Pandoras Box 20

PANDORA'S BOX

This is a companion (if not necessarily a sequel) to

End of Days: The Temptation of April

posted May 2, 2004 on a now defunct Smoking Fan Fiction website.

PART 1 -- Temptations of the Flesh

"Oh yes," Stephanie Lam whispered as Spencer's lips touched her soft neck. "Yes, right there. Please...don't stop." She placed his hand onto her right breast, encouraging him to squeeze it, while her own hand was lightly caressing the crotch of his pants. Was this the night that they would finally go all the way? It was time to find out.

She delicately slipped her right hand into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his bulging penis. It was warm and sweaty. She felt the cum oozing out of the tip as she gave it a light stroke. Spencer let out a moan but did not tell her to stop as he had done in the past.

Yes,

Stephanie thought to herself,

an encouraging sign; tonight

is

the night.

She gave Spencer's cock a second gentle stroke, and he gave out another moan as his kisses on her neck grew more intense. The cramped space between his dick and his pants made it difficult for her wrist to start any up and down rhythm, but she continued as best as she could, fearing that if she pulled her hand out to undo his zipper that the moment would be lost. Besides, she thought, how naughty it would be to make him cum in his pants.

How would he explain THAT to his father?

Another stroke and another approving moan gave her yet more hope.

But she wanted to feel that pleasure, too. She gently moved Spencer's hand squeezing her breast down between her legs. She waited for the caresses to start, but the hand sat motionless. She placed her palm on top of his knuckles and moved her fingers up and down, indicating through hand motions what she wanted him to do; but Spencer continued to hesitate. And then the worst began to unfold as his dick started to go limp and the kisses on her neck stopped. There would be no creamy discharge tonight.

Stephanie sighed as she pulled her hand out of Spencer's pants and sat back in the passenger's seat of Spencer's car.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered apologetically.

"It's okay," Stephanie lied as she turned away. She didn't know whether to scream or cry. Instead, she focused on the moths flying around a bright street light at the other end of the campus parking lot where they were parked. As the moths drew too closely to the lamp, they bounced off like golf balls on a driving range; and no matter how many times they were repelled by the heat of the lamp, they continued to be attracted to it. At that moment, Stephanie could understand the frustration of a moth.

"I just..." Spencer began, but he didn't know what to say to finish the sentence.

"Is it me?" Stephanie asked as she continued to watch the moths bounce off the lamp.

"No, of course, not," Spencer said quietly. "It's only been two months since we met," he added. "Let's not rush things."

Stephanie felt humiliation wash over her with that last comment.

Isn't that what a girl is supposed to say to an overeager boy?

If she didn't care so deeply about Spencer, she would have walked out of the car that very instant. But she

did

love him -- or at least, she felt what she thought love was supposed to be. The feelings she had for Spencer were different from any other guy she had dated; and, to put it delicately, Stephanie had some "experience" in the art of intimacy during her high school years when she went through a wild (her counselor called it grief stricken) stage after the death of her mother in an automobile accident. She had more than a few boy friends and was sexually intimate with each; but Spencer was different.

She was immediately attracted to his handsome physique, his blue eyes, and blonde hair when they first met at freshman orientation; and she found his rather shy demeanor endearing. The acne scars on his cheeks and chiseled chin gave him a tough-guy look, but with a heart of gold. She could also tell that he was attracted to her not because he wanted a blow job (like the jocks she dated in high school), but because he really cared for her. For the first time, she believed she was actually in love.

What she didn't bargain for was that her first love would be the son of a Pentecostal minister; and the sermons about original sin had clearly made an impact on Spencer who just could not push himself to go any further than kissing. Try as she might, Stephanie had not yet found a way to make him totally surrender; and her patience was wearing thin.

"Do you love me?" Stephanie asked sadly as she continued to watch the moths bounce off the street lamp.

"You know I do," Spencer replied sincerely. "I'm just...," he paused to find the right words to say; "...trying to work through this."

It was only 8 pm on a Saturday night, but the mood was now spoiled. "Let's go back," Stephanie said as she stepped out of the car and got into the front passenger seat.

It was a quiet drive back to the dorm.

Why can't I do this,

Spencer thought to himself. He was certain of his feelings for Stephanie. From the moment he first saw her, he was struck by the beauty of this Asian American 19 year old. Her long black hair, pencil thin eye brows, and long, gorgeous face gave her the look of a model; and he was attracted to her confident and bubbly personality. He couldn't believe that of all the men she could have, she would choose to be with him. So why couldn't he give her what she wanted -- and, he knew in his heart, what he wanted, too?

Both Spencer and Stephanie lived in student housing on the university campus (though in different dorms), but on Saturdays he was expected home to attend Sunday service at his father's church. "I'll walk you to your hall," Spencer said. Stephanie wished that he wouldn't, but she made no reply.

As the two walked silently hand in hand, both noticed that an Asian American classmate who lived in the same dorm as Stephanie's was sitting in the courtyard smoking a long cigarette.

"Hey you two," Lisa Kang said with a wave of a Virginia Slims 120 between her fingers.

Spencer waved back with a smile. Lisa was without a doubt the second most beautiful Asian American woman he had ever known. If he wasn't already with Stephanie, he would have by now asked her out on a date. What he never expected was that she was a smoker, and his heart beat a little faster as that smoking fetish he always fought so hard to suppress suddenly bubbled up.

Spencer had never before smoked a cigarette. Being home schooled by his preacher father, he never would have had the opportunity to do so even if he had wanted to. But for reasons unknown to him, he was smitten with Asian women; and nothing -- absolutely nothing -- turned him on more than seeing an attractive, young Asian female smoke a cigarette -- the longer the better. Was it because Asian females were stamped with the sweet and docile "good girl" stereotype that he got a hard-on every time he saw one even

holding

a cigarette? He didn't know. He didn't care. And did this son of a preacher feel guilty even thinking such thoughts? Most certainly. It was a moral conflict he found impossible to resolve.

"What's this?" Spencer said in a teasing voice when he and Stephanie were standing in front of Lisa. "You're smoking now?"

Lisa grinned widely. "The pressure of school, don't you know," she responded and placed the Virginia Slims between her lips for a sexy puff. After exhaling an exquisite smoky cone, she said, "I fell off the wagon during midterms last week." Spencer and Stephanie looked at her skeptically. "Okay," Lisa admitted, "I

jumped

off! God, I love smoking."

"Aren't you pre-med?" Stephanie asked in disbelief.

"I'll quit one day, but not today," Lisa replied after exhaling a cloud of smoke that hung heavily in the air around her before a breeze picked it up and slowly engulfed Spencer's face. "Oh, sorry about that," Lisa said with a smile that indicated she wasn't sorry at all.

Spencer didn't mind. He was, in fact, in absolute heaven breathing in Lisa's second hand smoke. What a beauty she was with that 120. It was the perfect length for her slender body build. Her long, thin fingers held that white cylinder so delicately. For a split second he wondered if he had asked out the wrong girl during Freshman orientation.

Oh, if only Stephanie

...but before he finished that thought, he came to his senses.

He could never take a smoker home to his Dad.

Moreover, he was now starting to feel guilty that he was getting a boner from a woman who was NOT his girl friend. He looked down at his watch. "I should go," he said to Stephanie.

"Okay," Stephanie replied softly.

"I'm sorry about tonight," he whispered as he hugged her.

'It's okay," Stephanie replied; but of course it wasn't okay. She felt awful.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said before turning to leave. Stephanie walked over to Lisa and with a sigh sat down in the chair next to her.

"Pretty early for you to be back," Lisa said after exhaling a cloud of smoke into the wind. "Everything okay?"

"Uh-huh," Stephanie replied as she looked down at her feet. She wasn't really eager to open herself up to Lisa who was more of an acquaintance from than a close friend. "Just 'man' trouble."

"Hmm..." Lisa hummed as smoke poured out of her nose. "You look like you could use a cigarette," and she offered the pack of Virginia Slims to her companion.

I COULD really use a cigarette right now,

Stephanie thought to herself, but then decided against it. "No thanks," she said as she stood up. "I think I'll just go read a book or something in my room."

"Oh, come on, it's Saturday night! Come out with me and the other girls. They'll be down in a few minutes."

"Thanks, but I'm not really up to it." And then so as not to appear rude, she added. "Raincheck?"

Lisa dropped her cigarette on the ground and crushed it with her shoe. "Call me if you wanna talk," she said as she reached for the pack on the table. She pulled out a fresh 120 and lit it freehanded as she watched her classmate walk into the dorm.

------------------

Stephanie opened the door to her room and saw an Asian woman with short black hair wearing a white turtle-neck sweater and designer blue jeans crouching over a duffle bag that she was unpacking. "Excuse me," Stephanie said, shocked to see this stranger in her room.

The woman turned around quickly and stood up. "Hi," she said with a wide smile as she held out her arm to shake hands, "I'm Jezzie!" Tall and thin, Stephanie guessed she was in her early thirties. She was also stunningly beautiful.

"Where's Susan?" Stephanie asked quizzically while shaking her hand.

"It's just terrible," Jezzie replied as she returned to her duffle bag and continued to unpack. "Something about her appendix bursting." Jezzie spun her face towards Stephanie and with a look of concern said, "Can you imagine how awful that would be?" She then turned back to her duffle bag. "Anyway, she'll be out for the rest of the quarter. So Student Housing gave me a call and said this spot was available." Jezzie put some socks and underwear in her dresser.

She then stood up with a stack of towels in her hand. "So we have to share the bathroom here, huh? Too bad they're not co-ed, eh?" Jezzie laughed at her own joke as she put the towels into the closet, took a few steps back towards the dresser, and plopped down on her bed like an overeager teenager.

Could this night get any worse,

Stephanie thought to herself. It was bad enough she didn't experience the orgasm she had been hoping for all week. Now she had to deal with a new roommate who was possibly twice her age. She sat down on the bed across from Jezzie. "You're not a freshman are you," she said as delicately as possible without trying to offend the woman.

"I prefer the term

returning student

," Jezzie said in haughty voice. "I imagine it's pretty awkward for you to suddenly have to get used to a new roommate," she continued, "but I promise to make it as easy as possible on you. I'm outta here as soon as I complete my senior essay on Amy Tam...."

"You're studying Amy Tam?"

Stephanie interrupted excitedly, "I LOVE Amy Tam's writings!"

"Really?" Jezzie gushed. "So you're an Asian American Lit major?"

Stephanie suddenly felt an instant bond with this new roommate. After all, anyone who loved Amy Tam -- whom Stephanie could talk about for hours -- couldn't be all bad. Susan was nice, but she was a biology major, so they virtually had nothing in common. What a stroke of luck, Stephanie thought to herself, to now have a roommate with the same obscure major as her own. Somehow she just knew that they were going to be close.

"So which is your favorite book," Jezzie asked.

****************

Spencer drove home tormented by two conflicting images in his mind. One image was of his sweet, beautiful Stephanie -- his first real love -- who no matter how hard he tried, he could not consecrate his relationship with her. The other image was of Lisa smoking that wonderfully long, white cigarette -- and with her he wanted to commit such carnal, lustful acts that he felt ashamed thinking about them. All of Spencer's father's sermons and teachings had accomplished their goal: he was both sexually and emotionally totally

fucked up.

Spencer was only five when his mother died, leaving him to be raised alone by a father who was more devoted to his congregation than to the emotional needs of his son. Father Greg was a stern evangelical fundamentalist who firmly believed that every word in the Bible was the word of the Lord. Not only did he strive to live by God's teachings, but he expected no less a commitment from his son. Rock and roll CDs were forbidden, as were fantasy books (Spencer resorted to reading

Harry Potter

at the library so his father wouldn't know). Viewing any media that might promote Satan-inspired "alternative lifestyles" were prevented by not having a TV in the household. And, of course, access to the web was strictly limited with parental blocks on what could be viewed by Spencer (who wasn't even allowed a cell phone until he left for college).

Spencer didn't have to be a psych major to know how destructive a relationship he had with his father. But he was also well aware of how dependent he was on him. He went to college on his father's dime; he lived in his father's house during the school breaks; he ate his father's food. Until he could graduate and find work, he was stuck; but he was looking forward to the day he would be free of this ecclesiastical tyrant who warned of promised-damnation upon any individual who didn't follow HIS teachings.

Spencer lived about 30 miles away from the college out in farm country. He had vague memories of living in the suburbs at one time, but soon after his mother died, his father moved him out to a rural section of the city where the roads were only two lanes and the street lights were non-existent. Spencer slowed down to 15 mph as he veered right at Dead Man's Corner, an almost 90 degree turn that had seen more than a few deaths from drunk drivers and speeders. In ten minutes from that point, Spencer was turning into the drive-way of the Jesus Our Redeemer Evangelical Church. He drove down the short dirt road to the clergy home and offices behind the meetinghouse. It was only 9:00 pm, so he knew his father would still be up in his study revising his sermon for the next morning. He hoped, however, that he would be able to sneak in the front door without being noticed. Those hopes were dashed when he heard the deep baritone voice of his father call out from the study, "Spencer?"

"Yes, Father?" Most kids call their fathers "Dad," but Father Greg would never allow such familiarity, even from his own son.

"You're home early this Saturday night, Spencer. That's good." Spencer, of course, would rather have been wrapped in the arms of Stephanie at that moment, but his father didn't need to know why. Then the usual questions began as his father continued to look down at the nearly-finished sermon on his desk. "Were you fornicating tonight, my son?"

"No, father," Spencer replied as usual.

"Were you smoking or drinking tonight?"

"No, father."

"Did you commit any sins that you need to confess before God?" Father Greg raised his head and focused his brown eyes intensely on Spencer's face.

Spencer hesitated for a few seconds, but not long enough to raise any suspicions. "No, father."

"That's good, my son," his father replied, "I feel the spirit of the Lord moving through my pen tonight as I write this sermon. I'll have an important message to give tomorrow."

"Yes father," Spencer replied dutifully.

"I was just getting ready to pray," Father Greg said as he got up from behind his desk and began to kneel. "Why don't you join me?"

Spencer knew this wasn't a request his father was making of him, and so he proceeded to get down on his knees and close his eyes. Spencer knew the routine; since his mother died when he was 5 years old, he'd been repeating it every night until he finally moved into the dorms.

"Heavenly Father," the priest began, "we thank you for the blessings you have bestowed upon us: food to eat, a roof over our heads, and the opportunity to learn about the world through your teachings."

Oh man, here it comes,

Spencer thought to himself.

"But we know that Satan is cunning; that he and his minions will tempt us mercilessly with unholy pleasures. Shield us, oh Lord, from these temptations of the flesh, and keep us focused on doing your work instead of being misdirected by sinful lust."

Spencer felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Why did he let Stephanie masturbate him tonight? He should have put a stop to it immediately.

But it felt so good,

a voice in the back of his mind said -- and try as he might, he could not silence that voice.

"Oh Lord, I ask that you guide my son towards righteousness. Steer him clear of fornication, intemperance, drugs and tobacco so as not to be tempted to sin against you. In your name," Father Greg concluded, "amen."

"Amen," Spencer whispered as he opened his eyes.

As soon as the prayer was done, Father Greg stood up and went back to his desk, his mind once again consumed with the unfinished sermon in front of him.

Spencer got up off his knees and stood in front of the desk. "Good night, Father," he said, looking in vain for some sign of tenderness; or at least recognition. But a quick "good night" was the only response he got from the priest who didn't even bother to look up.

Spencer walked out of the study and closed the door behind him.

His father often spoke in his sermons about the healing power of prayer, but Spencer still felt as conflicted emotionally as he had when he got down on his knees. And these emotions stayed with him as he lay in bed, thinking about his evening with Stephanie. Never before had they gone so far in their intimacy. As he started to replay the events from the backseat of the car in his mind, his dick grew hard and long. So fearful of damnation was he that this 19 year old had never even masturbated before. And the few wet dreams he had in his mid-teen years were followed by days of shame and prayer. He could therefore only imagine what a real life orgasm must be like. What would it have felt like to actually cum into Stephanie's hand?

But then an image he had not expected suddenly entered his thoughts: Lisa smoking that beautiful long, thin cigarette. Spencer never realized how sheltered a life he had lived as a home schooled student until he went to college. To watch Lisa smoke excited him in a way that not even Stephanie had managed to do.

The tip of his dick was leaking profusely now and he slowly moved his hand over the growing wet spot on his underwear, just as Stephanie had a few hours before. He imagined Lisa taking a long puff and snapping back a thick ball of smoke into her mouth. Oh, what bliss it would bring him to watch Stephanie bring a long cigarette to her lips and make the tip glow; to deeply inhale the creamy sphere into her lungs, followed by a river of smoke cascading down through her nostrils. He knew that just a few more strokes accompanying these images would probably do it. Was he ready to risk damnation?