Smoke Drawer Pt. 01

This is part one of a two-part series. Massive thank you to Kenji Sato for editing as this was my first time writing in first person. As I am a slow writer, it might take some time before part two is ready to share. Appreciate feedback as it helps me grow my story telling and writing skills. Please enjoy.

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The smartest thing I ever did was change the opening time of my store from ten to noon. Gives me plenty of time to sleep in and wash away any hangover from the prior night. With a cigarette in hand, I stumble into my living room, cursing for the umpteenth time that I need to learn how to program my coffee maker. It will be the same curse tomorrow morning and the day after. My jeans lie out over the back of my chair, right where I always leave them.

I slid them on, followed by pushing one foot at a time into my boots. Running my finger around my eyes, looking for any eye boogers, I load the coffee maker before throwing some slices of bread into the toaster. While waiting for coffee, I grab my wallet, watch, phone, and keys from the table by the door. Above the table hangs a mirror, giving me a chance to check myself before heading out.

With comb in hand, I comb my blond, fine hair back, making sure it parts perfectly down the middle. A once-through with the comb for my mustache, and I am just about ready to face the day.

"You are one handsome devil, Steve Tripp," I say to the mirror, smiling, though my eyes tell me I am a lying piece of shit. Growing old gracefully has not been in the cards for me, not when you have lived a hard outdoor life. Once I had been considered handsome, but deep crow's feet and my white skin, weathered and blotchy now, have erased most of that. Still just as skinny as I'd been back when I was a kid and a swift breeze could knock my thin ass down on my bony butt.

The smell of burnt toast brings me back into the kitchen. I sip my coffee, looking at my place from over the counter, and realize it is a depressing motherfucker. A quick glance at my watch, and I realize I need to get some giddy up to get to the store, not that I have a line of customers waiting for me, or anything. Likely just Carl, who hauls his Black ass from the car wash across the street to shoot the breeze with me.

Holding a cigarette in one hand, a piece of black toast between my teeth, I climb into my Ford truck and start it up. Just about everything in my life needs an update, and my truck is no different. It is so old now that someone the other day had said it was a classic. I simply nodded at the guy, but thought,yeah, a classic 'piece of shit' that some days decides not to start.

The drive to my shop is not long, and as expected, there are no cars in front of my storefront. I smirk as I park, because I can already see Carl's black fat ass trying to cross the street to come over to talk. It strikes me that Carl coming over is about the only thing dependable in my life. Not complaining or anything, 'cause when it comes to luck, most would say I have had my fair share, considering I have done absolutely nothing to earn it. A few years ago, an uncle, who I have zero memory of, had passed away and had left me enough money to buy a modest house and open my store.

Quick turn of the keys and the door opens to the shop. I breathe in the earthy smell of tobacco; to me, it is akin to the way some people feel about smelling chocolate cookies fresh out of the oven. I turn the sign from closed to open in the window - The Smoke Drawer is officially open for business. No sooner do I take my customary spot behind the counter, then Carl comes waltzing in. He is a few inches shorter than I am, but he is at least fifty pounds heavier. I light a new Marlboro after selling a couple of cigarillos to Carl. He settles into one of the high-back chairs I have for customers, and we descend into our familiar routine of shooting bull on just about everything.

I'm halfway through my latest reason our football team sucks when I notice Carl's attention is drawn out to the parking lot. A young woman is walking across the lot in cutoff jeans and an orange shirt that fits her body tightly. Even from within the shop, I can see her breasts bounce with each step. She looks to be heading right for the shop, yet there is an agitation to her gait that makes me uneasy. I feel this is not a social call.

Sure enough, the door bangs open, and this girl with curly dark hair comes storming in. Her down-turned mouth and stiff posture come to an abrupt halt as her eyes scan my shop.

Do I know this woman?I think to myself before politely asking, "Hi, can I help you?" as she has to be a customer,why else be in my shop?

Her eyes narrow at me, or more precisely, at my lit cigarette. She jabs her finger at me. "Yeah, you can start by putting that out. It stinks."

I glance at Carl, who simply raises his eyebrows looking at the girl. I set my cigarette on the ashtray and move down the counter towards her.

So not a smoker, but maybe buying for a friend?It happens, and their money is as good as any fellow smoker's is. "You looking to buy something, ma'am, possibly a gift for someone?"

"No," she says, with such indignation that you would have thought I had asked her out on a date, or something.

"Okay," I say, shaking my head, looking back over at Carl, who snorts, but remains seated, enjoying this diversion from our normal routine. "Then why are you here?"

She tilts her head, inspecting me like an insect, and it unsettles me. I now notice that she is not exactly white like I first thought. Her skin has a tinge of color to it;maybe she is half something else?

"Why are you here?" she challenges.

Okay, this is weird.Is she asking me a question, or is she mocking me by repeating me?

I clear my throat and try to give her a hard stare, which doesn't really work as I am about as thick as a flagpole. "Ma'am, if you aren't here to purchase anything, then I am going to ask you to leave."

"My nephew and his friends have to pass by your shop every afternoon from school. It is against the local ordinance to have a smoke shop within a thousand feet of a school. Did you know that?"

"I do, but I don't see what any of that has to do with my shop. I am well over a thousand feet from any school or daycare."

"It should be. I just told you that my nephew has to pass by this shop, and yesterday one of his friends was caught with a pack of cigarettes!"

"I don't sell to minors, so if you have said your piece, can you please leave my shop?"

She points at me, her hand trembling. "I know your type. You can't just brush me off. I want this shop closed."

"Good luck with that. Now get the fuck out of my shop." My anger is now welling up, as I have just about had enough of this bitch.

Carl is now laughing so hard, he chokes and has to bend over to catch his breath.

The woman wheels around on Carl. "You can just shut your Black ass up. No one was talking to you!"

That got Carl off his chair fast, but I put my hand out to tell him to stop.

"Lady, if you don't get out, I am going to drag your ass out!" I move around the counter. This is not how I want my day to go.

"Oh, so now you're going to assault me, is that it!"

"No one is going to assault you, but you need to get the fuck out. Are you even old enough to be in here?" Just like the question of her skin color, I am not of her age either. The makeup she wears is throwing me off.

"I'm nineteen and old enough to know you are a creepy old man selling crap to kids."

"Sweet Jesus, are you for real?" I yank the door open. "For the last time, will you leave?"

She turns away from me and looks at the opposite wall, where I have hung mahogany shelves with glass fronts loaded with boxes of cigars and other products. In disbelief, I watch her lean over the glass counter and take hold of the shelving.

"Stop!" I yell, letting go of the door, but it is too late.

The woman yanks the shelving hard, and the bracer cracks, causing the shelves' contents to slide to the drooping side. My hands wrap around one of her arms, and I try to pull her away. Her hands are like vice grips on the shelving, and all I succeed at doing is helping to bring down the entire shelf. It smashes against the glass counter, causing deep cracks in that, too.

I end up taking her down to the linoleum floor with me as loose cigars fall over us.

"What the fuck! Seriously. Are you fucking crazy or something?!" I shout as I try to get up.

Carl hasn't bothered to move at all.Great friend.

The woman finally gets up, and I notice I must have grabbed some of her shirt when we'd gone down. The collar of her shirt is torn just enough on her right shoulder to expose a bright pink bra. She looks at me smugly, as if she has accomplished some mission of hers.

"You," I say, pointing to the damage in my shop, "better have the money to pay for this." My eyes are locked onto her dark brown eyes, and I see the first flicker of doubt in the girl. My shoulders sag, and I shake my head. "Let me guess, you have no money?"

"Well, no," she says, perhaps realizing for the first time that she has done real damage. She moves towards the door, but I move to block her.

"You aren't going anywhere until we sort out how you are going to pay for this? What is your name?"

"Mindy," she says meekly. "I'm sorry I got carried away a bit."

"A bit? Girl, that glass counter repair alone is easily over five hundred dollars."

"What? Seriously? I don't have that kind of money."

I rub my forehead in thought, recalling how on the drive over I counted myself as a lucky man. "Carl, why don't you take off?"

"What? Steve, come on, man. I'm loving this too much."

"Carl, leave. I got this."

Carl slides off his chair, clearly annoyed and bent out of shape at being asked to leave. He passes Mindy, letting his eyes flick over the girl's body. "Tell you what, sweetness, I will give you the two twenties in my pocket right now if you flash me those nubile little titties you have hiding under that shirt."

"Not helping, Carl," I say, shaking my head.

"What? She says she has no money. I'm just trying to help," he replies, barely able to suppress a snort of laughter.

I open the door for Carl as he leaves.

He turns to me. "Hey Steve, let me know tomorrow how this turned out."

"Goodbye Carl." I shut the door behind him, locking it, and turn the open sign to closed.

Mindy has started picking up all the loose merchandise on the floor. A bit late to be respectful now.

Scratching the back of my neck, I'm at a loss at what to do. Calling the cops is the logical answer, but who wants those nosy sons-of-bitches up in your business? I have nothing to hide, of course, but still no thank you to the police.

"Let's call your parents. Give me your dad's number." Surely a parent would help their kid out of this situation.

Mindy looks at me, scared, which I don't mind; everyone has to learn at some point that you can't just go breaking shit. "I don't have a dad."

"What do you mean you don't have a dad?"

She attempts to answer, but I hold out my hand to stop her. I don't need to go down a rabbit hole with this girl. "Fine, no dad. Give me your mom's number."

"No, please, I can't have my mom find out."

"Well, you should have thought of that before your righteous butt came into my shop and started breaking shit."

"No, I can't."

I give her an exasperated look. "Well, how the hell are you going to make me whole here? This costs real money."

Mindy looks down at the floor and, without looking up, offers, "I could do like that Black feller said and flash you my breasts?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Not believing what I've just heard come out of this girl's mouth.

She looks up with tears in her big puppy-dog eyes and says, "I can let you look at my breasts?"

I snort and jerk back my head. Without thinking, my eyes take in her breasts. They are at least pear-sized, I would guess, and I feel my dick stir a bit. "Look, be serious. How are you going to pay?"

"I am."

"Wh - what?" I look at her and can tell she is, in fact, serious.

"Look, you flashing your breasts isn't going to cover this damage. We need to come up with something else." Not that I wouldn't mind seeing her breasts, for I'm only human after all.

"Okay, what if I let you touch them, too?"

"Stop offering me your breasts and let me think."

"Well, they're all I've got to offer."

"If we went down that road, trust me, honey, you have a bit more to offer than just your breasts."

"Fine, I get completely naked."

I laugh. "Who the fuck are you, anyway? You come in here accusing me of shit, and now you want to buy your way out with sex?"

"Well, I have no money, and my mom can't know. So what else am I supposed to do?"

"Maybe not do this shit in the first place? What about that?" My nerves are getting to me, and I Iight another Marlboro.

Mindy makes a face at the cigarette in my mouth, and a thought strikes me. I close the blinds to the store windows and the door before I walk over to reach for a pack of Benson and Hedges and open it. Taking out a cigarette, I offer it to Mindy, who actually backs up.

"Shit, it isn't a hand grenade for Christ's sake," I say. "Take it."

"No."

"You started this mess by attacking me for selling tobacco products, and I will be damned if you walk out of here without trying them, especially seeing as you have no money to pay for damages."

Mindy tentatively takes the cigarette from me and brings it up to her lips. I offer my lighter up and thumb the wheel, letting the flame light the end.

"Inhale slowly," I say in a softer tone.

She coughs, at first, but Mindy quickly gets the hang of it and exhales, only to inhale again. A smile plays on her lips as she looks at her hand holding the cigarette, exhaling through her nose.

I wonder what is going through her head right then, but decide not to ask.

"Take a seat," I say, showing the chair that Carl had exited from. She sets down the boxes she'd been trying to organize and takes a seat. Still not sure what I was going to do next, I walked over to her.

"So, this offer you're giving me," I start, as my hand moves up, allowing my index finger to caress the outer edge of her breast through the shirt and bra.

Her body goes a little more rigid at my touch before relaxing.

"What exactly does it entail?"

She looks up at me with those dark eyes of hers, and I have to resist the urge to kiss her.This girl is not into you, I remind myself.It is a business transaction of sorts.

I watch her take another drag of her cigarette, mulling over my question.

"How old are you? I can't really see a lot of gray, but you're..." She doesn't finish the statement, which I appreciate.

"Too old for you, girl," I smile weakly. My hands move to the undersides of her breasts, feeling the weight. "Why aren't you in school, or something?"

My change of topic throws her, so she hits me back.

"Don't feel like it. Why do you drive that crappy old truck all the time?"

"'Cause it gets me where I need to go," I respond, noting that she had to have been watching me for some time before coming into my shop today.Not sure if I should be flattered or bothered that I have had a stalker.

One of my hands moves down to her bare knee. I leave it sitting there for a moment to see what she will do. At only nineteen, she doesn't seem to be afraid of me. That is a good thing, for I wouldn't be able to do this if she were.

I move my hand, caressing her skin up to her frayed edges of her jean shorts. Mindy moves her hand to my forearm, and I think she is going to move it away. Instead, her fingers caress my skin, but she doesn't stop me when my fingers move under the frayed edges. She is breathing a little harder now, but hell, so am I.

She takes another drag of the cigarette, and I realize she is waiting for my next move. I decide not to ask her again what she is willing to do to pay for the damage. She will tell me when I ask for too much, and I will respect that. Just making me feel like a young man again, a wanted man, is truthfully enough of a payment.

"Take your shirt off."

I watch her take the hem of the shirt and pull it up and over, leaving her breasts concealed not by the bright pink bra. Mindy parts her legs, allowing me to step closer to her. I explore the newly exposed pale skin, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her shoulder. Her hands touch my chest as I continue to plant kisses along her shoulders before she let them slip under and touch my bare skin.

My mouth moves up to her warm throat, and I hear a faint gasp from her, as I taste more of her flesh. Her breasts push into my hands as I paw at them through the pink bra. My cock, at this point, is as hard as nails and begging to be set free. I can't help but grind against her, as my arousal builds to heights I haven't felt in years.

Mindy leans into me, as my hands move behind her. Fumbling with the clasp of her bra, a jolt of excitement shoots through me when I feel the material loosen and fall away from her body.

I find her mouth and envelop hers in mine. She moans into my mouth as my tongue sensually caresses her lips before moving inside. Our tongues touch and slide across one another as the kiss deepens in intensity. My hands feel her now-naked breasts, and I doubt I will ever touch something more perfect at my age.Who is this woman, and how is this even happening to me?I wonder, as I continue to explore her mouth.

When Mindy's fingers unbutton my jeans, I break off the kiss, leaving both of us gasping for air. I look at her and see the hunger in her eyes, and I want to scoop her right out of that chair. Except, we are not at my house, there is no bed- this is just my store.This girl, who comes into my store breaking shit, is about to cross a line that makes me feel uncomfortable,I realize.

I snort, shaking my head, as her hand slips inside my jeans and boxers. The moment her fingers touch my hard flesh, it throbs in response.

She looks up at me, confused. "What?" She asks, in a tone that is as vulnerable as it is inexperienced.

"Mindy, you don't have to," I say, my voice ragged. I desperately want to, but I am not the guy who is going to take advantage of this any more than required.

"You don't want me to?" She pulls my cock out of its trappings. Her hand strokes the warm flesh with her thumb moving over the head. It is enough that I want to explode right there.

"It's not that. Believe me, I want you, but it's -"

Before I say another word, her head leans down, and she takes my cock into her mouth.

"Sweet Jesus," I manage, as my legs go weak. My hands almost tremble as they run through her dark curly hair. She has several adorable little moles on her back, and I want to memorize the placement of every single one.

Her hands continue to help bring my arousal to its peak as she sucks my dick. One hand is stroking the base, and the other's fingers caress my sensitive sack. I can't believe Mindy is doing this, yet I am powerless to stop her. The heat within me is overwhelming, and I am at my breaking point. I drive my hips upward, sending more of my cock into her mouth.

"Mindy, I'm going to cum."

She continues bobby her head.

Fuck me, she good."Mindy, I am going to cum," I manage to say again, before I can't help it, and explode into her mouth. My cock fires and keeps firing into her mouth for what seems like forever.

Finally, my hips relax, and Mindy lets my cock slip out between her lips.

She looks up at me, naked from the waist up, her dark brown nipples on full display.

Fuck, she is beautiful."You didn't have to do that," I say. I need her to know that I wasn't demanding that of her.