As it was lunchtime the bus was empty on the top deck. As it pulled away, Dale pulled out his packet of Mayfair and took out one of the Marlboro given to him by Simon that morning.
`Damn. Only one left' said Dale.
He proceeded put it in his mouth and, hiding behind the seat in front, lit it, breathing clouds of smoke as he did so.
What are you doing?' asked Simon. You can't smoke on the bus!'
`Watch me.'
Dale kept the cigarette cupped in his hand and drained it rapidly. Within two minutes he had finished the cigarette and sat looking at Simon.
`You've never smoked on a bus before then?'
`No.' Answered Simon.
`I do it all the time. Even when it's busy nobody does fuck all.'
Simon marvelled at Dale's balls and shifted his position to cover his growing hard on.
Five minutes later, Dale rang the bell and stood up.
`Nearly there.' He said.
They went down the stairs and exited to the street. Simon hadn't been paying any attention to where the bus was heading, his mind being preoccupied with the day's events so far and a growing feeling of admiration for Dale. They were on Jamaica Road which Simon knew contained some of the roughest estates in the area. They crossed the road and entered the Pirbeck estate. Ahead of them lay a group of high rise buildings, and Dale headed across a square. They entered the ground floor and Dale pressed the button for the lift. Looking around, Simon noticed some blackened foil lying in the corner and what could have been a syringe, but before he could make sure, the lift arrived. They entered the lift and Simon's senses were immediately assaulted by a smell of stale urine and graffiti on the walls.
Nice aint it?' joked Dale. There's a fucking gang around here that causes all sorts of trouble. I keep in with them so they don't hassle me too much. I don't hang around with them much `cos they get up to all sorts of shit which I don't want to get mixed up in.'
He pressed the button for the sixth floor, and they were sealed in the mobile toilet. Simon had never experienced anything so filthy. His own parents lived in a new apartment near London Bridge with security at the entrance, so this was a revelation to him. He'd heard stories about the Pirbeck Estate, but this was a real eye-opener for him.
They arrived on the sixth floor, and Dale turned left out of the lift onto a balcony. They walked along to number 6 and Dale unlocked the door.
`It's nothing special, but we can't afford fuck all else. My mum doesn't get paid much and the council could only get us this place. The old man doesn't even bother to call me so he's fuck all help.'
They entered the flat which was in darkness. Dale opened a few curtains, and Simon looked around the room. They were in a corridor which had clearly seen better days. The paint was peeling from the walls, and the carpet was stained with various dark patches. There were several damp patches in the polystyrene ceiling tiles.
Yeah, that's fucking grim innit? I just hope that's not their fucking bog right above!' joked Dale. Want a drink? I'm sure there's some vodka in here somewhere.'
`Yeah, why not' answered Simon.
My bedroom's just over there on the right.' Said Dale. I'll be with ya in a minute.'
Simon opened the door to Dale's bedroom and almost immediately tripped over a bucket of filthy water just inside the door.
It's a bit of a mess' shouted Dale. Just make yourself comfortable while I sort the drinks.'
Simon tiptoed over piles of dirty clothes and overflowing ashtrays and perched on the edge of a frayed chair which was also serving as a makeshift laundry basket. The floor was covered in empty beer bottles, empty vodka bottles, ashtrays and bits of cardboard and paper.
Dale came through from the kitchen carrying two pint glasses.
Don't worry.' He said, It's not all vodka!'
He kicked some of the debris from around the bed and placed the glasses on the floor. He then reached over to a chest of drawers and fished out a box. Simon was intrigued.
`I thought you said your mum caught you smoking last night? How could she not with all this crap lying around?'
She never comes in here' replied Dale. She smelled the spliff I was smoking and knocked on my door. She's given up trying to stop me smoking fags.'
`Oh.'
Dale opened the box and pulled out a packet of rolling papers.
`Shit. I forgot to buy fags' said Dale.
`Here, have some more of mine. There's only a few left in this pack and I have more.'
`Cheers mate.'
Dale took a cigarette from the pack and rolled it between his fingers, easing the tobacco onto the rolling paper. Next he picked up a smallish lump of brown substance and held his lighter to it. After a few seconds he extinguished the lighter and crumbled some of the hash into the rolling paper. He repeated this several times and then picked up the half-assembled joint. Using his dextrous fingers he rolled the paper, licked it, and finished rolling it. Next, he searched amongst the rubbish on the floor and found a tube ticket. He tore off a corner, and rolled it around a match. He inserted the rolled up cardboard into the end of the joint and used the match to open it out.
`There we go. Fucking perfect even if I do say so myself.'
Simon was amazed. Dale had taken less than three minutes to complete his task; it looked like he had been doing it for years.
`How long have you been smoking pot?' asked Simon.
`Nearly three years now. I had my first few tokes when I was about 12. One of the blokes in the gang gave it to me. Been smoking every day for more than two years. Dave gets it for me.'
Dave was another one of the scally gang from school. Simon always thought he looked a bit dopey and it all made sense now.
Dale lit the joint and lay back on the bed. He took a long drag and inhaled deeply, taking another drag before exhaling. After a few more drags he offered it to Simon.
Try not to waste any' said Dale. It's fucking expensive.'
Simon gingerly took the joint and took a small drag. He inhaled, and the harsh smoke hit the back of his throat making him cough slightly.
`I thought you'd smoked pot before?'
I have,' lied Simon, but I don't smoke it that often.'
He took another, bigger drag and inhaled more deeply. This time he was aware of a dullness overcoming his head, which suddenly felt much heavier.
`Not bad shit huh? I prefer skunk, but this aint bad. There's a bit of a drought going on.'
Simon took a couple more puffs and handed the joint back to Dale. Dale finished it off and then set about rolling another. Simon was feeling very light-headed by this point, almost as though his brain could no longer control his movements. He took a swig of the vodka to try and steady himself, and sat back in the chair, taking care to place the clothes on the arm.
Don't worry about that' said Dale. Just chuck it on the floor.'
He passed the joint to Simon who took another drag. As he did, a burning piece of hash fell from the end onto his tracksuit top; it sat for a moment, and then started melting the nylon material creating a small crescent shape.
`Shit!' exclaimed Simon sitting upright and trying to brush it off.
Don't worry too much' soothed Dale. It happens all the time. Nearly every top I own has scud marks on it!'
Simon remembered that he was wearing Dale's tracksuit top. He'd almost forgotten and had become used to wearing it, feeling less self-conscious.
After a couple of hours and a couple more joints mixed with vodka, Simon dozed off, away in a world of cannabis and drink fuelled dreams. He dreamt of buying the tracksuit he'd soiled in the sports shop and hanging around with Dale and his mates.
He woke up with a start. Dale was snoring on the bed.
`Shit, what time is it?' Asked Simon.
Dale awoke with a groan.
`Eh? Hang on. About 7 I think.'
`Fuck' said Simon. I was supposed to be home by 4 to babysit my sister. I'll be in all sorts of shit.'
`Don't worry about it' said Dale.
Simon looked at Dale. He was lying with his head propped against a pillow, still wearing his Lacoste tracksuit jacket. His hair was slightly ruffled; normally it was gelled into a perfect style, slightly spiked, but its current state gave him a roguish look. Simon could feel his cock rising again, especially when he glanced at Dale's cock and noticed that he too was rock hard.
Whoa, bit of morning glory going on down there' laughed Dale. I'll need a wank to sort that out. Looks like you need some relief too!'
He groped down to his rock hard penis and felt around.
`Oh that feels good. Mind if I crack one off now?'
`Err, sure' stammered Simon.
Dale unzipped his trousers and pulled out his man piece. It was about seven inches long and thick- set. Simon could hardly believe his luck; imagine seeing this red hot scally having a wank in front of him!
Go ahead' said Dale. It's only natural, I don't care if you have a wank now.'
Simon hesitated, and unzipped his own trousers. His cock still felt a bit sticky from his earlier hasty efforts, and he had to unstuck his foreskin. Immediately his 6 inch hose sprung free and stood upright. He glanced at Dale who was lying on the bed with his eyes closed working his cock with his right hand and groaning. Simon studied this picture of his dream man, lying there wearing his tracksuit top, giving life to his man juice. Simon started tugging on his own cock glancing regularly at his Adonis, giving great pleasure to himself. He started moving faster, gripping his cock tightly and working the flesh, building up a sweat. As he masturbated, the arm of the tracksuit top rubbed against the main body, creating the noise which he craved so much fuelling his passion even further. With a loud groan Dale arched his back and shot stream after stream of hot spunk onto his Lacoste top, the white juice contrasting sharply with the light blue material. The sight of Dale ejaculating pushed Simon over the edge until he too fired a load onto the top he was wearing, staining the shiny nylon material with his own spunky mess.
`Whoops!' said Simon.
Fuck it.' Said Dale. Just toss it onto that pile over there. I'll tidy it up a bit and chuck it in the wash'
Simon did what he was told and Dale did the same.
`I'd better shoot off' said Simon.
`Ok mate. Want me to roll you a spliff for later?'
`Sure' said Simon.
As he left the flat Simon was very aware of the people around him. He knew that a fairly violent gang inhabited the area and wanted to appear inconspicuous. He did have one heart-stopping moment when he rounded a corner and faced a teen wearing a Nike hooded top with a scarf over his mouth and the hood pulled down low. He avoided eye contact and continued to the bus stop, worrying about what he was going to tell his parents...