We kissed for a bit and I stopped shaking. We played with each other for a long time, and after we had joined, my cock and her fanny became one thing, then it seemed to vanish as we took off on a big psychic trip together. It was our souls and our minds that were doing it all; our genitals, our bodies, they were just launch pads and were soon superfluous as we went around the universe together on our shared trip, moving in and out of each others heads and finding nothing in them but good things, nothing in them but love. The intensity increased until it became almost unbearable and we exploded together in an orgasmic crash-landing onto the shipwreck of a bed, from a long way out in some form of space. We held each other tightly, drenched in sweat and shaking with emotion
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About Irvine Welsh
Irvine Welsh was a contemporary Scottish novelist. Irvine Welsh is a Scottish novelist, short story writer, screenwriter and filmmaker. His novels and short stories, which almost always take place in his native Scotland, are known for their gritty depictions of working class life and its intricacies; particularly drug addiction, social alienation, lack of opportunity and boredom, amongst others. Read more on Wikipedia →