Lori Joins the Swim Team

                        Lori Joins the Swim Team
                                  by
                               Kool Guy


     Lori extracted another cigarette from the nearly empty pack in her
     purse. She had one more unopened pack after that was gone. "God," she
     thought, "I hope this will be enough to last me until I get home this
     afternoon." Lori tried to make sure she always had at least two full
     packs of cigarettes in her purse. She couldn't bear the thought of
     running out. Lori had been smoking three packs of full-flavored
     Marlboro Reds per day for over two years now. She loved to smoke. It
     aroused her to think of how much tar she had built up inside her lungs
     in such a short period of time. It aroused her even more to think of
     all the tar she would add to the tar already there, how it would
     become a permanent part of her wonderful lungs. This was her senior
     year of high school. She couldn't wait to graduate so she would have
     more time to smoke. The hardest part of school was sitting through an
     entire class without being able to smoke. Her hands were usually
     shaking by the end of each class.

     Lori placed the cigarette into her mouth. She loved the feel of the
     firm round filter between her lips. This feeling alone was enough to
     make her moist, but it paled in comparison to the feeling she got when
     a deep, full drag of tar-enriched cigarette smoke came rushing down
     her esophagus and into her craving lungs. As she flicked the little
     wheel on her Bic lighter, she exhaled heavily through her nose to
     create a near-vacuum inside her already blackened lungs. She then
     touched the end of the flame to her cigarette. She heard the crackle
     and pop of the tiny burning tobacco flakes as the force from Lori's
     long, deep draw pulled the flame inward. With her cheeks deeply
     indented, she removed her cigarette and opened her mouth. For an
     instant a large, thick, creamy ball of rich, toxic smoke appeared to
     stand still in her mouth. Then her internal vacuum took over. Lori's
     entire chest began to expand as the ball of smoke was sucked down her
     throat and into her beautiful dark lungs. The force of her inhale was
     so great that she could feel the smoke saturating every cell of her
     foul-smelling lung tissue.

     Lori was chaining her third cigarette of the ten-minute break between
     her first- and second-hour classes. As she held her first drag deep
     down in her unhealthy air passages, she prepared for her second drag.
     She exhaled very lightly through her nose, just enough to release the
     inevitable oxygen which was pulled into her lungs with her first drag,
     but not enough to release any of the nicotine-rich cloud of orgasmic
     joy. Her second drag was every bit as long and deep as her first one.
     She could feel the smoke mixing with the smoke from her first drag as
     a shudder rippled through her body.

     The third drag of Lori's patented triple-pump was the deepest one of
     all. The tip of her cigarette glowed brightly for a full twenty
     seconds before she inhaled the large lung-bucketful of poisonous
     toxins deep into her overtaxed organs of inhalation. She was holding
     her book bag between her legs as she slowly rubbed her pussy back and
     forth against the binding of her American history book.

     Lori frequently became so aroused from her own smoking during these
     between-class cigarette breaks that she would go into one of the
     toilet stalls and masturbate. While dangling her cigarette from her
     full, sensuous lips she would pull her panties down, pinch her hard
     nipples with her left hand, and reach up into her warm, wet vagina
     with her right hand. She could often bring herself to climax two, even
     three, times in the time it took her to smoke one cigarette.

     Lori was just about to head into a toilet stall when she saw a notice
     on the restroom wall. It said that tryouts for the girls' swimming
     team would be held at the pool that night after school. Lori had
     always been a good swimmer. Her father had taught her to swim as a
     little girl. Her family had a pool in their backyard and Lori's
     parents had been fanatical about making sure that Lori could swim
     before they let her out in the backyard alone. Lori would often spend
     summer afternoons swimming laps in her pool. She believed that it was
     her years of swimming that had allowed her to become such a prolific
     smoker. Her once pink, spongy lungs had become so well-developed from
     swimming that Lori could inhale more smoke, and hold it in longer,
     than anyone else in her group of friends who smoked. Yes, Lori's
     lungs, now black and brittle, were wonderful, indeed.

     As Lori was reading the notice on the wall she heard a whiny nasal
     voice behind her say, "Ha! What are YOU doing reading THAT, Lori? You
     can't swim. You smoke too much!" It was Suzi Matthews, the resident
     stuck-up bitch and captain of the girls' swim team. Lori turned to
     Suzi with a look of complete and utter disregard and exhaled the
     entire contents of her sensuous black lungs, which were still holding
     the triple-pump from Lori's nearly exhausted cigarette, directly into
     Suzi's face. Suzi started gagging and ran out of the restroom
     screaming, "You bitch! You fucking bitch!"

     Lori took one last long, deep drag from her little lover and flicked
     him into the toilet. She said, "Be careful, my cancer-causing friend,
     you might drown!" Smoke was pouring from Lori's nostrils as she walked
     down the hall toward her second-hour class.

     As the hour dragged by Lori thought about how much she wanted a
     cigarette. She also thought about the swim team. She had no desire to
     actually join the swim team. That would take too much time away from
     her most important extra-curricular activity, smoking. But she wanted
     to do something to show up that bitch, Suzi Matthews. As she thought
     about it she cleared her throat in that wonderful gurgly way that had
     become her trademark. She then coughed just hard enough to force up a
     rubbery wad of lung phlegm from the deepest recesses of her already
     deteriorating lungs. She didn't swallow the phlegm ball. She let it
     slide around in her mouth as her tongue turned it over and over. She
     could taste the nicotine that had saturated her phlegm just as it
     saturated every one of her bodily secretions. The burning taste of the
     nicotine was wonderful and provided Lori a momentary respite from her
     now desperate craving for cigarettes. As the bell rang to signal the
     end of second hour Lori swallowed hard and rushed for the restroom.

     As Lori stepped off the school bus she broke into a sprint toward her
     house. By the time she reached her front door she was panting. By the
     time she had made it upstairs to her bedroom she was emitting a
     hoarse, rapid wheezing sound. She pulled open her bureau drawer and
     pulled out an unopened carton of cigarettes. She took a fresh pack
     from the carton and plopped back on her bed with her legs dangling
     over the side of the bed. Lori had finished her last cigarette on the
     school bus. She was desperate for another one. She quickly pulled off
     the little strip and removed the top of the cellophane wrapper. Lori
     loved the feel of a fresh pack of cigarettes. She would often slide
     the smooth shiny surface of the pack back and forth against her
     breasts as she masturbated with a cigarette dangling from her lips.
     There was no time for that now, though. She carefully inserted the
     fingernail of her index finger underneath the foil and tore it off in
     a neat little square. She then tapped the open end of the pack against
     her fist and shook loose a fresh, new cigarette. The first cigarette
     from a new pack was always the best, she thought. She was almost
     drooling by the time she placed the cigarette between her lips and lit
     up. As the smoke started making its way down her brown-speckled
     esophagus, and precious nicotine started flowing through her
     constricted blood vessels, Lori started rubbing her pussy with the
     palm of her hand. "This must be what heaven is like," she thought.

     After three more cigarettes, Lori was feeling normal again. She
     grabbed her bathing suit and a towel, stuffed them into her duffel
     bag, along with three packs of cigarettes, the one she had just
     opened, and two new ones, and headed back to school.

     As Lori approached the pool she saw Mr. Stickel, the swimming coach,
     barking instructions to the other girls who were lined up along the
     edge of the pool. In addition to serving as the girls' swimming Coach,
     Mr. Stickel was a biology teacher. Lori was in his fourth hour biology
     class. "Oh my God!" shouted Suzi. "Mr. Stickel! Look at Lori! She's
     smoking a cigarette!"

     Mr. Stickel turned around to see Lori with her full, round breasts
     barely concealed by her two-piece string bikini and a cigarette
     dangling from her lips. He cleared his throat and said, "Lori, you
     can't wear a suit like that on the swim team. It's a little too, uh,
     revealing. You'll have to change into a one-piece. And, I'm afraid
     there's no smoking allowed in here."

     In her best little girl voice Lori said, "Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr.
     Stickel. I'll put it out right away." She took one final long, deep
     drag and dropped the burning butt to the floor where she crushed it
     out with her bare foot. Mr. Stickel moved his clipboard down and held
     it in front of his crotch. Lori said, "This is the only bathing suit I
     have. Couldn't I wear this today, please? I promise to bring the right
     one next time." Mr. Stickel's face began to flush. He said, "Well, all
     right, but just for today."

     Lori knew she could twist Mr. Stickel around her little finger. He had
     caught her smoking on numerous occasions. Usually he would take her
     into his office and give her long lectures on the evils of smoking,
     but lately he had become much more tolerant. Just the previous week he
     had caught Lori in the school parking lot smoking a cigarette when she
     was supposed to be in study hall. Lori saw him and said, "You caught
     me again, Mr. Stickel. I'll put it out."

     "No, no, no!" said Mr. Stickel. "You don't have to do that. You see,
     uh, technically, the parking lot is not on school grounds, so I can't
     order you to stop smoking. In fact, to tell you the truth, I came out
     here to have a cigarette myself. It gets so stuffy in the teachers'
     smoking lounge. Why don't you light up another one and I'll join you!"
     Lori was only too happy to comply as she watched the noticeable bulge
     in Mr. Stickel's pants.

     Suzi screamed, "She can't join the swim team! She smokes! She can't
     even swim one lap!"

     "I can kick your ass with one lung tied behind my back," quipped Lori.

     "You bitch!" shouted Suzi. "You couldn't beat me in a million years."

     "Put your money where your mouth is. Let's have a race," said Lori.

     "What a laugh! I'm not racing you, you wheezing, smelly, old
     smokestack!"

     "OK, here's the deal," said Lori in her throaty voice. We swim four
     laps--you against me. If you win, I'll leave and that will be the end
     of my swimming career. If I win, I'm on the swim team and you have to
     get down on your hands and knees and kiss my ass in front of the
     entire team."

     "You're crazy! You can't do that! Right, Mr. Stickel?"

     "Hmmm," said Mr. Stickel. "You're not afraid of a little challenge
     from a 'wheezing, smelly, old smokestack', are you?" The clipboard was
     still firmly in place over his crotch.

     "From her?" shouted Suzi. "Of course not! She could never even finish
     four laps."

     "Well, I think it's a good idea," said Mr. Stickel. "What do you
     think, girls?"

     The rest of the team thought it was a great idea. They all hated Suzi,
     anyway. She was such a stuck-up little bitch. They wanted to see Lori
     humiliate Suzi.

     Suzi realized she was backed into a corner. She had to accept Lori's
     challenge or she would look like a chickenshit stuck-up little bitch.
     She reluctantly agreed.

     Mr. Stickel said, "OK, ladies. We'll begin the race in five minutes.
     Go ahead and prepare yourselves."

     Suzi went over to her belongings and pulled out her bathing cap and a
     pair of goggles. She tucked her hair up inside of her bathing cap and
     put on the goggles. Then she sat down and started doing a few
     stretching routines. Lori went over to her duffel bag and lit up a
     cigarette.

     Lori was trying to smoke fast. She wanted to make sure she would have
     time for one more cigarette before the race began. She didn't care who
     saw her smoking. She knew Mr. Stickel wouldn't say anything. Not now!

     "Time's up, ladies! Take your positions," shouted Mr. Stickel. They
     would use the two middle lanes, Lori on the left and Suzi on the
     right.

     "On your marks!" yelled Mr. Stickel. Each girl crouched down into the
     diving position.

     "Get set!" Lori pulled up her cupped hand which had been concealing a
     half-smoked lit cigarette. She took one final enormous drag and
     flicked her cigarette into the pool directly in front of Suzi.

     "Go!" As Lori jumped in with smoke pouring from her nostrils she could
     hear Suzi screaming, "Ewwww! Gross! You bitch! You fucking bitch!"

     The first lap wasn't too bad for Lori. She had a fairly comfortable
     lead over Suzi. But midway through the second lap she could feel a
     burning sensation deep in her chest. By the beginning of the third lap
     she was really in trouble.

     Lori has emitting a deep, hoarse rasping sound. She was having trouble
     catching her breath. She was still ahead of Suzi, but Suzi was gaining
     rapidly!

     Somehow Lori kept going! Her head was buzzing and spinning. Her heart
     was beating rapidly. She thought her lungs would explode. As she
     approached the final turn, Lori was hyperventilating. She could not
     catch her breath. She felt like she was going to black out. She was
     starting to swallow huge mouthfuls of water. Somehow she managed the
     final turn. As her head popped out of the water, she turned it toward
     Suzi's lane and let loose with a large mass of dark brown vomit. The
     vomit formed a thick floating puddle on the surface of the water. As
     Lori pushed off the wall with her feet she could hear Suzi screaming,
     "Oh my God! How disgusting! You fucking bitch! You mother-fucking
     bitch!"

     As Suzi was spitting out brown chunky bits of nicotine-flavored vomit,
     Lori was pulling away. Releasing the vomit had seemed to clear her
     head. She felt a sudden surge of energy. If she could just make it to
     the finish line!

     Each breath Lori took sent a searing pain through her rasping throat
     and burning chest. She was wheezing heavily! God, how she wanted a
     cigarette! The thought seemed to stimulate her, and, with a final
     burst, Lori lunged for the finish line. As her hand touched the wall,
     everything went black.

     Lori opened her eyes to find Mr. Stickel with his mouth over hers.
     With a quick reflexive action, her knee jerked up into his nuts and
     she pushed him off of her. He doubled over in agony. Lori stood up and
     shook her head to clear the cobwebs. Her throat was so sore she could
     barely speak. In a raspy whisper she said, "What happened?"

     "You did it, Lori! You kicked Suzi's ass!" shouted the other girls.
     "Suzi ran out of here crying. You blacked out and Mr. Stickel started
     giving you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

     "I never realized the tongue was used during mouth-to-mouth
     resuscitation. Is that your own technique, Mr. Stickel?" said Lori as
     she gave him another swift kick to the testicles. Mr. Stickel was now
     groaning and moaning loudly as he rolled around on the floor. As Lori
     walked away from him a smile crossed her face as she realized, "At
     least I'll be able to smoke in Mr. Stickel's biology class, now. He
     won't dare say a God damn thing to me!"

     Lori walked over to her duffel bag and pulled out her cigarettes. She
     had never needed a cigarette so badly. She lit up and took a long,
     deep, satisfying drag. She held the smoke in as she added a second,
     third, and, yes, a fourth drag on top of the first one. It was the
     rare quadruple-pump. Lori could feel the thick toxic smoke coating the
     insides of her sticky, tar-covered, blackened lungs. She held the
     smoke in until it felt as if it had permeated right through her lungs
     and into the rest of her tingling body. Lori had lost a lot of her
     hard-earned tar back in the pool. She was anxious to replace it!

     The rest of the girls ran up to Lori. One said, "Welcome to the team,
     Lori!"

     Lori said, "Girls, I'm afraid my swimming days are over. These old
     lungs of mine are not what they used to be."

     Truer words were never spoken. For, with each drag, with each
     lung-saturating inhale, with each new coating of tar and
     nicotine-saturated particles, Lori's lungs became more and more
     glorious.