smoking fetish

We stepped out of the cab and through the decoratively studded wooden front door of the hookah bar and restaurant. Diena led the way. This was my first experience with smoking a hookah.  I thought back to the first time that I heard of it as a kid from Alice in Wonderland. The Caterpillar smoked one, remember? It was shadowy. Lamp-lit and intimate. It was filled with bullish middle eastern men playing cards together and puffing smoke into the air. Diena settled down in the booth next to the wall and I in the chair in front of her. She had told me a bit about the hookah experience on the way and now I found myself choosing from the menu of flavors.

I was drawn by the coconut tobacco. Diena had never tried it and we ordered it up along with some appetizers to munch on and meat dumplings for me. Our first evening together, we talked, and talked, and smoked. Me learning how to smoke the hookah as gracefully as she does; over and over the serpentine wisps slipping from her full lips into the air in front of her almond eyes.