http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... orever.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: top; padding: 15px; padding-top: 300px; text-align:justify;">Pped him lighting the weed and prepare it for her, hope it was okay! ;o 500+
During the long second it took him to react to her words she simply stared at his form. She seemed good at this staring thing. There was a form of reluctance clinging to her—they both clearly noticed it. She was unable to discover what exactly it was made out of, but she embraced it and wondered why she could not find peace and confidence in the presence of a friend. Cotl certainly deserved that title by now. He had put up with a few rounds of her unpleasant way to vent and explode and he was offering her comradeship right now. The girl tried to consciously appreciate him, turning the coin and placing a smile on her attractive face that she hoped would turn more genuine soon. She found that she was nervous about this bong that he had gotten up and retrieved now. Why on earth had she accepted the invitation? Ruby gaze studied the glass and its odd form. Water and weed? She squinted slightly and watched his hands make it ready for use. Profanity shot through the room, but the girl had grown used to his problem; allowing merely an ear to flicker back temporarily.
It was not the first time she had seen a bong be used, but she was somewhat fascinated as he lit the weed. Smoke danced inside the beholder and when it rose to the top the male removed the stem and inhaled it. It looked so odd. The room already carried the heavy stench of the marijuana, but the smoke he exhaled brought a new load of sweetness into the heavy air. Her red gaze drifted towards the window, aching for a breath of a fresh, untainted breeze. She did not understand what he was talking about when he said there was another way where she would not have to hit the bong. The sight of the water down inside the glass made it somehow seem cleaner and purer to her. Obediently, the woman started to reach out for the bong he was handing her, but as he offered to light the bowl for her, she moved over to the bed and sat down next to him. She had never tried to lit fire with the odd human objects and not eager to show him her ignorance. ”Yes please,” her soft voice accepted, her smile blooming.
Fingers lightly pressed against the bong and she found that it was warm; though not uncomfortably so. Replaying his demonstration inside her head, she watched as he lit the flame and went through the same procedure; though when the smoke rose to the top he let his palm shut the opening and indicated that it was now she was supposed to inhale it. She felt disgustingly nervous, and though this was not the case at all, she felt rushed into it as he removed his hand from the opening. She leaned down and made her lungs suck in what felt like warm, polluted air. Surprised by the fact that she could taste it, her inhale became sharp while it should be slow, and the smoke rushed down into her lungs and burned. Her mouth clasped shut and she pushed the bong away abruptly and shut down the airway as series of coughs wanted to pulse through her and rid her body of the burning mass of smog. She knew enough to know that she was supposed to hold her breath for a little while before breathing out, but her body responded poorly to the rough smoke. It was the same unpleasant experience every first timer had to go through, she supposed. |
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