Glue by Irvine Welsh

hers wir meant fir sookin oan ma knob but the covers’re slippin oaf us. The trick is tae keep her oan the boil, but tae make it soas she’s goat tae take ma cock in her mooth. She’s intae that though, she’s still runnin her hand the length ay it, pillin the foreskin back.
    — That’s great Terry, this is mad, we’re mental . . . she gasps.
    — Spice ay life, ah grunt back at her, — ah want ma tongue right up your holes, one eftir the other, ah tell her. That wis what this boy said in this dirty video that Donny Ness had. Ah eywis try tae mind ay aw they best lines, and the best moves.
    So there’s me straddlin her sixty-nine-style, and she’s goat ma cock in her mooth n she’s suckin hard oan it, and by Christ, this lassie can gam. Ah’m pullin her wee flaps apart and giein it big postage stamp licks n fingerin her cunt first, then her ersehole which smells aw moist and earthy, then ah’m back oantae her clit which feels big and stiff enough tae be a mini-cock, and she pills ma knob oot her mooth n there wis me thinkin she wis gaspin fir air, but naw, it’s her comin in jagged, shocked spasms, ma finger jammed oantae that wee love-button ay hers like it wis stuck oan the dial ay a good radio station.
    So she’s gaspin as her shudders run doon, but ah’m no finished wiher yit, n ah twist roond n pill ehr up and her face is in a wide, mental shock n ah’m oan the bed but ah’ve goat her heid doon oan ma cock, and she’s gammin ays like fuck, her big eyes lookin up n watchin ays, spillin wi gratitude cause she kens that wis jist the starter n she’s gittin well fucked in a second or two. Ah’ve goat her hair in ma hands, twistin they dark locks, n ah’m pillin her tae me, then away fae me, adjustin the pace n range so she gits it right n aye, she kens what she’s daein, cause her heid settles intae the right rhythm n ah dinnae even need tae thrust ma ain pelvis in time or nowt like that. She’s gaggin a bit and she pills away, which is a good thing cause ah wis decidin whether or no ah wanted tae blaw it intae her mooth n save fuckin her in the fanny till later oan, keep the wee hoor aw hoat n bothered. Bit ah think, naw, ah’ll gie her it fine style right now. Ah’m oan toap ay her n gittin in, n she’s sayin, — Aw Terry, wi shouldnae be daein this, no the now . . .
    Ah’ve heard that song before. — Want ays tae stoap then, ah gasp.
    Ye dinnae huv tae be that Bamber Gascoigne cunt oot ay that
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tae ken the answer tae that. Aw ah git is another, — Aw Terry . . . in reply, n ah take that as ma fuckin starter fir ten awright.
    So there’s me right up, n ah’m startin tae git intae ma stride now n this Gail looks away n tenses up briefly, then lets oot a low laugh n pills ma heid tae her, n thir’s a strange expression oan her face. Ah looks up n sees that Maggie’s come intae the room.
    Maggie pills her airms in the shape ay a croass ower her chist. It’s like she’s jist been shot. She stands thaire fir a bit sayin nowt, her wee mooth aw twisted. — Yi’ll need tae go, ma Uncle Alec’s here, she finally whispers at us, lookin aw uptight n worried.
    Gail turns away again, facin the waw, n goes, — Aw god, ah cannae fuckin stand this! She’s grippin the bed clathes, then clawin them like she’s a fuckin cat.
    Ah’m still fuckin solid but and nae cunt’s gaun naewhaire till ah’ve blawn ma muck. — Shut up the now, ah goes tae Maggie, but still lookin at Gail as ah keep thrustin, — you go doon n see yir Uncle Alec . . . we’ll be . . .
    Ah hears the door slam n then Gail starts gaun fir it again n within a few mair strokes she’s makin they noises, n ah wanted tae git her oan toap fir a bit, then mibbe even try n stick it in her other hole tae finish up, but that’ll have tae wait now cause ay that dopey wee Maggie cow, but fuck it, it’ll gie ays something else tae look forward tae later oan, so she’s screamin n moanin n ah’m makin