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Smoke break in the garage and a quick fuck

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Gay Porn FuckBook Smoke break in the garage and a quick fuck.

B ut I couldn't.

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For years, cigarettes and I were trapped in an abusive relationship. They beat me up, internally speaking, yet I couldn't live without them. To say I smoked like a chimney would be misleading. A chimney emits smoke serenely, with little apparent effort.

I screwed my face up like a constipated pug, dragging on one deathstick after another like it was my second career. I even smoked in the shower. It's easier than you think. Every so often, I'd come to my senses and kick the fags out, promising myself it really was over for good this time.

And then, months down the line, I'd forget about the bad times, forgive all the damage. Truth was, I still fancied them. And in a weak moment, after a few drinks, there I was, back in their arms.

If they had arms, which they don't. Still I wanted out. I tried cold turkey.

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Lasted 12 hours and wound up walking to an all-night garage in tears. Next came the patches. You have incredible dreams on patches; vivid 3D Imax productions like you wouldn't believe.

One night I spent hours floating in space wielding a gigantic cannon, firing planets into suns and watching them explode. Stick that up your Spiderman 3. Thanks to the patches, I quit for five years.

Then I had a harrowing break-up and decided it would be a wheeze to amplify my misery by taking up smoking again. This time, the habit stuck fast.


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