As I told Paul, I was not really much of a lady's man in high school. But I was both a jock and a burnout and had friends among both groups. The latter of which included many female smokers (as did the greasers, and though I never was a greaser, I tried to at least talk to them at times in my upperclassman years....but still it was all pretty much a big tease to me as their smoking would drive me crazy but I was not too sexually active or dating much at that point).

And though I only mentioned the black leather jackets at the bowling ally, it was like that in all the other places I speak of, with black leather jackets, teased hair and Marlboro reds being very common (and would drive me wild).

You have probably seen me report these memories before, but I think it would be appropriate to tell again of some of my more memorable moments fetish wise as a preteen:

Like the time I was on vacation with my family at a resort in the catskills and they had a waterskiing outting for the teens. Though I was only about 12, I had waterskied before and my folks talked them into including me. The bused us to the lake about 5 miles away and I sat in the back of the bus. In the seats directly in front of me were about 5 or 6 beautiful 16 year olds, all wearing bikinis and all chain smoking Marlboros. The visual sight was breathtaking and the powerful smoky scent was overpowering and intoxicating...I sat with my towel across my lap for obvious reasons.

Or the time I went to the movies with my family and snuck out to the concession area in the middle of the movie to observe the many teenaged girls smoking. Two older brunettes (maybe 15 or 16) in black leather jackets accosted me and asked me to get them cigarettes from the vending machine (guess they didn't want to be seen). I took their money and got them their Winstons hoping they would invite me to join them. They did not, but I followed them into the balcony and while everyone else was watching John Wayne and Robert Mitchum shoot it up in El Dorado, I was in my own little heaven a row behind them as they smoked their Winstons incessantly.

Then there was the time I called on my buddy Joe after the Junior high school day was over. His older sister answered the door in black leather jacket, big hair, while removing a Winston from her pack. She lit her cigarette with a match as I asked if Joe was home. After blowing her exhale in my direction she merely shook her head no. I stood there with a dumb look on my face (hoping she would invite me in and ravish me). But I merely got the door slammed in my face.

Another Winston encounter was at about the age of 11 or 12 and mowing the back lawn with no shirt and just cutoffs. My neighbor from behind us came through the fence on her way to visit my Mom. She was an attractive lady in her late 30s and lit a Winston as she entered our yard. She said hi and then told me how hard I have been working and proceeded to give me a massage; as she sometimes dangled her winston and sometimes held it between one her fingers that were working their magic on me. I am sure you can imagine how turned on I was.