SCALLY DELIGHTS CH.1 – DALE MA’ BOY

SCALLY DELIGHTS

By: XTALES

CHAPTER 1 – DALE MA’ BOY

(Gay TM/M Submission/Domination)

MAIN CHARACTERS

David = 45 Bank Manager

Dale = 18 Chav

I don’t know why I accepted, I guess I could not refuse a favour to my best friend after all he did for me.

So when he asked me to accompany his son to the match I could not refuse.

My friend bought 2 tickets for Chelsea – Arsenal, but a last minute hiccup meant he had to go to work that day, so he asked me if I could go with Dale instead.

I love Jeff, we’ve been best friends all our life, but God knows how much I hated his son.

I knew him pretty well because the 4 of us, me, Dale, Jeff and my son Mike, would often watch Chelsea games together.

After the game we would go for a beer and then everyone to their respective homes.

So I did know Dale enough to know he was an annoying little brat, he was the stereotypical Chav, always wearing trakies and hoodies, swearing every two words and telling stupid jokes. He was basically dumb as fuck.

I could not even understand how Jeff could rise a son like that.

Jeff didn’t well in life as I did, after a failed business he ended up on the dole, while I became a successful manager for a high street bank.

I Understand his son didn’t have the same chances as mine, but Dale was just too much of a twat, I know it’s not nice to think that way about an 18 years old, but unfortunately that’s the truth.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this trip, and to make things worse, this time I didn’t manage to get a ticket for my son, because it was an FA Cup semi final, and ticket sold in seconds.

For a moment I thought of giving my ticket to my son, then I thought it wasn’t the best idea, I didn’t want that pisshead to bring my well behaved son to his level.

So here I am watching the game with this idiot pretending to enjoy myself.

Thank God we won 3-1 which mean we will play the Final, this cheered me up a bit.

But that didn’t last long.

I was driving Dale home when I realized the lad was wasted, really wasted.

At that time I didn’t even know how could that happen, later he told me that every time he left his sit he came back with a fresh can of beer, he basically had 7 cans of beers without me knowing it, I just assumed that the one in his hand was always the same.

He started blabbering something I could not understand, not that I usually understand what the fuck he is talking about, but this time was literally intelligible.

“Are you fucking drunk?”I said to him. I was furious.

“Yeshhh mate…shorry” he slurred.

“For fucks sake” I cursed, I was particularly pissed because I realized I could not bring him home like that.

Dale certainly is not an angel, after all this kid is going to be a father at 18 as he impregnated a local bitch on a drunk night out, that’s what we are dealing with here.

It wasn’t also a novelty for Dale to get drunk and do stupid shit, regardless I could not take him home like this, my friend trusted me, that won’t be ok.

What to do then?

But while I was thinking what to do with this fucktard, Dale interrupted my train of thoughts.

“Shhhtop…I have to pishh” he said, I barely understood what he was saying, he had to repeat it twice.

“Now?” I said, now I was getting really mad.

“Yeshh…can’t hold it” he said grabbing his cock through the fabric of the tracksuit.

The last thing I needed was to have the inside of my car drenched in stinking chav piss.

I looked around in panic, we were in the middle of nowhere but we could not stop on the side of the road because we were on the highway, luckily I spotted a side road and took it.

I drove few hundred meters more and when I saw a good spot I parked there.

“There you go…you can get off and piss” I said.

I watched him fiddling with the door, he couldn’t even find the handle.

“For fucks sake” I said once again getting off the car.

I approached his side and opened the door.

“Come on, get up” I said pulling him out of the car.

But as soon he was out he dropped on the grass like a sack of potatoes.

He could not stand up, so he just sat there talking shit.

He was so drunk that he was barely coherent. “Mate, jus’, jus’, mate, just list,listen, mate; I am fukking drunk.. I…jus, yeah, I know, mate, mmm…my faul, fault, mate, shooorry”.

This is but a sample of what I was having to put up with, with him still in a heap at my feet as I looked down at him in disgust.

Thank God my son wasn’t anything like him.

Typical chav; dressed in blue tracksuit pants, white Adidas trainers with green stripes, black socks, and a cheap-looking white hoodie, with a Chelsea baseball cap on his head. What attracted my attention was a black device around his right ankle, it was an electronic tag, used to monitor those being kept under a control order.

Jeff didn’t tell me about that, what the fuck this idiot did?

That day was going from bad to worse.

I kept looking at him, he was sitting on the grass, still chatting shit, then I reached out and removed the Chelsea cap, so I could get a proper look at him. When I did so, he suddenly stopped talking, staring at me through bleary, unfocused brown eyes. In the bright light of a full moon, I could see his babyface which was angular, almost square-jawed, he looked younger than his age, making him appear ever so slightly cherubic -the obvious intoxication giving him a certain naïve innocence which for a moment made me forget how much I hated this brat.

For once he didn’t have that annoying trademark scowl of his, that look that you see on every lad face when you walk about council house estates.

His eyes were empty, almost lost, he didn’t look so though now.

I never really bothered looking at his ugly mug for more than few seconds, but now that he wasn’t looking at me with that fake Mr. though look, I could stare at him for few moments, and concluded that he was actually a handsome young man.

He didn’t have a single hair in his face, smooth as a baby, whether by design or by genetics, I didn’t know.

His brown hair was kept short, with gel sweeping it forward and making his wispy fringe with its blond highlights more pronounced.

“Whoot?” He said grabbing his hat from my hand and quietly putting it back on his head.

I looked down at the rest of his body; his hoodie obscured his upper body, but he was boyishly lean, whilst his outstretched legs appeared strong, with big feet fitted with a pair of Adidas trainers at the end of them.

If you forget about his shitty attitude, he was a strapping young lad, shame he had the charm of a stapler and the intelligence of a frog.

“Time to get up. Mate. C’mon” I said.

He half pointed, half waved his hands in the air, “ma…Ive…friends’re comin, jus’ now.” I smiled.

He was so funny in this state. I sat down next to him, and smelt the stink of his beer breath.

Of course there were no friends coming, but his antics started to amuse me so I decide to go along with it “How far away are they, then? Your friends? You’ve been here a little while. Maybe your lost?” I almost burst into laughter but I just wanted to hear more of his drunken nonsense.

After all if I have to be stranded here with a drunken brat, I might just as well have some fun.

“Dey’re…ma friends’re comin, jus’, right now, fanks mate,” He rolled over, away from me, and began to get onto his hands and knees, no doubt

intending to get up at some point, so I stood up, and held out my hand to help him up. Grabbing my hand, he pulled hard on it to bring himself up; I grabbed onto my car door with my other hand.

After he was upright, he turned and toddled off down the field, mumbling

“need’apish”, falling again on the ground as he moved. I quickly gripped his

shoulder firmly with one hand, his flank with the other, and steered his

six foot frame towards a big tree.

“Mate…mate, come, com’on mate; jus’, need to pishh”

“Yeah I know…get on with it, I’ll help you so you don’t fall on your arse”

“Mhhhh… can you help?” he said

“I am helping…” I replied rolling my eyes.

“I mean…to pishh…can you hold me’ cock?”

“You what?” I said. What a cheek.

“Can you hold me fuck’n cock while I pishh? Pleashhh” he pleaded.

I had enough of this situation, I just wanted this over with, so keeping one hand on his shoulder, I brought myself forward so I could reach down with my other hand and, hooking my thumb into the waistband at the front, stretched down the front of his trackies and boxer briefs, hooking them under his balls.