Working-class Scottish Hardman - how I started smoking
Sunday, September 23, 2001 - 02:44 am: Edit
I've lived in the same small town all my life - 29 years. Its a pretty
working-class town, a rough, macho kinda place where men are men and real men are smokers. Men smoking cigarettes is the norm and it's the quickest way to get accepted as a hardman. I'm a bricklayer and a heavy smoker so yeah I'm one of the local hardmen. My name is Kev but most people use my nickname - Yoshie.
The main square has always been the cool place for young men to hang out, smoking and drinking. But you've got to have a hardman reputation to become a 'squareworker'. It has always been like that. The gangs of hardmen who stand about in the square range from late teens to mid thirties. For lads in my home town Regal King Size are the only smokes. For Scottish men Regal have the same appeal as Marlboro Reds. Regal are THE cigs to smoke.
Most of my mates started smoking around the age of 11 or 12. Going to the High School was the opportunity to prove how much of a hardman you are. When I went to High School this was done by having earrings, long, streaked hair, wearing jeans and football shirts because they were banned, wearing Adidas Sambas because they were hard and smoking cigs because it was cool.
I was 11 when I started smoking. It was the summer holiday before I went to High School. The high school was a really rough place with a really bad reputation. Most of the kids weren't interested in school, they skipped classes, got into trouble, and smoked cigarettes. I knew that I had to seem a real hard lad when I started at the high school in August. That meant smoking cigarettes. I'd have to be one of the lads who smoked BEFORE going to High School - that would give me extra street cred.
My best mate at primary school was known to everyone by the nickname of Boothy. Even at that age we were both always getting into trouble. We just knew that we'd be the next generation of local hardmen. Cool, we wanted to be thugs....neither of us gave a fuck about school anyway. Both his older brothers were already real local hardmen and both were heavy smokers. My elder brother Craig was much the same. Boothy and me had planned to spend the whole of the summer holidays becoming smokers so that when we arrived at high school we'd already be the hardlads among the new intake - marked out as cool lads, marked out as future squareworkers. We had deliberately planned to use the seven weeks of the holidays to get ourselves hooked on smokes and to get a nicotine addiction.
Boothy nicked fags off his brothers. We'd already spoken about it and
thought his brothers looked so cool. I nicked off my father who has a 3
packs a day habit. He'd been 19 when I was born so he was only in his early thirties then and was still a serious local hardman. All my mates thought my old fella was totally cool.
Boothy and me went down under the bridge on the main street, a pretty quiet spot at 8 in the evening. We were both wearing faded jeans, Adidas Sambas and tshirts. We both had packets of Regal in our pockets. Both were opened. My old man left packets everywhere so it had been real easy to nick this one with maybe 14 or 15 smokes still in it. I knew he'd never miss it - anyway he had a cupboard which had maybe 30 fresh packs waiting to be opened.
We pull the packs out of our tight jeans. We opened them and placed the cigs between our lips. It felt really good. I wished I could see myself. As it
was Boothy looked really cool with the ciggy hanging from his lips.
'Fucking great' I said
Boothy laughed 'yeah mate, looks fucking good. Real fucking good'
We both had lighters and we fired them. It seemed so cool lighting up. We
watched as the ends of our smokes took light as the smoke rose from the
ciggies. At the same time we pulled the smoke into our mouths. We'd decided not to inhale properly until we'd got used to it and until we'd accepted just how cool it made us look.
But fuck, we were novices, 11 year old lads, and of course we took a full
drag without realising. Fuck. We both hacked and took the fags from our gobs still hacking.
'Fuck that's gross' he said
I was more in control 'yeah but you look fucking ace doing it mate'
I was still hacking a bit as the smoke billowed from my mouth. I didn't like
it either but I liked the idea of smoking and reckoned I must have looked
cool. I took another puff. This time I was careful not to inhale I felt
dizzy and my mouth tasted real funny but I was too fixated about how cool I must look.
Boothy did the same - and boy did he look cool.
'Fucks sake mate.....you look so fucking good smoking' I said
'Cheers pal. You look pretty fucking cool too'
We only smoked about half of those first cigs. We flicked them away and sat on the grass. After a couple of minutes we lit up again. I know now that I was rushing things but this time I took a long drag. But fuck I hacked again. Boothy was exactly the same. We both coughed big time but we were determined to get hooked. We both fired out two gobs of spit. But that was cool too because hardlads gobbed big time. The second drag I took more slowly, watching the butt get red as I inhaled. That was cool.
I really liked the feeling of the cig in my mouth and I liked the taste of
Regal. I liked seeing the cig between my fingers. The second drag was
better. I wasn't rushing it. I still hacked a bit but not as much. Fuck that
was a great feeling as the warm smoke went deep inside me. On the third drag I took a deep breath and really felt great as the smoke went down and this time I managed to exhale through my nose. Now that was real cool. I was amazed by how little came out. Just like my old man and his mates. Boothy was doing well too.
We sat slowly smoking those cigarettes. We practiced different ways of
holding them, modelling ourselves on the hardmen like Boothy's brothers or my old man and his mates. We both liked holding it between our thumbs and second fingers. We smoked the second cigs right down to the filters. We flicked the butts away.
Within a couple of minutes we had lit up again. We hacked again a bit to
start with but with each drag we pulled in more smoke. We took each drag
slowly, holding it in then slowly exhaling through our nostrils. Most times
we held on so long that there was hardly any smoke to come out.
'Fucking cool mate' said Boothy
By now I knew my breath tasted of smoke, my fingers smelled of nicotine too and that my clothes and hair smelled of smoke too. But I liked that. It was cool. I fel more confident with each drag. I thought Boothy looked so cool smoking. I'd didn't know it then that men smoking was a turn on for me but later I did.
We smoked two more that night before going home. I lay in bed thinking about it and how cool it was. I couldn't wait until I met Boothy at 11 the next morniing so that we could go off and smoke some more.
When the morning came I couldn't wait. After everyone else had left I went out to the garage with my packet of cigs and lit up. I took a long drag. Boy did I like that feeling as the smoke went down and boy did I like seeing the smoke stream out of my nostrils. There was an old mirror at the back of the garage. Yes, fucking wicked, I thought. I can check this out. See if I look as cool as I feel. I stood in front of it with the smoke in my right hand. Yeah that looked cool, a thin stream of smoke twisting up over my wrist and arm to my football shirt. I raised my hand to my mouth. Yeah that looked cool too. Fuck, as I put the smoke between my lips....fuck that was really cool. I reckoned that I did look really good, really cool and yes like a hardlad. I inhaled. Fuck it was wicked seeing the lit end get bright orange as I took a shot of nicotine. The look of me smoking was as good as the feeling of taking in that smoke. I was mesmerised by it.
And that was it. I had started smoking. Boothy and I smoked everyday during those holidays. By the time we started at High School we both smoked about 10 a day. We were immediately regarded as tough by the other lads because we smoked already. Right from the start Boothy and me would head off to the back of the PE block at break times and light up. Sucking in as much smoke as we could. The older smokers would all be there too, among them my brother Craig and Boothy's brother Steve. We'd already told them we smoked. Because our brothers were already hardmen smokers we never got any hastle from the guys. Anyway, we were all there for the same reason - to feed our addiction to nicotine.
Over those first few weeks at High School we recruited lads from our year - other wannabe hardmen. Chris, Karl, Greg, Murray, Mark, Kenny, Neil, Darren. One by one they all tried it, urged on by Boothy and me. One by one they all became hooked.
By the end of our first year we were the tough guys. We were 12 or 13 but
already marked out as the next generation of local thugs. A lot of this was
down to the fact that we smoked, but part of it was down to our 'fuck you'
attitude. We didn't give a fuck for school. We mucked about, spoke back to teachers, skipped classes, were always getting into fights. We were never out of trouble. But that was cool; that was how hardmen behaved.
For me this was easy because my old fella was 100% hardman. He was only 17 when Craig was born and 19 when I was. So he was only 32. He had a real reputation locally for being tough. He used to be an amateur boxer and regularly got into fights. He's always been a heavy drinker and a heavier smoker. He has always used strong language at home and Craig and me were never told off for doing the same - 'fuck' was was a central part of our language from an early age.
So I wasn't worried about my parents finding out. They knew that my brother Craig smoked and were cool about it. When my old man found out he smoked he encouraged him. He was allowed to smoke at home, lighting up in the lounge with my parents and smoking in his room.
I was almost 14 and I reckoned it was time that I tell my father. He was
sitting in the lounge. He looks fucking mean most of the time - total
redneck type. But that day he looked real tough. He had on tight jeans, a
black Iron Maiden tshirt. He wears two earrings and is covered in tattoos.
On one arm of the chair were his smokes and lighter on the other was a big, stinking ashtray full of butts. He was smoking of course. Our town is on the coast and fishing is a big industry. It's also a real mans one. He is the skipper of a trawler so had real hard street cred and of course we had
stacks of money.
He looked at me 'Want to try a fag Kev?' really sucking on the lit tab that
seemed glued to his lips.
'Yeah, fuckin cool dad' I said
'Cool mate' was all he said. He threw over his packet of cigs and the
lighter. I lit up. It seemed a bit odd at first but he just said 'Fucking
cool Kev. How long have you smoked?'
'About a year'
'Fucking cool mate' he said 'Keep the fucking packet and light up whenever you fucking like'
The next day he left a carton of Regal and a great big ashtray in my
bedroom. Being able to smoke at home meant that I smoked more heavily than my mates. They thought my parents attitude was really cool. They used to come round to mine and we'd sit listening to music, smoking cigs in my room. My folks never had any problems with it.
Sometimes my old fella would stick his head round the door and ask if we had enough packets of cigarettes. Even if we had he'd usually throw down a couple of packets. He'd offer cigs to my mates as soon as they came in. They all thought this was dead cool.
Soon afterwards I was lying on my bed one night, smoking and loving every last drag as I pulled the smoke down inside me. I was half watching a film on TV. There were lots of guys smoking in it. Without warning I got my first serious erection. My cock got rock hard.
I lit up again and dragged heavily on it. The scene on the film was full of
young guys smoking. I just left my own tab hanging from my lips pulling
regular drags on it and exhaling hardly anything through my nostrils. The
more I inhaled the harder I got. The more I saw the guys in the film smoke the harder I got.
I started feeling myself up. Fuck this is cool, I thought. I took long drags
like there was no tomorrow. Everytime I felt the smoke going down the more aroused I became. One guy in the film was lighting up. That so turned me on. For the first time I really felt sexual. I was a bit confused because I'd never thought that men would turn me on, or if I had I never realised. But fuck, they did. I played with my cock, stroking it, rubbing it. Fuck it stayed rock hard.
I knew all about sex, about erections, about wanking. But hell, here I had
my own great big erection. I lit up again as soon as I'd stubbed out. I lay
there, cigarette hanging from my lips, half watching the sexy smokers in the film, half watching my big masculine cock. I jacked off. I could believe it as a stream of spunk poured from my cock. It felt great as it trickled over my chest. At first the only thing I realised was that smoking turned me on but then it dawn on me that it was men I liked and men smoking in particular.
Fuck! I thought. I'm a fucking poof, a fucking queerboy. This didn't square
with the hardman I wanted to be. But fuck I felt so good. I didn't worry about it. I could easily hide this from my mates.
I woke up the following morning with another hard-on. I immediately lit up
and could feel my cock getting even firmer as I took a long drag. I picked
up a football magazine and looked at the pictures, no guys smoking but guys nonetheless. I was turned on. Yesterday it had just been a footy mag; today it was wank material. I rubbed my cock, jerked off, I fired onto the glossy centrefold poster. It was so cool. I lit up as soon as I'd cum and looked at the spunk on the poster. Ok, I thought, so I like men, cool.
I started of by wanking off on fantasies about my mate Chris - fantasies
fuelled by seeing him naked in the changing rooms at the swimming pool and by the fact that he smoked. I'd sit in front of the mirror, watching myself smoke and wanking off of thoughts of Chris with a smoke between his lips.
Our gang weren't interested in school. We were the thugs in our year. We all smoked and never did anything to hide it. We'd go into classes stinking of smoke, sometimes with cigs behind our ears, always with the outline of a packet of 20 in our jeans. As soon as we were out the door we'd pull out our packets of cigs and light up. The teachers would watch us but say nothing. We were just doing exactly the same as most of the older lads.
Once a new teacher challenged us
'Get to fuck, you fuckin bastard'
'Fuck off cunt'
was the reply from me, Boothy, Karl and Chris, as we all flicked a finger at him. We all wandered off taking really long drags on our cigs, never
removing them from our mouths. Our chat was explicit and sexual. Straight of course but I could do that even though I knew that I really wanted them and their cocks.
Although I had really fancied Chris it was my mate Kenny that I first got
off with. Kenny was one of my best mates because we were both mad about motorbikes and loved heavy metal. We were both big Slayer fans. My old fella was mad about punk and then heavy metal. He was a big Iron Maiden fan but I was totally into Slayer from the moment they came on the scene. Kenny was just the same and of course he smoked too.
I would go over to Kenny's at the weekend. We were two rebels together at the weekends, listening to Slayer, smoking continuously. It was fucking
great. Once his parents and brother and sister were away for the weekend. Those were the glorious days of skintight jeans and that Saturday I was wearing my tightest, with a Rangers football top and Samba trainers, Kenny was wearing very faded jeans, white Tshirt and Sambas too. A freshly lit ciggy hanging from his lips. We mucked about with his bike. We listened to Slayer in the garage.
We got real oily. I liked seeing a fag in my hand anyway but there was
something so fucking cool about seeing a fag in a dirty, oily hand. There
was something about it that so fucking turned me on. We'd both get really
oily and pretty sweaty too. I liked the fact that we'd get our tshirts
smeared with black oil, that our armpits would be wet with sweat and that
we'd be smoking heavily, one after another, filling our lungs with smoke. I
liked that we just ground our butts into the concrete floor. I got off on
that too, grinding out my cigarette beneath my old but totally hard Adidas
Sambas. Of course Slayer played a part in this. For two 14 year old lads
their fucking vicious lyrics were totally wicked. They matched our
foul-mouthed chat which revolved around hot chicks we wanted to fuck.
I loved being with Kenny when he was working on the bike. It was so macho, such a working-class lads thing to be doing. It was fucking cool. Especially the chain smoking of one cigarette after another. Kenny was looking fucking sexy, his faded jeans covered in grease and oil, his filthy white tshirt, his Sambas and a tab in his hand.
Then, out of no where it happened. Kenny sat up on the workbench. He
motioned me over. We were both smoking. Kenny took a long drag then started kissing me, making me take all his smoke. We threw our stubs on the floor. We started kissing. Our tongues down eachother's throats.
Eventually we stopped kissing. Kenny was grinning. He slid his hand into his jeans and took out more fags. We lit fags again. He left his dangling from that sexy mouth. The fag break didn't mean the end. It meant an added turn-on. He smelt of pure, hard, masculinity. He lifted his tshirt up, undid his belt and flies. He pulled his cock out. Fuck, it was huge, fucking
massive, stonking hardon, primed and ready for action.
'Like ma fuckin' tool?' he asked
'Fuckin' right mate' I said
His dick was huge and hard. His fucking hard-on was huge. It looked so
tasty, hard and erect, firm and bulging. The long, firm, hard shaft of his
dick, the bulging pouch of his big bollocks. Kenny grinned, with the fag
hanging from his gob, smoke flowing from his nostrils.
'I fuckin want it' I said
He held his dick in his left hand. We stood face eachother, tabs in our
mouths pulling in long drags of smoke. I placed my hand on his chest. I
rubbed that hairy, firm six pack, then I slid my hand down towards the mass of thick, pubic hair and on down that massive stiff, to those massive kegs. Fuck we were only kids but fuck Kenny was a real man.
He grabbed my hand and placed it tightly around his dick. I held his hard,
stiff dick tightly in my hand. It was like holding onto an iron bar, so big
and hard in my hand. I started jerking him, playing with that massive tool,
pulling it back and forward, making him even harder. The more I played with it the bigger it got. The tighter I held it the harder it became. This was a fucking massive, hard, erection.
He smelt fantastic, so manly, sweat, dirty masculinity, tobacco. I was over
his hard-on. I threwn down my finished smoke. Kenny did the same but
immediately lit another. My lips touched the tip of his boner. He was huge.
Inch after inch of hot, hard, bulging cock was in my face, in my mouth. I
started licking him. My tongue was all over every inch of his dick. I could
feel it pulsing and bulging against my tongue. Kenny was huge and I couldn't take all of his tool in my mouth, but I sucked him off. I loved the feeling of his dick in my mouth.
'Fuckin hell, fuckin nice' he kept saying as his hard-on bulging in my
mouth. He smoked throughout, one tab lit off of another. With every drag I could feel his cock harden more against my tongue.
I sucked him until he started to cum. Kenny grabbed my hair in his hand and held my head against his crotch, my lips against his boner. He was cuming. The hot, sticky cum started trickling over my tongue. He jerked himself a bit and the cum flowed from the tip of his fucking massive stiff. I licked it up and down his shaft. He kept on cuming, dripping over my tongue, filling my mouth with his hot, sticky cum. It kept pouring from that huge tool in the same way as smoke kept billowing from his nostrils. I loved the taste of his sticky smokers cum pouring over my tongue, into my mouth. I could taste all the smokes we'd had as his tobacco juice flowed into my mouth. I loved the feeling of his huge stiff in my mouth. Fuck, he was fucking hot and fucking massive. His fucking tool kept screwing more cum in my gob.
'Fuckin suck it mate' he said
'Fuckin tasty eh?' he asked as he sucked on that Regal.
My mouth was full of his huge hardon. Hot, sticky cum poured from it over my tongue, around my mouth. The taste of it turned me on as it slid over my throat, as I swallowed all of the hot, sticky cum which poured out of his tool. I licked up the last traces of cum. I sucked his dick. I didn't want to let his tool leave my mouth.
And so Kenny became the first in a long line of straight-acting smokers....