The train pulled into Croydon just as Simon finished rolling up another joint. He quickly stuffed his papers, cigarettes and cannabis into his jacket pocket and left the train, heading up the ramp towards the exit. Even as he approached the barriers he slid a Camel into his mouth and lit up just before leaving the station, inhaling deeply to satisfy his cravings and draining the cigarette quickly. As usual, he smoked the cigarette down as far as he could manage before lighting another from the burning stub, tossing it into the gutter once he was done. He let the lit cigarette hang from his pert lips as he checked his phone. It was 3.15, so plenty of time. He decided to wander around a couple of the sports shops to see what was on sale and headed towards the town centre.
Sundays were a busy day in the High Street and, as it was a non-schoolday, there was a large element of scally teens hanging around. Of course, Simon now felt like one of them, dressed as he was in his black hooded tracksuit, smoking a cigarette as he walked. He came to JJB Sports; they usually had a fairly good selection of gear, but not as much as JD Sports. He made for the tracksuits first, looking at what was on offer; the selection wasn't great apart from a shiny black Nike tracksuit which was identical to the one that Steve had been wearing the other day. He looked at the price tag: £50, so not too expensive. Still, he didn't want to lay out too much money, so he replaced it on the rack before heading over to the tracksuit bottoms. There were a couple of Adidas bottoms which immediately caught his eye: one black, one navy, both with the three white stripes down the side. What was really eye-catching however was the material: it was very, very shiny, almost reflecting the light. His cock twitched as he picked up the black pair from the rack and held it against his own tracksuit bottoms; they felt great. He took them over to the changing rooms and tried them on. As soon as he pulled them over his ankles he knew he had to have them; his cock was as straight as a rod signalling its approval. He put his own tracksuit bottoms back on and took the new ones to the till.
"OK if I wear these now he asked?"
"Sure. Just let me remove the tags and security device."
He waited whilst the assistant did this and handed over the £30 before going back into the changing rooms and putting them back on. He admired himself in the mirror, looking at his arse as the ultra-shiny material hugged his cheeks.
He packed his old tracksuit bottoms into the shopping bag and walked out of the changing rooms; the shiny black material swished as he walked, almost causing his cock to burst as he left the shop. He held his composure and headed to JD Sports. On entering, he looked for Andy's contact from the other day, but couldn't see him. He made for the Nike section to see what tracksuits were on display. There were a couple of hooded tracksuits which took his fancy, both Max Ltd in different colours and lots of cotton tracksuits in various shades ranging from black to baby blue to red. All of them looked really horny. Next he moved to the Adidas section; he spotted the tracksuit Simon had bought in both black and navy, as well as a couple of other hooded tracksuits. As with the Nike section there were various cotton hoodies and tracksuit bottoms in different colours, all with three stripes down the side. Finally he came across the Lacoste section. He instantly spotted a tracksuit which almost made him come straight away: it was mostly white; the bottoms were all white, whereas the top was white with two fairly wide vertical baby blue stripes on the front on the right hand side. In addition the inside of the collar was baby blue. It was gorgeous; as well as that there was another one with the colour scheme reversed: all baby blue with white stripes and white colour. Simon thought that he was in heaven. However, his excitement quickly faded when he glanced at the price tags: £110 each. Well above what he could afford. Disappointed, he checked his phone and saw that he had five minutes to meet Andy. He had received a message telling him to meet at the station, so he lit a cigarette and headed in that direction.
As he approached he could see Andy waiting for him, looking every bit the scally he was. He wore a black flat-brimmed baseball cap with NY on the front, cocked on his head slightly off-centre. A grey Ecko hoody, covered with graffiti in blue and red complemented the ghetto look of the cap, and black Nike tracksuit bottoms adorned his legs, with Max Ltd in red writing down the left leg. He was smoking a cigarette in his inimitable style (although Simon was smoking more like him recently).
"Hiya" said Simon, tossing his cigarette butt to the floor and lighting another immediately. "How's it going?"
"Yeah mate, good. You?"
"Just been looking around, you know."
"New trackie bottoms?"
"Yeah."
"Fucking mint mate. Love them. They look hot on you."
Simon blushed slightly. He noticed a bag down by Andy's feet.
"Your Lacoste trackies are in there. We'll sort it out in a bit."
"Cool."
"Let's go for a smoke."
He led Simon to the park where they sat on a bench just as last time, except Simon lit a joint at the same time as Andy.
"Getting into your ganja then?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Tell you what, I can get you larger amounts cheaper than smaller amounts. If you sell three quarters of an ounce then the other quarter is basically free."
"Yeah? Sounds good."
"Yeah. Sixty quid buys you an ounce. Sell it off at tenner an eigth and freebies for you."
"Cool. Sounds good."
"I'll even give you an ozzy on tick. Can't say fairer than that!"
With that, Andy reached into a side pocket of his bag and pulled out a large lump wrapped in cling film. Simon was used to smaller amounts, so it looked huge to him. He tried to imagine how many joints he could get out of it. The question was, who to sell it too? Anyway, he'd figure that out later. He took the lump, and placed it into the pocket of the tracksuit bottoms in his JJB Sports bag. He finished the joint he was smoking and lit up a Camel. As he put his lighter back in his pocket he felt Andy lean over and grab his balls. He raised an eyebrow at Simon, but said nothing, instead giving them a squeeze hard enough to almost make him yelp. Simon remembered Andy's orders to wear the butt plug and harness; they were both still in his bag as he'd completely forgotten.
"Right let's go." Said Andy, "We're off to Bill's."
Simon remembered his last visit to Bill's with some trepidation, but he had actually enjoyed it when thinking about it afterwards. He followed Andy's black nylon-clad arse across the park, trailing smoke from his cigarette behind him.
Ten minutes and, for Simon, two cigarettes later, they arrived at Bill's house. Andy pressed the buzzer.
"Yeah?" came the gruff reply.
"Andy mate."
The buzzer sounded and Andy pushed the door open. Bill hadn't tidied the flat since their last visit; in fact, the living room was even more cluttered. It was obvious that he occasionally cleared the rubbish from the floor and tossed the bags into the corridor. Simon wondered what happened when the corridor became full.
"Ah, you've brought the fucking poof again I see."
"Yeah. He liked getting his arse pounded so much he came back for more."
Simon blushed. Although it was embarrassing being talked about as if he was worthless, he also found it quite exciting in a perverse sort of way. Andy rummaged in his bag and produced two packages wrapped in polythene; Simon could see large Lacoste logos on both bags.
"Here are your trackies mate."
Simon took them and immediately popped a hard-on. He went for the royal blue one first, and unwrapped it quickly from the polythene, eager to get a good look at it.
"You can change here." Said Andy.
He unzipped his jacket and removed it. Next he pulled down his tracksuit bottoms, revealing his erect cock. Bill laughed.
"Fucking gay; look at him!"
"I notice you ignored my instructions." Said Andy, "Hang on a minute."
Andy rummaged in his back a little more and produced a larger butt plug; it was a bit longer than the existing one, and quite a bit fatter. He also pulled out a pair of black leather mitts and a sensory deprivation hood.
"Let's get you dressed up a bit. Sit on that chair." Ordered Andy, pointing to a dining chair in the middle of the room.
Simon did as he was told. Andy moved behind him and slipped the hood over Simon's head. It obscured his sight to a certain extent, but he could still see some light. Andy then threaded the string through the holes in the back of the hood and adjusted it to make sure that it was in the correct position before pulling it tight and tying a bow. Simon could see and hear less than before, but there was still some light coming in through a mouth hole, just large enough for a cock he noticed. Next Andy tightened the strap which went over the eyes and around to the back; he pulled it as tight as possibly could before buckling it. Now Simon could not see a thing. It was darker even than when he had his eyes closed; in fact, he couldn't tell anymore whether his eyes were open or closed. Andy pulled another strap which ran over the top of the hood under the chin and tightened it. This had the effect of severely hampering Simon's sense of hearing; he could still hear to an extent, but anything not said in a loud voice was an unintelligible muffled sound. Finally Andy tightened the neck strap, taking care to ensure that Simon could still breathe freely.
"OK. Let's get you dressed. Bend over the chair and raise your butt in the air.."
Simon did so with some difficulty. As he could not see a thing, he had to try and work out where the chair was from memory and touch. He eventually managed to bend over the seat and raise his arse. Andy rubbed his fingers around the hole. After a few seconds, Simon felt a cold liquid being poured around the area, before Andy's fingers explored again, before pushing into his anus. After another brief pause, he felt something larger pushing against his hole, trying to force his arse muscles apart. It felt huge, and there was some pain as it slowly slid further into his bottom. It was removed again, another short pause, a bit more liquid, and reinserted, this time going in further until Simon felt like his arse cheeks must tear apart. He murmered, but could hear no response from Bill or Andy. Further went the plug, pushing harder against his sphincter until he felt he could take the pain no more. Just as he was about to yell he felt it slide the whole way in, and his arse clenched tight against the base.
"Serves you right for disobeying orders. Time for some punishment. Stand up" Said Andy in a loud voice.
Simon stood, and felt the larger plug pushing against his prostate and rubbing his anal passage. His hard cock was standing erect in front of him.
"Lift your left leg."
Simon lifted his left foot and felt a pair of tracksuit bottoms being slipped over it. He then lifted his right foot, and Andy pulled up the tracksuit bottoms, but only up to the base of his arse cheeks and then gave him a good smack on his arse which set Simon twitching. Then Andy lifted his arm and slid the jacket over it, repeating the action with the other arm before zipping the jacket up to the neck.
Andy grabbed his hands and pulled them behind his back. First he slipped the right hand into one of the mitts, strapped it in and attached a small padlock to the buckle. He repeated this for the left hand, before padlocking the two mitts together. Simon was now helpless; he couldn't see a thing and his hearing was severely impaired. His hands were completely immobilised by the mitts, and he couldn't easily move as his arms were locked behind his back.
"You look like a proper fucking gimp!" laughed Bill.
Simon could feel himself blushing. He could smell cannabis smoke and was surprised to feel a joint being pushed into his mouth.
"Smoke" ordered Andy.
Simon did as he was told.
"Harder. I want you to take as much smoke as you can. Don't exhale until I tell you."
Simon dragged harder than ever and inhaled. The joint was still there. He dragged again, feeling his lungs fill with the smoke, but still the joint remained. He took another drag, longer and harder than the previous ones and felt that his lungs could take no more. He held his breath for what felt like an age before he heard Andy telling him to exhale. This came as a relief, but it didn't last very long as he felt the joint being placed into his mouth again; three more hard drags and he felt dizzy with the smoke.
He was led to the sofa and forced to bend over the arm. Although he couldn't see anything, he was aware of the tracksuit he was wearing, and it made him feel very horny. Furthermore, the sensation of having no control made him feel amazing. He could detect some murmuring in the background, but they left him alone for what seemed like ten minutes before he smelt smoke again, although this time it smelled different, somehow more acrid. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a sharp smack against his vulnerable arse cheeks.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed.
"Shut up"
There was another crack as whatever was being used to assault his bare arse made full contact with his skin once again. It still hurt, but Simon bit his lip and stayed still. Then another crack, harder this time. There was a brief pause, and another ten cracks against his arse in rapid succession, each feeling harder than the last. His bottom felt red-raw and was tingling, but at the same time, his cock was firmly erect, trying to burrow into the arm of the sofa and twitched violently with each connection.
He was forced to stand up and led somewhere, although he couldn't be sure where. He was pushed against the wall, and the locks linking his hands together were removed. His hands were then raised above his shoulders and padlocked into position. Next, he felt some movement around his ankles, followed by a tightening sensation as something was clearly fastened to the. His feet were spread almost to the point of discomfort, and then padlocked into position. He was now in a cross position. There was a pause for a few minutes before he felt a joint being pushed into his mouth. He sucked greedily on the joint until he could take no more, and then inhaled deeply; before he could exhale, he felt the joint being pushed in again. This was repeated another five times before he was allowed to relax. He then felt something cold being spread onto his balls. It was a strange sensation, but his cock clearly enjoyed it. Then there was a further feeling of cold metal on his balls accompanied by what seemed like an occasional swishing of water. This went on for about five minutes before his balls were dried in a towel and some sort of thick liquid was placed on them. The were lots of movements going on, but he had no idea what was happening until he felt a sudden jolt of energy which caused his whole body to twitch. Learning his lesson from earlier, he managed to suppress any sounds. There was another stronger jolt which lasted longer and caused him to react quite violently. Finally, there came a steady current of what he now realised was electricity streaming through his balls. The current wasn't as strong as the second jolt, but more powerful than the first, and came in steady pulses. Each pulse flowed through his nerves and caused his cock to jump. After a few minutes, he felt a warm feeling moving through the base of his cock, and realised that if this kept up then he would shoot his load.
"Don't you fucking dare cum" ordered Andy.
He unzipped Simon's tracksuit top, and raised his t-shirt over his head. Simon could feel something cold and metallic pressing against his nipples, and was shocked when he suddenly felt something clamp hard on his right nipple. He grimaced for a few seconds before the pain subsided. He then felt a similar sensation on his left nipple as an clamp was attached to that as well.
He stood there for what seemed like half an hour, trying desperately not to cum, which was very difficult given the continued pulses of electricity flowing through his balls and the nipple clamps which, now they were in place, made his nipples feel almost as sensitive as his cock. Eventually he felt the electricity stop, and was forced to smoke another spliff in double-quick time. This came as a blessing as he was gasping for a cigarette by this point, and he greedily sucked down all of the smoke, barely wasting a wisp as his lungs fed their cravings.
The joint smoked, he felt the contacts being remove from his balls, and he relaxed somewhat. However, he soon felt something new being placed around the top of his ball-sack, It was buckled into place, and then he felt a weight pulling down on his sack. It did not feel too heavy at first, but some more weight was added, and it soon felt like his balls were going to be ripped off. Having said that, the sensation was not unpleasant; the feeling of his balls being pulled away from the base of his cock caused his seemingly ever-present hard-on to stiffen even further, and his cock almost hurt as it pushed out horizontally.
The wrist locks were removed, and his hands allowed to rest against his side. He hadn't realised just how much cramp had developed in his arms during this period, and it felt good to be able to move them freely again, even though he still could not use his hands. His legs were also unlocked and he was left to stretch for a few minutes before being forced to smoke another joint. Then he was led to another part of the room.
"Lie back" came the order.
He did as he was told and was conscious of something behind him. As he leaned back, a pair of hands helped him onto whatever it was that lay behind him. Eventually he was manoeuvred into the sling and his head lay against the leather. His ankles were raised and padlocked to the side of the frame. His wrists were pulled behind him and tied to the frame using thick rope. Somebody pushed him and he rocked gently in the sling for a few minutes.
"He looks kinda comfy doesn't he?"
"Yeah. Too comfy."
There was some movement around his nipples, and he felt them being pulled. However, the clamps weren't being removed as he first thought; in fact, some rope had been tied to the clamps, with the other end tied to the frame. The sensation in his nipples multiplied; as he tried to move, his nipples were pulled harder, so he soon stayed still.
The butt plug was removed sharply, and he then felt a tongue probing his anus, before what felt like the tip of a cock explored his arse cheeks. The cock slowly pushed into his waiting hole, relaxed considerably by the butt plug. He felt it slide in, but was not aware of any pain as the cock fully entered his hole and slid out again. It quickly pushed back in and then started thrusting. Simon was immensely turned on by the fact that he had no idea who was fucking him, but they were good. As the cock pushed in, the sling rocked which pulled on his nipples, almost causing him to spontaneously combust with the pleasure. The cock thrust harder and harder, the balls slapping against his arse as it did so; his prostate was being stimulated to the max as the owner of the cock grunted with pleasure, moving faster and faster. Just when it seemed that it couldn't push any further, he felt the warm sensation of come flowing into his passage, thick spurts of it accumulating deep inside his arse. With a couple of quick thrusts the cock extricated itself whereupon there was a brief pause.
The break was brief, because just as he was enjoying the sensation of the warm come inside his arse, another cock pushed against his cheeks and slid easily into place. This time it seemed that the owner had no time to lose as he immediately thrust hard and deep, grabbing Simon's thighs to gain traction. The cock was bigger and ticked his passage more than the previous one and he could feel precum trickling from his own cock. The balls slapped hard against his cheeks, making enough noise even for Simon to hear it through the hood. His whole body was rocking with the momentum created by the cock pushing deep and hard into his arse, and his nipples felt like they were going to be ripped from his body. With a spasm from the owner, he once again felt warm come flowing into his arse and mingling with that from the previous cock. This sensation proved too much for Simon as his own cock responded by firing his spunk over his bare chest, hard and thick as the cock strap restricted the flow and increased the pressure. With a slurp, the cock was removed from his passage and he found himself lying limp on the sling. Once again he felt a joint being forced into his mouth, and he sucked on the roach, drawing as much smoke as physically possible from the spliff.
He was removed from the sling and stood up tenderly. He was aware that his arse felt red-raw, what with the earlier canings and the fuckings he had taken. He felt the cold tip of a butt plug being pushed into his arse; it was fairly wide, but the recent fuckings he'd taken had loosened his hole a little, and it pooped in with a little resistance. Next he felt his cock being strapped up as before, connected to the base of the plug. He stood upright and his hands were freed from the mitts. He felt someone messing around with the hood.
"Keep your eyes closed to start with when I take it off" he heard Andy telling him.
The hood was removed and, even with his eyes closed they struggled to adjust to the light. He opened them slightly and let them adjust to the light. It took a few minutes, but eventually they became used to the light and he was able to see where he was. It looked like the spare room of Bill's flat. He saw the sling in the corner, and against the wall two long pieces of wood arranged in a cross with various hooks for attaching rope. For the first time he saw that he was wearing the blue tracksuit, and immediately his cock became erect.
"OK, pack your bag and let's go." Said Andy.
Simon gathered his things and they headed for the door. As soon as he was outside he lit a cigarette, realising that he was craving one quite badly. He drained it quickly as they walked towards the station.
"I'm going to run for it. You coming?" Asked Andy.
"Nah, I'll finish this cigarette"
Andy rushed off to catch the train leaving Simon sucking greedily on his cigarette. Despite smoking it down as far as his fingers could handle the heat, he still wasn't satisfied and immediately lit another. He pulled as hard as he possibly could, inhaling all of the smoke and making sure that none escaped as he removed the cigarette from his mouth. He took another deep drag as the smoke poured from his nostrils, once again making sure that none was wasted. He inhaled sharply and held it in his lungs, letting his hand drop down to his side. He caught his reflection in the glass of a shop and only now remembered that he was wearing his new royal blue Lacoste tracksuit. Although it was dark, the street lights caught the colours perfectly, and he felt his cock harden in response. He could see the smoke rising from his cigarette, flowing up the arm of his jacket and occasionally passing over the front, depositing a smoky residue wherever it travelled. Simon finished his cigarette, finally feeling satisfied and flicked it onto the road. He brought his right arm to his nose and smelt the aroma of the tobacco smoke which had impregnated the silky material. It was a smell that he found strangely arousing; most people found the smell of smoke abhorrent, but Simon positively revelled in it. He checked the departure board and saw that he had five minutes until the next train; just time for another cigarette. He decided to see how much smoke he could take into his lungs; pulling hard on the newly lit cigarette, he kept going for as long as possible, inhaling immediately before resuming with another drag. The smoke remained in his lungs as he drew deeply, forcing the next shot of smoke deep into his lungs and going again. The third drag was just as big, and he had to inhale a bit deeper before going for a fourth. By this time his lungs were almost full, but he still managed to finish his drag and pulled the toxic smoke-laden air into his lungs pushing the damaging chemicals far into the recesses of his lungs, adding another layer of sooty tar onto the alveoli which were already feeling delicate from the heavy smoking of the day so far. He held the smoke for as long as he could which, given the volume of smoke he had inhaled was not too long. As he exhaled a much diminished plume of smoke, much of it having been absorbed in his delicate lung tissue, he took another deep drag on the cigarette, ensuring that a steady supply of smoke came with each inhalation. He finished the cigarette with a double-pump and made for the platform. He had to hurry a little as the train was already pulling in, but made it on board and sat down. He was aware that even such little exercise as he had just taken had caused him to become slightly out of breath, his chest rising and falling quickly as his lungs strove to get enough oxygen into his blood stream. He recovered fairly quickly however, and coughed sharply causing some congestion to clear in his chest. He relaxed for the rest of the journey, pushing his hand down the front of his tracksuit bottoms and absent-mindedly rubbing his cock softly. The cock strap was making it harder than ever, but also had the effect of suppressing ejaculation, so he was able to toy with it for the whole ride.
Eventually, the train pulled into London Bridge. He exited the train quickly, and lit up a cigarette as soon as he came out onto Tooley Street. He dragged the smoke deep into his lungs and let it linger; it had only been about twenty minutes since his last cigarette, but his body was demanding more smoke, and Simon wasn't about to deny its needs. At this time on a Sunday the buses ran a little less frequently, so he was not surprised to see that there was a twenty minute wait before his next one. He leant against the wall, puffing hard on his cigarette and lighting another when he finished. He repeated this until the bus hove into sight, smoking five cigarettes in total. He boarded the bus and ascended the stairs, feeling his lungs protesting at the effort after so much abuse with smoke.
The bus ride was about twenty minutes, during which time he managed to roll two very passable joints. He remembered that he needed to inform Conor that he had his tracksuit, so he sent a text message. The response was almost immediate: "Can U meet 2nite?". Simon responded in the affirmative, telling him to meet him in the park near his home.
He got off the bus and entered the park, lighting one of the spliffs as he passed through the gates. It was dark, and the park was mostly empty other than a few people walking their dogs. He headed for a bench near the bandstand and took a seat, placing his left hand inside his tracksuit bottoms without even realising. He sat enjoying his joint, being very careful to not let any burning embers fall onto his tracksuit. As he finished the joint he lit a cigarette and reflected a little on the day's events. Once again he'd been initially shocked by his visit to Bill's apartment, but he had also really enjoyed it. He still felt raw around his bottoms and could feel the butt plug firmly implanted in his arse. He realised that he had smoked a lot of cigarettes, and that his body seemed to be crying out for a constant supply of smoke for the whole afternoon. In fact, looking at the packet, he had only one cigarette left, having started the day with two and a half packs; that was close to fifty cigarettes in one day. He was impressed at the amount he'd smoked, and resolved to make it to sixty which shouldn't be too difficult at the rate he was going. He finished his cigarette and pulled the final one from his pack, tossing the empty container onto the floor.
He was halfway through his cigarette when he saw Conor approaching, looking around to try and spot Simon. Simon waved and Conor gave a half grin, heading towards him. Watching him approach, Simon thought that he looked every bit the archetypal cute teenage scally he so admired. He wore a full Liverpool tracksuit; black bottoms with three white stripes down each leg to just below the knee where they met a red flash which extended round to the back of the leg. The top was mostly red; the right arm was red with white stripes running down about three-quarters of the length. The red extended around most of the bottom three-quarters of the jacket, but the top part was white with the border between the two colours being marked by a black band. The white extended along the left arm which was complemented by three red stripes. The Liverpool crest sat proudly on the left chest, and there was a small Carlsberg logo showing on the collar which Conor had turned up as the jacket was zipped up to his chin. He had light, almost blond, hair, but it was cut very short, probably around a grade two. As a result of his light hair, there was no growth visible on his face even though he was probably too young to shave yet anyway. Simon found him amazingly attractive; he had a boyish, almost embarrassed smile and seemed to be quite self- effacing. He sat down next to Simon.
"Hiya." He said.
"Alright mate. What you been up to?"
"Staying at me old man's tonight."
"Cool."
Simon pulled the other joint out of his pocket and lit up. He smoked a few drags and noticed Conor watching him.
"Want some?"
"Yeah, why not? I found it a bit weird yesterday, but actually ended up enjoying it."
Conor gingerly took a few drags on the spliff; not inhaling much with each breath.
"How long have you been smoking?"
"Only about four months. I smoked a bit now and again with my mates before that, but it's only been the last few months that I smoke every day. Only about four a day though. It's so fucking expensive and all! I smoke more when I'm at my dad's as he smokes and it's easier to hide. When I'm at my mum's it's more difficult as she'd smell it on me. I have to make sure to eat lots of mints before I go home!"
Simon grinned. "I remember having to do that. Trouble was, I started getting less cautious. Used to be I'd stop smoking at least an hour before getting in. After a while I started having a smoke just before going in through the door. My mum was on the way out one night as I arrived and smelled it on me as she kissed me goodbye. That was about eighteen months ago."
"How long have you been smoking then?"
"I started when I was fourteen, so nearly three years now. Like you I started on about five a day, but I easily smoke fifteen to twenty a day now."
"Wow. How do you afford it?"
"Most of my allowance is spent on cigarettes, but my friend Dale has a cheap supply now. That's why I smoke these unfiltered Camels."
As if to prove the point, Simon pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He took a few drags and realised that Conor was holding the spliff towards him. He drained the cigarette in record time and took the spliff.
"Shit, that's some serious smoking!" commented Conor in an admiring tone. "That's an awesome tracky by the way."
"Yeah, it's my new one. Got it today. Which reminds me..." He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out the red Lacoste tracksuit which was exactly the same style as his own, still in its polythene wrapper. "Here you go."
Conor took it eagerly; he ripped open the wrapper and unfurled the bottoms: all red. Next he took the jacket and held it up, noticing that it was the same as Simon's but in red.
"Fucking awesome!" he exclaimed. "Can't believe you got this for sixty quid. I saw this for a hundred and thirty in the Lacoste shop!"
He unzipped the right pocket in his tracksuit jacket and pulled out three twenty pound notes, before handing them to Simon who took them and thrust them into his own tracksuit jacket pocket.
"How many tracksuits you got?" asked Simon.
"About ten now. I just find them really comfortable. Also, all my mates wear them too; only a couple of them have Lacoste trackies though, so this is great!"
"Yeah. Need a good selection! Lacoste are the best."
Simon took a final drag on the joint before handing it back to Conor and reached for another cigarette. A sense of panic gripped him when he realised that he had none left.
"Shit!" he exclaimed.
"What?"
"No fags left."
"You just put one out!"
"Yeah, but I need another."
Conor reached into the pocket of his tracksuit and pulled out a ten pack of Mayfair. He took two out and handed them to Simon.
"Cheers mate."
Simon took one of the cigarettes and lit it immediately, looking for all the world like he hadn't smoked a cigarette for several hours. He pulled hard on the cigarette, concentrating on trying to get as much smoke as possible, but it was clear that it was not satisfying his demand. He drained the cigarette in under two minutes without saying a word. In the meantime, Conor was watching intently, mesmerised by Simon's performance. When Simon flicked the charred butt of the filter onto the path he handed the remainder of the spliff to him.
Simon took it eagerly and inhaled sharply, finally getting some relief. He finished the remainder quickly.
"I guess I'm getting used to the stronger cigarettes; I could hardly taste anything from that Mayfair!"
As if to prove the point he took the other cigarette given to him by Conor and snapped the filter; this done, he placed it into his mouth and lit the end where the filter used to be.
"That's better!" he commented, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as he spoke.
"Damn mate, you're an addict!" laughed Conor.
Simon smiled and reached into his pocket.
"Do you want some blow to take away?"
Conor looked at the large lump that Simon held in his hand.
"I don't have any more cash."
"No problem. I'll give you some this time and if you like it you can buy some more next time."
"OK."
The lump was fairly soft as it was high quality cannabis, and Simon was fairly easily able to tear off a piece which would have been enough for about five joints.
"Here."
Conor took it and smelled. He was obviously pleased by the smell, and put the lump into his cigarette packet.
"Cheers mate."
"No problem."
"I'd better be getting back."
"Me too. Text me tomorrow."
Conor picked up his tracksuit and set off across the park. As for Simon, he instinctively reached for another cigarette and again remembered that he was out.
"Damn. In future I'd better make sure to have three packs on me when I leave the house!"
He headed over to the shop to buy some more. Remembering that even the Marlboro Reds hadn't sufficed last time, he bought a pack of rolling tobacco and some papers before heading back to the park and rolling a cigarette, making sure to add a lot of tobacco. The result was a fat cigarette, with the paper just able to be rolled. He lit up and savoured the pure unfiltered smoke flowing into his lungs and relaxed for a moment. When he was halfway through he rolled another, and headed slowly back towards his home. On finishing the first cigarette, he paused at the top of his street and quickly smoked the second one before ascending the steps to his home.
As he opened the door, he saw his mother putting on her coat.
"Simon. You look terrible! Stink of smoke too. What have you been up to?"
"Just round at Nick's."
"Does Nick smoke?"
"Yes, but not in the house."
"Quite right. I'm surprised he smokes. Mind you, I don't know why you smoke either! Anyway, I'm off out to meet your father. Back around 11"
His mother hadn't mentioned his new tracksuit, but he did catch her looking at him in a slightly funny manner, or was he getting paranoid? She buttoned up her coat and exited, leaving Simon in an empty house. He headed to his bedroom and grabbed a new pack of Camels from the hiding place under his bed, ripping open the packet. Opening the window, he lit up and leaned out, greedily absorbing the thick smoke. Next, he rolled a super strong joint, adding so much cannabis that the tobacco could not be seen under the brown grainy mixture, and again leaned out of the window to smoke. This made him feel very stoned, and he slumped on the bed, asleep almost as soon as he lay down.