Sick's First Hit
folder
S through Z › Trainspotting
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,325
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Trainspotting
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,325
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Trainspotting, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Monsters
We fuck like beasts.
He’s digging his nails into my flesh, and he’s pumping in and out of me, and my head is getting hot, my blood is boiling, my cock feels inexplicably hard, harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
He pushes me onto my back like an animal. The splintered hardwood floor scrapes against my bare flesh, and he pounds me deeper into the ground with each carnal thrust, whispering in my ear; “Rents, I’m gunnae fuckin’ blow…”
He gives me three or four violent thrusts, bucking wildly with abandon and the insanity of impending orgasm, then he pulls his prick out of me and sprays his seed all over my chest. I come without even touching myself. My dick lays in a puddle of spunk on my stomach, jerking in the air with my every heartbeat.
I’m half-levitating off the floor, arching like a cat. The musky air hits the sweat on my face, and I break out into goosebumps.
Sick slumps onto his bum, splaying his legs out. He stares at me in the darkness, his eyes and mouth wet like a wolf. He’s panting like one, too. All I can hear is his breathing, and my own heart pounding in my ears.
I gingerly roll onto my side. My arse is bleeding just a bit. I grab a shirt, somebody’s shirt, lying there next to the candles and the gear, and I wipe myself off.
I’m surprised, nobody’s woken up and come down to beat us over the head with the cricket bat Swanny kep behind the bar. Nobody’s seemed to have gotten up at all, the house is deadly quiet, except for the pathetic gasping resonating from the bodies of Sickboy and myself.
After a few dreadful moments of further silence, Simon speaks.
“M’not a fuckin’ poof.”
My heart aches a little.
“Aye. Neither’m I.”
“Shitein’ cunt.” He wheezes, pulling his pants back up his waist.
“S’true!” I groan. “I’m bisexual.” I smile, completely by accident.
Simon laughs. Then I start laughing. Then we howl like phantoms, cackling until we run out of breath, and we roll helplessly on the rotten floorboards, just like a couple of drunken o-level gits.
He’s digging his nails into my flesh, and he’s pumping in and out of me, and my head is getting hot, my blood is boiling, my cock feels inexplicably hard, harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
He pushes me onto my back like an animal. The splintered hardwood floor scrapes against my bare flesh, and he pounds me deeper into the ground with each carnal thrust, whispering in my ear; “Rents, I’m gunnae fuckin’ blow…”
He gives me three or four violent thrusts, bucking wildly with abandon and the insanity of impending orgasm, then he pulls his prick out of me and sprays his seed all over my chest. I come without even touching myself. My dick lays in a puddle of spunk on my stomach, jerking in the air with my every heartbeat.
I’m half-levitating off the floor, arching like a cat. The musky air hits the sweat on my face, and I break out into goosebumps.
Sick slumps onto his bum, splaying his legs out. He stares at me in the darkness, his eyes and mouth wet like a wolf. He’s panting like one, too. All I can hear is his breathing, and my own heart pounding in my ears.
I gingerly roll onto my side. My arse is bleeding just a bit. I grab a shirt, somebody’s shirt, lying there next to the candles and the gear, and I wipe myself off.
I’m surprised, nobody’s woken up and come down to beat us over the head with the cricket bat Swanny kep behind the bar. Nobody’s seemed to have gotten up at all, the house is deadly quiet, except for the pathetic gasping resonating from the bodies of Sickboy and myself.
After a few dreadful moments of further silence, Simon speaks.
“M’not a fuckin’ poof.”
My heart aches a little.
“Aye. Neither’m I.”
“Shitein’ cunt.” He wheezes, pulling his pants back up his waist.
“S’true!” I groan. “I’m bisexual.” I smile, completely by accident.
Simon laughs. Then I start laughing. Then we howl like phantoms, cackling until we run out of breath, and we roll helplessly on the rotten floorboards, just like a couple of drunken o-level gits.