Tobacco free porn video

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Late one Sunday morning, two gentlemen were sitting in the corner of the large, oak-paneled hall of their alumni club. It must have been at least ten years ago, when one could still smoke in New York, one was beginning to refill his pipe. As he loosened the tobacco in the round tin, he suddenly snorted with a slight smile. He continued to scratch his fingers on the surface of the tobacco, snorting again.

His companion noticed that he was doing that longer than usual and looked up. His friend snorted again, still scratching, returning the other’s glance, who asked:

‘Aren’t you going to fill your pipe? Why did you snort?’

‘Hmm! I’ve been smoking for fifty years and something just now occurred to me.’

‘That you shouldn’t smoke? You know that I gave it up after my heart attack.’

‘Not that. … Hm-hmm!’

‘What are you chuckling about?’

‘You used to smoke pipes. Here, rub your fingers on the tobacco.’

He held out the tin. With quizzical expression, the other rubbed his fingers on the loosened strands of tobacco with the experience of a practiced pipe smoker. He shrugged and asked:

‘So? … What just occurred to you … for the first time after fifty years?’

‘Hmm! Hm-hmm! Funny that.’

‘What?’

He smirked and glanced around, seeing that they were far from anyone who could overhear, before he replied:

‘Hm-hmm! Remember the first time a girl let you put your hand in her underpants?’

‘Hmmm! Of course! Don’t you?’

‘Of course, too aroused to do what she probably hoped, … if I had known how.’

‘Hm-hmm! Me too, but what’s that have to do with your tobacco?’

‘Mmmm! Oh, I think she wanted me to. Oh, I wanted to, but didn’t dare, she almost had to tell me to.’

Hm-hmm! Weren’t we all like that back then? All the other guys in prep school talked as though they knew all about it and had more experience.’

‘Hmm! At mine, too.’

‘And the tobacco?’

‘Hmm! It suddenly occurred to me that it felt a little like that.’

‘Your hand in her panties?’

He nodded in reply with a smirk, and the other smirked and reached for the tin, rubbing his fingers on the tobacco again, nodding with a snort. They exchanged wry smiles. The pipe smoker started to fill his pipe, remarking softly:

‘Not that first one, can’t recall anything about her – oh I still remember her name – but not how that felt.’

‘I can’t either, but I know now what you mean. Hm-hmm! And it never occurred to you before?’

He shook his head as he tested the draft of his pipe and then closed the tin. The other snorted and remarked:

‘Pity, all those years when you could have been thinking about getting to third base while filling your pipe.’

‘Hmm? Been a long time, … at least, having to start with her panties still on, … maybe just getting that far.’

They both nodded, snorting again, and he lit his pipe, an operation that took several seconds. His friend snorted again and murmured:

‘Maybe only dirty old men could think of it.’

With wry smiles, they both chuckled again. As he drew on his pipe, the other grinned and remarked:

‘Oh yes, I remember one that really felt like that, had not so fine black hair – on her head.’

‘Hmm! I can imagine. Hm-hmm! My girlfriend in second grade had hair like that. Then a school nearer to where she lived opened, but we met again in junior high, … but, of course, … I didn’t even think about what was in her panties. Hm-hmm! But part of me did, dancing close at fifteen.’

‘Hmm! She probably did, girls that age are always a little further along than we were.’

‘Um-hmm, like the first one a couple of years later.’

‘Um-hmm.’

They were silent for a while, while the one drew on his pipe and tamped the tobacco. His friend snorted and remarked softly:

‘But most of them – if I remember correctly – had softer hair, finer.’

‘You always preferred blondes.’

‘Um-hmm, but not always. Remember … at Wellesley?’

‘Oh, of course! Armenian parents, lived on the upper west side.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Dated her a couple of times the summer after college.’

‘Really!’

‘She was nice.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

He drew on his pipe with a smile and blew a smoke ring. The other snorted and asked:

‘Was that your answer?’

‘Hm-hmm! But no, if you’re thinking what I suspect.’

‘I didn’t either.’

‘Two of us.’

He drew on his pipe again and snorted, then asking:

‘Remember panty girdles? I don’t think girls these day know what they are.’

‘What made you think of that?’

‘Hm-hmm.’

‘Oh, with her?’

‘Not just, but I guess so.’

‘Hmm? You hardly knew her at college.’

‘Only met her in your room across the hall. Can’t remember if you or your roommate was dating her – but you, apparently.’

‘Um-hmm. And you dated her here?’

‘Can’t remember how I knew she was at home and why I thought she would go out with me.’

‘But she did.’

‘Also can’t remember what we did, … well, if we went to dinner or whatever.’

‘Hmm! But you remember her panty girdle.’

He drew on his pipe again, nodding. His friend snorted with a slight scowl and added:

‘And her ‘tobacco’?’

He nodded again with a slight smile, then remarked:

‘But actually, I first recalled another girl’s panty girdle, but probably your mentioning her brought it to mind.’

‘And the other one?’

‘Not as attractive. Hmm? I dated her roommate first.’

‘But …, well, I don’t need to ask, you were just recalling her roommate.’

‘Um-hmm, … but maybe I should have – her roommate – that time after a football game. … Anyway.’

‘What?’

‘Her roommate: almost got a cramp in my hand.’

‘In her panty girdle?’

‘That was our first date.’

‘Hmmm? And then she didn’t wear one?’

‘Gentlemen don’t tell.’

‘Hmm! Don’t need to. … Why did they wear them, even prep school girls?’

‘I thought, to give them slimmer figures, but another girl explained that that was impossible. She majored in physics and explained the obvious: you can’t compress a liquid – hips – just push the mass around, shape it.’

‘Hm-hmm! Of course. Must have known her better to talk about that. Did she wear one?’

‘No. No, I don’t think she even owned one. Went to a good girls’ school in DC – what one suddenly remembers! No, you could hold her bottom. The others, one could only rub, sliding her skirt on her firm girdle, probably also her slip. Do girls still wear slips?

‘I should know? Obviously some don’t.’

‘The ones you look at.’

‘You asked the question.’

‘Hmm! Yes. … Oh! When I was in Scandinavia with my mother and older sister – five years older – I was still sixteen, the girl with a summer job in a small hotel – probably a year or two older – didn’t wear a slip. Oooh! I could see her white panties through her light summer dress, tanned thighs.’

‘Hmm! Can’t remember anything like that, but we both went to boys’ schools, didn’t see many girls.’

‘Not your sisters?’

‘Hmm? Can’t remember that I noticed – if they did, didn’t.’

‘Anyway, I thought about her all summer.’

‘Hm-hmm! I can imagine.’

Back to panty girdles: So I asked her – the one that didn’t have any – why they wore them, and she explained that nothing was supposed to move, up top, either.’

While he relit his pipe, his friend snorted and remarked:

‘But they do now.’

‘You’ve been looking at too many young girls derrieres.’

‘No harm in that, and if they want to let us see them move, … and not just their bottoms.’

‘Mmmmm! Um-hmm!’

They smirked, and the other one remarked:

‘And
those bras, nothing could move or pop out.’

‘They sure can now, don’t know why they wear them.’

‘Hmm! You’ve been looking too, but you’re right.’

‘Hm-hmm! A girl once told me that whenever they had jello or pudding for desert, her father would shake the dish and remark: ‘summer blouse’. He was from Europe, and I guess young girls in his youth didn’t wear bras in the summer.’

‘Or he only noticed the ones that didn’t.’

‘Wouldn’t we have?’

They both chuckled, and he added:

‘But, of course, some need them.’

‘Um-hmm, like my younger sister back then.’

He glanced at his friend, who hid behind a puff of smoke with an uncomfortable expression, just nodding slightly, murmuring in reply:

‘But not your older one.’

‘Hm-umm! No. She certainly didn’t need to wear one, sometimes didn’t, before other young women didn’t in the late sixties.’

‘So you did notice. What a brother knows.’

‘That they could be so different.’

‘That, for sure. They could have shared what the younger one had.’

‘Never thought of that, … but you did.’

‘Only now.’

He had to relight his pipe. When it was burning again, his friend murmured:

‘I wasn’t going to ask, but it’s been years …’

‘I was afraid you would … – have been for years. No, we didn’t, and I don’t know about her ‘tobacco.’ We kept our pants on.’

‘Hm-hmm! That wouldn’t have ruled out the other, but I believe you.

They exchanged smiles, both apparently pleased to have clarified a decades’ old unspoken question between them. He drew on his pipe and remarked:

‘Hmm? Hope that didn’t disappoint her. I discovered too late that girls her age were more curious than their male classmates were venturesome – or I was.’

‘Hmm! You did? But curious enough, weren’t we all.’

‘Very. Oh, I guess in public schools the guys were probably more advanced than we were in our isolation.’

‘Yes. So you think she could have been more curious?’

‘That was a generalization, probably shouldn’t have suggested it in connection with your sister.’

‘Too late, but her figure could make one forget her age.’

He drew on his pipe, that had gone out again, and replied:

‘You mentioned it, not me, but it certainly was, outstanding for her age, perfect, if you don’t mind my saying so.’

”Outstanding’ was the right word. … Hmm? … You kept your pants on.’

The brother looked up questioningly. The pipe smoker smiled a little wryly, then nodded slightly. The other asked:

‘But that was all, I guess?’

‘Um-hmm, … if you don’t mind. She didn’t, … if I can say anything in my defense.’

‘No, yes. No, you don’t need to.’

He smiled wryly and added: ‘lucky.’

‘Um-hmm, especially that you say so. Once on TV, we saw an ad for a bra for well-built women, modeled by one, and she smirked and pointed to herself, reminding me that it was one she wore.’

‘Hmm! She needed to.’

‘Hm-hmm! Not really, not back then! Hm-hmm! She told me that a scout for Playboy was interested.’

‘I can imagine, didn’t know that.’

‘Not the kind of thing to tell a brother or parents. … Hope she didn’t let him see as much as I did.’

They both chuckled with grins. He added:

‘Never again saw one that could have needed that bra.’

‘Hmm? I don’t want to think what would happen now if she didn’t wear one.’

‘Nor do I. Want a drink?’

‘Good idea. My treat, … for the ‘tobacco,’ … and for not knowing about hers.’

He nodded with a smile and knocked the ash from his pipe. His friend snorted and remarked as they stood up:

‘But you might have, if you had already discovered that about teen-aged girls.’

‘Hmm? Hmmm! Don’t know. Just as well that I hadn’t.’

‘And if you had, you would have still said you hadn’t.’

‘Hmm! But I would have been blushing too much, you wouldn’t have believed me.’

‘Oh, I do. … Hm-hmm! To be honest …’

‘I have been!’

‘… To be honest, I asked her once, and she told me the same thing.’

Hm-Hmm! Of course! … Or you can think that we agreed on the story.’

‘Hmm?! It doesn’t matter.’

They snorted with smirks and went to the bar.

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Philip hadn't seen Summer since he'd knocked her up and she'd started showing her newest pregnancy. He had missed her and had asked about her but finally one morning on the way in to his office, he saw Summer and there was no missing the fact that his lover/mistress of several months had gotten knocked up again. And, in Philip's mind, there was no doubt who the daddy of this baby was. He knew Summer was married and that she'd had a baby by her husband, but he was almost certain that this...

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