opened his mother's underwear drawer again and picked out more of her panties, not to wear, but to fill the bra's deep cups. Satisfied with the results, he slipped on his mother's panties and pulled the gown over his head.

The reflection of his false femininity in the full-length mirror astounded him. The stiffness of his erection against the silk gown ruined the effect but felt so good. He was powerless to leave well enough alone as he took a seat at his mother's vanity and tried to make-him self up the he'd seen his mother do.

So many things to play with! What to do first? He began with the foundation and applied it sparingly and followed with blush and a little eye shadow. He applied the lipstick awkwardly. It would be obvious to anyone watching that he had never done this before. None of this mattered to Jimmy. It was the tingle in his groin that mattered as he put the cap back on the lipstick and returned it to the vanity. He brushed out his long blonde hair giving it some body. He put the brush down, being careful not to disturb the full ashtray that sat beside his mother's pack of Virginia Slims. He got up and walked to the full-length mirror. He tilted his hips and smiled at his reflection. He liked what he saw even though it pained him. WRONG! This is wrong, but he couldn't stop now. Maybe these urges would leave if he gave into them all the way- at least just this once.

He returned with his mother's pack of Virginia Slims and lighter in hand as he modeled in front of the mirror. He removed one of the slim cigarettes from the pack and held it at an angle the way he'd seen Dana and his mother do. He moved it between his fingers so that the filter was between his fingers. This made the cigarette appear longer and more elegant.

He knew better than to light it. His mother would have a fit if she found out. Just last week she had given him a long lecture about the dangers of smoking. She told him how important it was to avoid and learn from her mistakes. If smoking was so bad then why didn't she quit? Why did anyone smoke if it was so bad? She had told him about addiction. He had grown up hearing that word, but in his mind "addiction" was just a word. So what? His mother was addicted to something she obviously enjoyed and looked good doing.

Jimmy put the cigarette between his lips and fumbled with the lighter. His thumb pressed against the steel wheel but nothing happened. He tried again and was surprised to see a flame appear. He nervously touched the tip of the cigarette to the flame and sucked on the filter the way he would suck on a straw if he were drinking a milkshake.

His mouth filled with smoke. The flavor was not as he expected. It was harsh and hot. He realized his error in judgment but was powerless to prevent him self from seeing it through. He looked in the mirror as his red lips opened and exposed a thick ball of creamy white smoke. He inhaled the way he'd seen Dana and his mother do. The smoke slid down his throat. It was the last thing he saw as his eyes slammed shut and his body reeled in pain. How do people do this he wondered as he clutched his chest and coughed uncontrollably?

He looked at his hunched over reflection in the mirror. His eyes watered. His chest felt as it were on fire. Yes, he should stop. He should walk over to his mother's vanity and put the foul cigarette out in the ashtray. This woman stuff was beyond him. He wasn't cut out for it. But somewhere within him, his determination swelled and he tried again. The smoke was still harsh, but this time he fought the urge to cough. Maybe this was how people really felt when they smoked. Maybe they just pretended to enjoy it, but Jimmy didn't think so. Dana and his mother had mastered this thing, and so would he.

He stood in front of the mirror and continued practicing, walking away now and then to ash the cigarette at his mother's vanity. He had to finish the cigarette any way. If he didn't smoke it down to the filter it would look out of place among the other butts.

As the cigarette burned down between his fingers, his confidence grew, and he began to move around the room, prancing with the cigarette, pausing to take puffs from it. He was proud of the way he was smoking. He may not like the way it felt, but he was in love with the way it made him look while wearing his mother's lingerie.

The alarm clock radio on his mother's nightstand said it was only 8:00. He had until midnight to enjoy his mother's clothes and cigarettes. The pack was almost empty and he knew better than to take it downstairs. It made more sense to get a fresh pack from his mother's carton. He knew she would never miss it.




Jimmy was in heaven as he lounged on the couch, watching TV, wearing his mother's nightgown and smoking her cigarettes. He had never felt so relaxed or more at peace. At ten o'clock he decided enough was enough and he didn't want to press his luck. He removed the make-up, put his mother's clothes back where he had found them and went to bed.

Carol let her self in a little past midnight. She scowled when she saw the TV on and the mess her son had left for her. But all in all, she had a good time on her date, and decided not to let a little extra housework bother her. After all, she should be pleased to see the house in one piece. She had heard stories of kids Jimmy's age inviting friends over and having parties while their parents were away. Her son was not that kind of boy- thank God! She locked the door and turned off the lights. The mess looked better in the dark.

Her son's light was still on so she looked in and saw him sleeping. She couldn't help but feel a burst of love in her bosom as she watched him sleep. She went in and turned off the light before kissing him goodnight.

If she had kissed him first, while the lights were still on, maybe she would have seen the bit of shadow that remained on his lids. But the clue eluded her. As she kissed his forehead, she couldn't help but notice the slight aroma of smoke in his hair.

Poor boy she thought. That's what he has to suffer through, living with a mother that smokes. She wondered if the kids at school made fun of him for smelling this way.

She closed his door behind her and turned off the hall light before entering her own room. She sat down at her vanity and lit a cigarette as she took off her make-up. She undressed and changed into a nightgown. The drawer of lingerie seemed disturbed. She noticed it but didn't give it much thought as she pulled the red gown over her head. She ran her fingers across the smooth fabric. She looked down and lifted the gown. She had felt something stiff. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The stiffness she felt was dry semen. She must not have washed it after her last time with Bobby, her date from tonight. Oh well, she thought, at least it's a good memory, and with that she climbed in bed and fell asleep.




That first night of sweet temptation and satisfaction would repeat it self many times over the next three months. For Jimmy, each time was as wonderful as the first. Practice makes perfect and he had begun to master both the art of smoking and applying make-up.

Things didn't seem right to Carol. She began to suspect Jimmy was up to something. She was neat by nature but her closets and drawers had become increasingly disorganized over the last couple months. This disturbed her but she tried not to think about it. She wasn't an expert on teenage boys. Perhaps his behavior was normal. Why wouldn't her son be curious about females? He was probably satisfying his curiosity by searching through her things. But still, she should probably have a talk with him, but it seemed so weird.

She watched Jimmy in the mirror as she applied her make-up. He seemed eager for her to finish and leave. She kissed him on the cheek and told him not to wait up for her.




Bobby reached across the table and lit Carol's cigarette. "What's wrong," he asked? "You haven't said a word all night and you hardly touched your dinner."

Carol smiled weakly as she exhaled a lungful of smoke. "I don't know. I just can't get over the feeling that something isn't right."

"Is it Jimmy? Has he been giving you problems?"

Carol took a puff from her cigarette and pondered her answer. "I can't put my finger on it Bobby. Call it mother's intuition or whatever, but something isn't right. I hate to say this, but I don't know how to relate to him. I'm raising a boy, but I know nothing about boys. It would have been so much easier if he had been born a girl. What am I saying? Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I do Carol. And I think you're telling me you need to go home early. Am I right?"

She cocked her head ever so slightly and smiled at Bobby in a flirting manner. "Would you hate me if I did?"




Bobby was the best thing that ever happened to him and his mom thought Jimmy as he floated around the living room waiving a cigarette in his hand. He believed he was gliding, but in truth he was stomping around the room like a Clydesdale. His mother's high heels were tight and difficult to balance in. He was wearing the cocktail dress that his mother had worn on her last date with Bobby. He knew he didn't fill it the way she did, but in his mind he did, and that was what mattered.

It all happened so fast. He had been caught completely off guard. It was only 9:00. His mother shouldn't be home for hours. But the sound of a key turning in the door was unmistakable. He stood there in his mother's dress, holding a lit cigarette, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car as the door opened and his mother stepped inside. Her heart fluttered. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and scurried to pick it up before it burned the carpet.

"Mom! What are you doing home"!

"I didn't feel well," she said, "so I came home. What are you doing Jimmy? Why are you wearing my clothes? You're smoking!"

"I can explain Mom," he said as he put the cigarette out. It's not what you think. I know what it must look like. I should have told you but I wanted to keep it a secret until I knew for sure."

Carol took a deep breath and tried to compose her self as she sat down and opened her purse. She needed a cigarette. "What are you talking about," she asked?

Jimmy turned bright red as he struggled for an explanation that would somehow make sense. He was caught. He was dead. He had ruined his life forever.

"I was trying to come up with a costume I could wear for Halloween."

Carol nervously lit her cigarette and inhaled a calming puff of smoke. "You're too old for trick or treat Jimmy. We agreed. Last year was supposed to be the end of it. You said you would stay home with me and give out candy."

"I know. I know," said Jimmy. "I wasn't talking about going around the neighborhood. Some kids from school are having a party and I was thinking about going."

"So why are you smoking? Is that a part of your costume too?"

Jimmy's face contorted, but he was on a roll and the lie kept building. "I was thinking about going as Cruella DeVille. You know, that woman from '101 Dalmatians'- the one that smokes and uses the holder. You know who I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember. It's one of your favorite movies. You weren't inhaling I hope."

His face reddened. "Of course not Mom. You know I don't smoke. It's just a part of the costume. I looked around your room to see if you had a cigarette holder, but I couldn't find one."

Carol took a deep puff from her cigarette. "Apparently that wasn't all you were looking for."

She got up off the couch and approached her son who took a step back. "It's OK," she said. "I'm not mad. I just want to get a closer look."

She put a finger on his chin and scrunched her face as she examined her son's clumsy make-up job.

Jimmy took a deep breath and relaxed. His lie was working. She believed him. Maybe he wouldn't die after all.

"You could probably pull it off with a little help. What do you say? It's still early and I'm starting to feel better. You want to come up stair? I could help you with your make-up and you could get a better idea of how you'd look in your costume."

"Naw, that's OK. I got a pretty good idea. I look pretty stupid. I don't think I'll go to that party anyway. If I'm embarrassed now, just think of how I'd feel if I really went. I'm going to take this off now."

"OK Honey. Maybe we'll talk about it again tomorrow. Just put my clothes in the dirty hamper and don't forget to wash your face. Use my baby oil."

While Jimmy took off his make-up, Carol called Bobby on the phone to let him know everything was OK. She told him there had been a situation at home but it wasn't life threatening. She asked him about his friend the psychiatrist. He gave her his friend's number.

Jimmy scrubbed hard at his face. He was boiling over with adrenalin and relief. He had dodged a big bullet tonight.




He woke up to the smell of his mom's cigarette. She was sitting on his bed, prodding his chest, and telling him to wake up. He asked what was wrong as he rubbed his eyes. "It's Saturday isn't it? I don't have school today."

He remembered the night before and scanned her face for any sign of anger but saw none.

"No silly. But we've got a big day. You don't want to spend the day in bed, do you? Go get a shower and I'll have breakfast waiting for you when you're finished."




Jimmy's hair was still wet as he walked in the kitchen. Carol had her back to him as she flipped some bacon over the stove. She turned to face him with a spatula in one hand a cigarette in the other. She told him that breakfast was almost ready and to pour him self a cup of coffee and have a seat.

She turned off the stove and set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him and joined him at the table.

"So what's the big thing we have to do?" asked Jimmy as he nibbled a piece of bacon.

Carol inhaled deeply from her cigarette and tapped an ash. "I thought we'd work on your costume today. You know, Cruella DeVille."

Jimmy blushed. "I don't think so Mom."

"Oh come on Honey! It will be fun."

"Look Mom. I tried it last night and I know what I'd look like. There's no reason to do it again. I already told you I wasn't going to the party."

"Forget the party Jimmy. I want you to do this for me. And if you like it you can change your mind about the party."

"I don't get it," said Jimmy. "Why are you saying I should do this for you?" Carol smiled shyly and took a deep drag from her cigarette. "When I saw you last night dressed in my clothes, it made me realize that I'll never have a daughter. Don't get the wrong idea about this. I love you and I'm very proud of you. It's just I've always wished you had a sister. That's why I want you to do this. It's selfish I know. But will you do this for me?"

"It means that much to you," asked Jimmy?

"It does Honey. Will you do this for Mommy?"

Jimmy nodded his head and tried not to appear eager. This was too good to be true and he couldn't believe his good fortune.




Carol stood back from the vanity, lit a cigarette and admired her creation. "You look beautiful Honey. Come over here and look at your self in the mirror. You won't believe it!"

Jimmy got up from vanity. He'd seen his face in the mirror. He'd seen the way his mother had styled his hair. But as good as that was, he didn't put it all together until he saw himself in the full-length mirror. His mom had picked out the blue dress he was wearing as well as the sandals. They fit his feet and were much easier to walk in than the high heels.

His head spun. The feel of the slip and the pantyhose against his skin was absolutely incredible. Not only did he look like a girl, he looked years older than 13. With make-up, he could easily pass for a 17 year old or maybe even a girl in college. He tried to conceal his joy but a smile erupted across his face.

"So tell me Honey. What do you think? Do you see a boy or a girl when you look in the mirror?"

"This is so weird Mom. It's like there's no way to tell I'm really a boy."

"Almost but not quite," said Carol. "I forgot to do your nails. You'd be amazed at the difference a little polish can make. Of course I'll need to get your toes too. Sit back down. This will only take a minute."

Jimmy sat back down and watched his mom as she went to work on his fingers and toes. She was right. It did make a difference.

Carol was excited. Not only was it fun to play with Jimmy as if he was her daughter but she was also enjoying her son's happiness. It had been years since she'd seen her son so relaxed and happy.

She didn't stop with the make-up. It was one thing to make her son look like a girl. It was another to get him to loosen up and talk and walk as a girl. "Do it like this," she said. "Now walk like this." It went on for hours. Jimmy found himself wishing it could go on forever. He'd never felt this much at ease with his mom before. He loved her and he knew she loved him back, but they had never shared a moment like this. He had never felt as close to her as he did now.

His sense of joy and security disintegrated when his mother picked out a spare purse, handed it to him and told him they were going to the mall.

"What for?" he asked. "I thought we were just going to do this here. I can't go out looking like this. What if someone sees me?"

"Give me a break Jimmy. I'm your mother and I don't recognize you. As far as anyone will know, you're just another very pretty teenage girl. I'll tell you what. If we see anyone we know, I'll tell them you're my niece. I'll call you Katie. How's that sound? Do you like that name? That's the name I chose for you when I was pregnant. I would have named you Katie if you had been born a girl."

"Yeah, I guess that's OK. Do I look like a Katie?"

"To me you do. Do you feel like a Katie?"

Jimmy looked in the mirror and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do."




Somewhere between the house and the mall, Jimmy lost his nerve. He had been blinded by the excitement of wearing his mother's clothes. But fear had awakened his reason. And the smell of his mother's cigarette smoke reminded him that he hadn't smoked in over a day.

He told his mother that he had changed his mind. She would have none of it. They parked at the front entrance. Jimmy spotted three boys he knew from school. He tried to look away as they walked past the boys. He felt the boys' eyes but no one shouted his name. He breathed a deep breath sigh of relief as the door closed behind him and his mother. Maybe this would work out after all.

Their first stop was at a lingerie store called Sylvia's. He'd seen it many times before but never from the inside. He followed his mom to the far corner of the store where the breast forms were on display. She looked at him and back at the forms before choosing a set that would give him a 'C' cup. He was thankful that his mom carried them and didn't ask him to do it. She then went about picking out panties, bras and slips. She had a handful of under garments when she let out a gasp.

He followed her eyes thinking she'd seen someone they knew. She wasn't looking at a person. Her eyes were fixed on the sexiest nightgown he'd ever seen. It was long like the red one his mother wore but this one was powder blue. His heart raced as she took it off the hanger and draped it over her arm. He didn't say a word as she went to the sales desk and paid for the purchases with a credit card. She didn't say she had bought the things for him but he could only assume.

After leaving the store, Carol said she needed a cigarette, so they took a seat on a bench. She told him they had another stop to make. She wanted to get him some different to wear. After all, he wasn't anyone's mother. He needed something younger looking.

He tried to talk her out of it as they approached the department store. He told her it wasn't necessary. It was just a Halloween party and he probably wouldn't even go.

She told him not to worry about it. She impressed upon him that he was doing her a favor by letting her pretend to have a daughter. He followed her into the store.

They went straight to the junior department. Jimmy watched as his mother stalked the racks picking skirts, belts, blouses and dresses. He spent the next hour trying them on along with breast forms she purchased at Sylvia's. When it was all said, done and paid for, Jimmy walked out wearing some of the purchases and carrying the rest in bags along with his mother's old clothes. He was dressed as if had just walked off the set a Mandy Moore video.

As he carried the bags through the mall, he complained that she had spent too much. She told him not to worry about it and to quit trying to spoil her fun. She noticed the jiggle in his chest as he walked and asked how the breast forms felt. Jimmy blushed and told her that they were neat and felt real. They were so different than the socks he'd stuffed her bra with.

He was so busy talking and enjoying him self that he didn't notice when his mother turned and walked into another shop. They were inside the "Tinder Box". It was a tobacco shop that specialized in cigars, pipe tobacco, cigarettes, and all kinds of smoking accessories.

A man who appeared to be in his early fifties approached them and asked if he could be of assistance.

"I hope so," said Carol. "This is my daughter Katie. She's recently taken up smoking. As much as her decision pains me, I respect and understand her feelings. I was her age once and I remember what a milestone it was when my mother gave me permission to smoke."

The man looked at Carol and then at Katie and nodded as he scratched his beard. "So what did you have in mind," he asked?

"Well, what do you have in the way of cigarette holders?" asked Carol.

The man gestured to the display the case as he walked around the counter. He took out a black holder that was medium in length and accented with pearl.

"It's beautiful," said Carol as she admired it and then handed it to Jimmy.

The man also placed a gold lady's lighter on the counter. Jimmy squeezed his thighs together as he tried to hide his erection.

"These are wonderful," said Carol. "They'll do quite nicely. Also, may we trouble you for a carton of cigarettes?"

She turned to Jimmy and asked, "You still smoke Virginia Slims, don't you Katie?"

Jimmy smiled weakly as she squeaked out a "Yes Mom."

The man behind the counter reached behind him and pulled a carton of Virginia Slims. Carol handed him her credit card and opened the carton of cigarettes while the man rang up her purchases.

She handed Jimmy a pack. "Here Katie. Put these and the lighter in your purse. I'm starved. How about you?"




They ordered salads and Carol removed her cigarettes from her purse and lit one. She reached in a shopping bag and pulled out the cigarette holder. "Go ahead Honey. Show me your best Cruela DeVille imitation."

Jimmy blushed as he took the cigarette holder from his mom and loaded a cigarette in the holder's barrel. He was dying for a smoke. He knew his mother had bought the holder as prop for his costume. She had no idea he was really addicted. As far as she was concerned this was just a little joke, but it felt like a matter of life and death as he scrambled to light the cigarette. He couldn't help but feel he was getting away with something right under her nose.

Carol watched as Jimmy lit the cigarette and inhaled a deep puff. He didn't cough- quite the opposite as a matter of fact. Relief flooded his face as the smoke entered his lungs.

"Do I look like Cruella DeVille," asked Jimmy?

Carol scrunched her face as she studied him. "Not really. You look to pretty to be Cruella. And the holder doesn't go with your clothes. Lose the holder and try it with just the cigarette."

"But Cruella always uses a holder," argued Jimmy.

"I know," said Carol. "I just want to see what you'd look like without the holder. OK?"

Jimmy took a deep breath and sighed as he twisted the cigarette loose from the barrel and placed the holder on the table. He realized his mom had put him in an awkward position. The only reason she was letting him smoke was because he was trying to look like Cruella DeVille. What was he supposed to do now-- smoke it?

Carol looked at her son holding the cigarette and smiled. "Aren't you going to take another puff," she asked?

Paranoia overtook him. As much as he needed to smoke, he couldn't risk getting caught. He felt as if his mother was setting him up. "I don't really smoke. You know that."

She looked at him knowingly and said, "Jimmy doesn't smoke, but I think Katie does."

Jimmy reached across the table and tapped his cigarette over the ashtray. "What do you mean," he asked?

"What I mean," said Carol, "is that I think my lovely young daughter is addicted to cigarettes. I saw the way you inhaled when you lit up. You've been doing this for quite a while, haven't you Katie?"

Jimmy knew the game was up or at least he thought it was. He put the cigarette to his coated lips and took a deep drag. He inhaled and felt some relief although he was scared to death of what his mother would do to him.

"Why are you doing this," he asked? "If you knew I smoked, why did you make me get all dressed up in these clothes and go through this?" Carol put her cigarette out and lit another one. "I did it so I would know for sure. This is about a lot more than smoking Honey and you know that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're right. I've been smoking. I'm sorry and I'll quit. I'll never do it again. I promise."

"It's not that easy Katie. If it were I would have quit a long time ago. Believe me. I know. I started smoking when I was your age too. And I started for the same reason you did- to attract boys, and then I got addicted. The same thing happened to you. You can't quit any more than I can. It's nothing to be ashamed of Honey. A lot of girls start smoking when they're your age. Why should you be any different? You look very feminine and grown-up with your cigarette. See how the boys are looking at you?"

Jimmy scanned the restaurant. His mom was right. They were looking at him, and he liked the way it made him feel. He put out his cigarette and lit another one.

"What are you trying to say Mom? Are you telling me I'm gay?

"Not at all Honey. You're not a guy that likes guys. You're a woman in a boy's body that likes guys. You should have been born a girl, but you weren't. But that doesn't mean we can't make it right. I'm going to make an appointment for you to see a doctor on Monday. And I want you to be completely honest with him and with your self. Will you do that for me Katie? Will you?"

"Yes mom."


Just a note from the editor: Slim V. emailed me that there is more to this story, hopefully to be appearing soon. :)

 



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