Chapter 2

I looked at my calendar and was happy to see I’d be interviewing Cassie after school. She was calmer and much more polite than abrasive Lynn and obnoxious Jackie. When she arrived, she wore jeans and a white blouse along with her usual hoop earrings and purity ring. She looked sad. When I asked what was wrong, she just said, “Mom and Dad had a fight. I don’t want to talk about it.”

I let her quietly smoke at the table while I recorded and stared at her lovely plump lips. After lighting a second cigarette, she said, “I don’t know if it’s a good time for this. I really don’t feel like talking.”

I told her, “That’s alright. You can just relax. Would you like a cola, grape juice, some milk?”

“Cola please?” She stared at the table, taking occasional sips from her can, thinking and smoking for a long time. I put fifty dollars on the table after her second cigarette, but she stayed another half hour. I kept watching and recording as she sucked drag after drag from two more cigarettes. I loved the times she pursed her lips together with only a small gap in the middle, forming long thin streams of smoke as she exhaled. I had a stray thought about her kissing the smoke goodbye as it left her mouth.

When she left I was a little concerned about her family, but didn’t want to spoil my research by getting emotionally close to her.

I had planned to interview Cassie’s mother Felicia again at 10 the next morning, but she showed up at 8:15. She was wearing red high heels and a tight red dress, which showed off the shape and size of her large breasts. She was also wearing large gold earrings and three thin gold chains. Her makeup had been streaked by tears.

Since she was so upset I forgot to turn on my camera, and this encounter is an approximation from memory. If I had a recording of it, my research wouldn’t gain anything, but it would be excellent for ... personal activities. Toward the end of our conversation, she started to slur some of her words but I’ll leave that out for clarity.

I asked, “What’s wrong?”

She wiped her eyes. “Ray and I had a fight. Not really a fight, but ... but...” She sputtered and tears started rolling down her cheeks. She hugged me and cried intensely for a minute or two. “I dressed up nice to see him off, but the last thing he said was ‘Don’t screw around while I’m away.’ It was horrible!”

“Sorry you’re having a bad time. It sounds like he’s a real prick.”

“No, he’s ... Can we just sit a minute? Maybe have a drink?”

“Sure. Let’s go down to the basement.”

She walked to the bar and looked around. She asked, “May I have some red wine? Since I don’t see any tequila.”

I asked in surprise, “Tequila before lunch?”

She chuckled. “I’m not an alcoholic, honest. I only drink a couple times a month. Today is just a crappy day.”

“I used to love tequila, until I discovered hangovers.” I poured her a glass of wine. I watched her drink and smoke as we had some small talk. We discussed the road construction a few blocks down, the nice weather, and other things that didn’t really matter.

She finished her second glass as she pointed to a bottle behind the bar. She said, “Rum rump.”

I asked, “Huh?”

“You love tequila, except for the hangovers. You have rum. I started dating Ray when I was 19, and my boyfriend before him used to get me rum. I liked rum and cola or rum and grapefruit juice. I know, that’s kind of weird, but I liked it. I loved rum until it led to me waking up with a sore ass.”

“WHAT?”

She poured another glass of the Merlot, lit another cigarette, then continued. “James, the guy before Ray, loved anal sex. After I broke up with him, he dated a man. Anyway, the second time we had sex, he asked if he could do my butt. I was scared it would hurt but he said if I drank a lot first it wouldn’t. It still hurts after you sober up, especially if the guy doesn’t use lube. Sometimes it hurts pretty bad.

I didn’t know at the time. I thought hurting after sex was normal, since parents and the church say sex is evil, and a sin, and blah blah. In the morning, James would say I had ‘rum rump’. It was bad at the time but now that I think about it, that’s kind of funny. I never told him no, since I didn’t want to lose him. I just tried to get drunk fast on our dates, so it wouldn’t hurt until after. I gave him my virginity at 18 and then my ass a couple times a week for half a year. I never had an orgasm with him, not once, only with my husband and ... just my husband.”

I could tell she was hiding something, but I sympathized. “I’m so sorry. That sounds awful!”

“It’s okay. I let Ray do it the first time a few months after we got married. He was always careful. He used plenty of K-Y and took his time, so it wouldn’t hurt me.”

“That’s good.”

“He was great about it. Every time, he asked if I wanted to and if I was nervous he wouldn’t. It feels strange in there, but if it doesn’t hurt it’s kind of nice. For a while, I was a real BUTT SLUT. Hahaha! We’d make love, then do anal nearly every night for maybe three months, then he lost interest. Sometimes I kind of miss it.”

I knew I was on dangerous ground, discussing such intimate things with a married woman. Especially a DRUNK married woman, who seemed to like me. I pointed at the clock. “My interviews are usually thirty minutes, but we’ve been talking two hours. Here you go.” I put two hundred dollars on the bar. “I’ll call you in a few days to set up another interview.”

“Could you just come over to my place instead? Or is it too far?”

She gulped down a final glass of wine as I laughed. I could walk from my kitchen to hers faster than I could get to my car and start it.

“I’ll talk to you soon.”

She wobbled as she started to stand up. “Whoa! Um, can you give me a hand? I’m kind of drunk.”

I wrapped her arm over my shoulders and helped her upstairs. She asked, “Can I get a nap before I go home, maybe in your bed?” She clumsily pulled the front of her bra down enough for me to see one of her big nipples ‘by accident’.

I was a little tempted but knew better. “Let’s get you to your house. You’ll be more comfortable there.” I helped her across the alley and laid her down on the sofa in her living room. As I left I said, “I’ll call you in a few days.”

When Lynn and Jackie showed up for their next interview, they had two younger girls with them. Lynn rapidly said, “Sorry, but Jackie and I are busy. There’s a frat party we can’t miss. We need you to watch our little sisters Beth and Jan.”

I tried to protest, “But we were supposed to do an interview. I’m not a...”

Jackie said, “We’ll be back by midnight”, then she whispered in my ear, “We’ll both give you blowjobs if you do.”

I futilely objected, “But I’m not a babysitter. What if...”

As Lynn led Jackie up the stairs at high speed, she called out, “THANKS!”

Apparently, I would be babysitting in exchange for oral sex and against my will. The nerdiest and most logical part of my mind wondered, ‘Does that qualify as rape?’

After several complaints of boredom from the 9 and 10-year-olds, then searching fifteen minutes in vain for something to entertain them, I decided to use my secret weapon, my bank account. I made a huge mistake by asking, “So girls, which video game do you like best, Nintendo, Playstation, or X-box?” Within moments they were shouting at each other.

I resolved it by taking them to a couple of stores. I bought a large television for the basement, a sofa, a recliner, and all three consoles with some games. A friend helped me carry the furniture down to the basement and we had everything set up by 2 pm. I practically had to force them to eat at 8. After supper, I fell asleep in the recliner as they played a racing game together. I woke about 10 and saw the two passing a lit cigarette back and forth! They were smoking and not even in middle school yet!

I knew what I had to do.

I got up slowly, walked around the room very quietly, and turned the cameras on. Once I was sure they were recording, I quietly sat back down and watched the little girls smoke with one of my eyes closed and the other only slightly open.

Jan sucked a little smoke into her mouth and blew it out pretending, but at only 9 years old, Beth was a real smoker already! She took deep drags, inhaled fully, then exhaled large puffy clouds. About an hour later I watched them do the same with another cigarette, then they fell asleep leaning on each other on the sofa. I stayed awake until 2am, but there was no sign of their older sisters.

This happened in the 90’s, before cell phones were common, or I would have been calling Jackie and Lynn repeatedly until they answered. When Jan woke me at 8am, there was still no sign of the older girls. I said, “I’m going to take you home to your parents. You know your addresses, right?”

Beth sounded like her obnoxious sister Lynn, as she said, “Are you MENTAL? We’re in 4th grade, not kindergarten! Don’t treat us like babies, buster!”

I mentioned, “We could get breakfast on the way. Would you like to eat at a nice restaurant?”

She instantly changed her attitude, “Yes, please.”

After breakfast I paid, then we walked toward my car. A policeman tackled me and threw cuffs on my wrists before he even said anything! I scraped up both my knees and the side of my face. Only seconds later, three more cops showed up. They quickly read me my rights, then put me in the back of a squad car without even asking me any questions! I would never hurt anybody, especially a child, but they thought I was some kind of monster!

I saw them talking to the little girls quite a while, then one of the cops let me out and took the cuffs off. He explained they had received three separate calls about the girls being missing, and they suspected I had kidnapped them!

Lynn and Jackie had showed up at my place shortly after we left. They were in the middle of freaking out when they called the police on me. In addition, both sets of parents had called the cops since they expected all the girls to be home at 10pm the previous night. The police sergeant said he would bring them home and I was free to go. I was beyond fed up with Lynn and Jackie. I hung up on them when they tried to call me.

Instead of walking across the alley to her house, I called Felicia. She waved at me through the window when she answered. I was very nervous about getting involved with her. Instead of filming at my house, I made an excuse about the weather being too beautiful for filming indoors and took her to a park.

I didn’t ask any questions, but recorded her smoking in a gray miniskirt and a tight black t-shirt, with her pretty blonde hair blowing in the breeze. I had her lay down on a picnic table and orbited her very slowly, recording her smoking from all angles. She smiled knowingly when I paused near her feet and recorded up her skirt. On the video you can clearly see her red g-string and some of her pubic hair.

I made a copy of the video later and used it for ‘personal reasons’ dozens of times in bed. I thanked her and said I wished I wasn’t too busy to see her for a few months. She was disappointed but seemed to understand.

Later that summer, Felicia’s daughter Cassie knocked on my door one Sunday morning. “Hi Mr. Townsend.” She wore white and blue sneakers, loose blue jeans, a pink t-shirt, and half a dozen necklaces made of black plastic beads. Another necklace had mostly black beads with a few of various colors, blue, pink, red, green. I noticed she still wore the purity ring.

“Hi, Cassie.”

“Um, my mom and dad went on a trip with my sister Teri, and they won’t be back for a week. Some tennis thing two states away. And, um...” She was chewing a large wad of gum and looked anxious. I noticed a small spasm in one of her fingers, then she scratched her arm.

I asked, “And you’re out of cigarettes? Let’s talk downstairs, so I can avoid catching you again.” She laughed as I led her to the basement. I had her sit at the bar. “I’ll bring some cigarettes over in just a minute. Don’t steal them.” I winked and angled the camera so it would record both Cassie and her reflection in the bar mirror, so there were two of her. “When did you have your last cigarette?

“Over a whole day!” She looked at the clock on the wall and thought a moment. “30 hours.”

“Describe what the withdrawal feels like, please?”

“It SUCKS! I have a headache. I’m nervous and kind of angry for no reason. If I don’t stop them, my fingers twitch. I feel like I have bugs crawling on my arms and legs. I just ate, but I still feel hungry. Not really hungry, more like I need to chew on something.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds terrible. Here.” I put a pack of Marlboro 100s on bar near her.

She took the gum out of her mouth and dropped it in the trash. “I usually smoke regulars, if you have some.”

“I do if you don’t like the 100s, but please try one.”

“Okay.” She pulled a long white cigarette from the pack and put the tan filter end between her lips. I saw her hand shake a little as she lit it. She took several rapid puffs and her frown slowly changed to a big smile. “Aaah! I needed that SO BAD! These taste the same. I like them.”

“I’m glad. I think the longer ones look elegant. More delicate and feminine, and they last longer. I’ll record you smoking a couple and you can ‘steal’ a few more packs.”

“Cool!”

“Your mother likes menthols. Have you tried them?”

“I got started on menthols, Salems that I took from Mom. I don’t like menthol much though. They remind me of cough medicine and being sick.”

“Nice necklaces. Did you make them?”

“Yeah.” She held up the one with mostly black beads and a few colored ones. “I made them for how I felt. I used to be super-sad ALL THE TIME, but it’s not so bad lately. This one reminds me there are some good things. The pink bead is for my grandma. These three are my friends. This blue one is you.”

I smiled. “I’m glad I’m a good part of your life.” She smiled back.

“Your parents left you alone, and you’re how old?”

“Almost eighteen, I’m not a kid. My aunt visits every day, and my grandma calls.”

“That’s good. If you have an emergency, you can come over here, too.”

She giggled, “I know! That’s what I just did!” I smiled.

I wondered and asked, “If your mother smokes menthols, and your father doesn’t smoke, how do you get regular cigarettes most of the time?”

“Grandma and my aunt pay me to help clean their houses, and my sister buys them for me. She’s 19 now. She charges me an extra ten bucks a carton, though. Greedy cow!”

I laughed and asked, “Why do you call her a cow?”

“Are you BLIND? Her chest is HUGE! Bigger than Mom’s even!”

“I didn’t notice.” I honestly hadn’t.

At that moment Cassie realized something. “You notice me and Mom. Teri doesn’t smoke, but we do. Hahaha! Are you some kind of weirdo that likes watching girls smoke?”

I blushed furiously and meekly admitted, “Yes. It’s called a smoking fetish. You’re safe. I only watch.”

“It’s kind of strange, but I know you’re just a friendly nerd. If you pay to talk to me and I get cigs sometimes, it’s fine.”

“I’m glad. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

She said, “I won’t tell, if you don’t tell I do this.” I stared and recorded as she blew half a cigarette worth of smoke rings before she put it out.

I set three more packs of Marlboro 100’s on the bar and sarcastically said, “Don’t steal those.” I turned away as she said, “Thanks again.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her put them in her purse.

As she started walking up the stairs, I said, “Call me in a few months, and we’ll do another interview.”

“Sure.”

One night a few weeks later was terrifying. There was a knock at my front door as I was about to go to bed. A large, tall man was holding an envelope and didn’t look happy. He handed it to me and said, “I’m Ray, Felicia’s husband. I’m no good with words, so I wrote it down. If you screw her or touch my daughters...”

He opened the front of his jacket, revealing a large revolver in an underarm holster. The gun was only a little scarier than his size! He was about six foot six, muscular, and over 250 pounds!

I held my hands up and pleaded, “I ... I only talked to them! Really! I swear! Please!”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Just read it.”

When he walked away I shut and locked the door, then ran to the back door and locked that too. I tried to open the envelope, but my hands were shaking too much. I sat on my bed and took several deep breaths. Finally, I opened and read it.

“I had a lot of trouble with my wife before, but we made a deal. She says you’re a good guy. I’ll have some fun with a lady at work, and Felicia can have fun with you when I’m away. Blowjobs, play with her tits, munch her butt, whatever, just don’t screw her. She’s my wife, so her pussy belongs to ME. Don’t tell anybody, and don’t touch her in public. If I’m away, have fun in private.