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Part 1

Charlotte Frost

Part 2

Finally, Hutch looked over at him. Starsky was sitting up in the seat, looking out the windshield, like he was expecting to see something because Hutch had stopped there.

Time to stop pussyfooting around. "Are you sure about this?" Hutch demanded.

Starsky turned to look at him. "Yes," he said firmly. And then his face softened.

Hutch launched himself across the seat. It wasn't a planned move, but his heart demanded physical contact after going so many hours without. His right hand was full of shirt, and his left was on a firm waist, and his momentum had pressed a startled Starsky back against the door. Hutch's body quivered all over from the heat of the contact and the excitement that lay ahead. His grip on the shirt tightened and he lowered his head....

Starsky's breath smelled of coffee... soft, dry lips which tried to pull away....

Hutch's heart sank. He doesn't want to do this. Just fuck. He slowly pulled back.

Dark eyes, glittering from the light at the side porch of the house, were staring back at him. So shocked.

Please, buddy, don't be upset. It's just love....

Firm hands slowly reached up and gripped his face. Gentle touch. Then drawing him down....

Warm dry lips reached up to touch against his. And touch again. Then gently press.

Yes, yes! So beautiful....

Hutch whimpered, dying a slow death, and tried to spread his long limbs, his left leg falling to the floor, and in doing so his crotch landed on a knee. He reluctantly broke the kiss and hunched his shoulders over, forehead collapsing against a cotton-clad chest, and grunted from the jolt of stimulation that shot through his groin. He groaned deeply, not knowing how to alleviate the sweet pain.

Hands on his head, in his hair, lifting him up. Before he had a chance to open his eyes, lips were upon his once again, pressing firmly this time.

So, so beautiful....

Whiskers were against his chin. Five o'clock shadow. His right hand had loosened its grip on the shirt and was instinctively feeling for soft mounds across Starsky's chest. Only hair....

A hand moving down his quivering stomach.....

Hutch lurched. Oh, GOD!! A sure, masculine hand gripping him through his jeans. Holding his prick in a handful of cloth, but holding it nevertheless. Hutch ground against the hand, feeling himself shudder as a tongue was now darting at his lips. So close....

He arched his ass up and humped against the hand, crying out as fingers managed to find the underside of the crown, rub against there, through the cloth....

Hutch yelled against Starsky's neck as passion flushed through him, bringing blessed relief, wetting his underwear....

He lay panting against the cotton-clad chest. Purposely moved his cheek up high enough to reach the open buttons, so his face was against hair and the familiar, comforting smell of his partner. But as he drifted, he realized Starsky was still highly aroused. He sent his hand down, stopped when it reached the snap of the jeans. Working from feel alone, he managed to part the snap. And then tugged at an uncooperative zipper.

Starsky groaned eagerly and wriggled beneath Hutch. The blond pushed himself up on an elbow, and Starsky managed to sit up straighter and spread his legs wider.

Hutch batted trembling fingers out of the way. Let me do it. Using both hands, he tugged down the zipper over the turgid mound. Aware of the stickiness in his own underwear, he reached in and drew out Starsky's erection from the slit of the white briefs. It was thick and smooth and hard. But that was all he noticed before lowering himself on it, then drawing it into his mouth.

"Oh, God, Hutch!" Hands in his hair, fingers feeling for his throat....

He had no idea what he was doing, but Hutch wanted so much to please the person this proud flesh was attached to. And, perhaps more than that, he wanted to worship it, for it was going to be moving in and out of his ass later on... filling him... pounding him... taking pleasure from him.

He had to release it partway so he could breathe. He loved the way it tasted, such soft flesh encasing such a powerful tool. Loved the distinct ridge separating the head; loved the poignant flavor from the leaking tip.

Fingers stroking along his throat now. "Oh, babe."

Tell me what to do, buddy. Tell me how you like it. He shifted a little, keeping his mouth on the flesh he'd captured, and used both hands to tug down the tight jeans past well-defined buttocks. He kept tugging until they were at the top of Starsky's thighs. Then he reached into the clothing with both hands and grabbed the two fleshy mounds. The feel was exciting beyond description, and his fingers kneaded frantically, digging into the pliant flesh. It was tempting to tease into the crevice separating them, but he was afraid that would be too threatening to that virgin tight ass.

A heavy groan filled the car. "Ohhhhhhh, Hutch." Then, another cry, "Oh, babe." The hand that was stroking Hutch's throat left and traced his arm until finding his wrist. His hand was grasped and brought down to Starsky's groin. Then pressed against his balls.

Oh, yes. Taut sacs encased in delicate skin. He massaged them, loving that feel, especially when Starsky groaned more deeply....

Starsky swelled in Hutch's mouth, and the blond shifted again, trying to squeeze balls, squeeze butt, and suck all at the same time.

"Oh, that's perfect," Starsky suddenly gasped. "Keep your tongue right there."

Hutch's jaws were tiring, but he didn't dare move a muscle, other than keeping his tongue working the underside of that flaring cock.

Heavy hands stroked his hair. The car was silent, other than Starsky's thick breathing. Then a mumbled, "If you don't pull back, gonna come in your mouth."

It was a polite warning, but Hutch didn't want to pull back. He wanted to taste as much of his partner as he possibly could, enjoy the proof of how much he had pleased him.

"God," Starsky muttered breathlessly. Then, "GOD!" His muscles tensed as he made an airy cry, and then he was groaning poignantly.....

....and the back of Hutch's tongue was being coated with a strong flavor. He knew it was silly to love it so much, but he couldn't wait to swallow it down. But wait he did... feeling that flesh in his mouth relax. And then it slipped out, Starsky still groaning.

Hutch felt his groin throb as it shifted around in his sticky underwear. He straightened and looked down at the gasping form hunched against the door. Starsky's slit eyes were watching him.

Hutch swallowed, tasting the bulk of the flavor going down his throat. He ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, then his lips, then swallowed again, closed his eyes - savoring -- wanting to make sure Starsky understood that he'd loved it.

Starsky released a trembling gasp.

Hutch wondered if what had gone on between them just now had changed the rules. He leaned over Starsky, careful to put his hands on the dashboard and the seatback, so they weren't touching his partner; thereby preventing any further sparks from igniting that might prejudice what the other thought he wanted. Hutch looked into those sated eyes. "Is it really just experimentation that you're after?"

His partner expelled a final, heavy breath. Then Starsky's expression became uncommonly vulnerable. He swallowed, then confessed, "I'm after anything that will get me into bed with you."

Oh, buddy.... Hutch felt his mouth fall open. His heart was expanding, beating heavily within his chest. Yes, anything.... You're The Person in my life. All that is important.

Starsky sighed, as though realizing he was throwing himself to the wolves with his next statement, spoken with gentle words. "Don't really care what we do. I want to do anything... everything... just as long as it's with you."

Hutch stared at him, not knowing what to say, but wondering if his chest might literally burst.

Even softer words now, soothing. "It's just love, Hutch. The same love that's always been there. Nothing different about it now."

Yes, the same love. Only now, they'd reached the mutual realization that they could express it in even more pleasurable ways than ever imagined in the past. Hutch leaned down to that soft face. He wanted those lips, but he bypassed them to caress a cheek, knowing how his breath tasted. He kissed the skin there, then gently sucked at it.

Hands were on both sides of his face, redirecting his mouth, then lips pressed back against his.

"Mmmmm," Starsky vibrated against his mouth.

Hutch felt his dick harden further. "Mm-hmm," he agreed. Now a tongue wriggled between his lips, and he parted them. He quivered all over when it started to investigate the inside of his mouth.

Abruptly, it pulled back and the hands left his face. When Hutch opened his eyes, Starsky was looking up at the windshield, almost alarmed.

Daylight. It would be the end of their careers if they were caught messing around, on a public street no less. A public street in their own precinct.

Hutch knew their activities had to end for now, but he couldn't stop himself from getting one last feel. He pushed up Starsky's shirt, and kissed loudly down Starsky's body, feeling the other's furred stomach quiver. Then he kissed the pubic hairs, the top of that sated prick. Desperate for one last taste before parting, Hutch pressed his face against the heavy scrotal pouch, inhaling so that the intense maleness filled his nostrils, wanting to leave Starsky with no question as to his own eagerness. He finally pulled back, then paused when he saw a dollop of semen at the tip of shriveled phallus. He ducked his head and lapped it up.

"Oh." Whimpered cry of delight.

With the renewed flavor on his tongue, Hutch hoisted himself up. He turned the key, started the motor and drove away from the curb.

He was aware of Starsky also straightening - albeit more slowly - and trying to get his clothes back in order.

The next time his clothes come off, it'll be because he's going to fuck me. His prick was shifting again within his wet underwear. How will he want it? he wondered. Hutch would happily get in a crouch with his ass up in the air. Or bend over a chair, if Starsky wanted it that way. Lean against a wall with outstretched hands, so they were both standing up. Starsky could pound really hard, that way. Or maybe Starsky would want Hutch to sit down on his prick. Not Hutch's first choice, but he'd do anything Starsky wanted. But first, he'd drop to his knees before that prick and suck it some more. Taste it. Make it rock hard. He wanted it to be steel when it rammed up his ass. Wanted it to force his body to mold around it. Wanted to be sore after the fucking was over, so he'd have an ongoing reminder of Starsky's having actually been inside of his self.

You've got it bad, Hutchinson.

He realized he was breathing heavily as the sun peeked over the horizon to his left. But then, as he continued to look ahead, he found himself calming.

"Hey, where we goin?" Starsky asked.

They'd just passed Sepulveda Boulevard and Hutch had gone straight rather than turning left. "My place. That's where everything is."

"Oh. Oh, yeah." Starsky apparently hadn't made the connection before that they had to go to Hutch's if his ass was going to lose its virginity to the `"toys".

That is, if Starsky were still interested. A glance to Hutch's right revealed a lopsided grin.

Ah, yes, Mr. Adventure. Wanting to know how good I can make your ass feel. He knew it was possible that Starsky might not like any of it. Everyone was different. Starsky might simply have hang-ups about his asshole. Or it could be that his nerve endings were just a little less sensitive back there.

But one thing Hutch knew for sure was that when Starsky fucked him, it would be such an intense experience that they wouldn't be able to do anything afterwards. So, he was going to have to wait until after Starsky's backside had received all the attention it could handle before he'd get what Starsky had promised him. Hutch knew that he needed to take care of Starsky first. Introduce him to the "toys". He mentally shook his head at the term Starsky had used. And he thought that he'd probably given his partner the mistaken impression about his use of them. Starsky seemed to think he used them often. In reality, it had probably been six months since he'd slept with a single bed partner enough times to feel comfortable enough to unveil his private desire.

Perhaps it had been even longer than that.

Hutch squinted from the early morning sun as he parked the LTD in front of Venice Place. His stomach was twisting with excitement, and now he wasn't sure how they could accomplish much of anything without going crazy all over each other. But he did know one thing for sure. Taking a deep breath, but keeping his gaze straight ahead, Hutch said, "I'll go up first. Have to shower." He swallowed thickly, feeling his stomach coil more, even as his voice softened. "You're welcome to join me."

He waited a split second and was grateful when there was no reply. Starsky obviously understood why they couldn't walk up the stairs together. They couldn't be trusted to keep their hands off each other, and they couldn't risk anyone seeing the slightest provocative touch.

Hutch got out of the car.

He almost groaned out loud, anticipating what was ahead, as he climbed the steps. His prick was completely hard again. He unlocked the door and pushed it barely closed, then forced himself to march into the bathroom without giving himself a chance to think, for fear that he'd make himself too crazy. He quickly undressed, relieved as his eager manhood was freed. He stroked it soothingly, then pushed the shower curtain aside and bent over the tub to start the water.

The front door closed.

Hutch felt a shiver race up his spine, aware of his naked rear facing the bathroom doorway. The water was the right temperature and he automatically pulled up the shower release on the spout. Water streamed out from the shower head.

He didn't know if he should just get in. Or if he should turn around first. Indecision left him frozen.

Heavy breathing was heard from the doorway.

"My cock's already hard again," came the ragged announcement.

So's mine, Hutch thought breathlessly as he imagined the proud flesh of his partner. If he dared turn around, he would be on his knees in seconds, milking Starsky dry once more, unable to stop himself. And then, he might not get what he wanted before the night was over. And Starsky needed to be rock hard in order to fulfill Hutch's fantasies.

Nerves quivering, Hutch straightened and got into the tub. He yanked the shower curtain closed. He thought he heard the sound of a snap. Starsky was undressing. If Hutch hurried, he could be soaped and rinsed before Starsky joined him. Then he could focus on his partner. His virgin partner.

Gritting his teeth as he lengthened and throbbed, Hutch thoroughly soaped his private areas, then his armpits. He used his hands to help rinse himself off faster under the spray of the shower.

Starsky pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the tub. Smoldering eyes looked up at Hutch.

Hutch wrapped his arms around that hard body, lips finding his partner's. His heart accelerated even as his chest seemed to fill with warm air... as though his body rose and drifted a few feet off the ground.

Starsky broke the kiss and looked up at him.

Hutch ran his thumb along the swollen lower lip, marveling at the fact that his had just tasted that flesh, created that swollen effect.

Starsky said, "Feel like I'm floatin' on a cloud."

A poet, too. In addition to being the most wonderful man Hutch had ever known.

Hutch's thumb dropped off the side of Starsky's mouth, having curled back the lip. To lose himself in the pleasures of that moist flesh....

But, no, he was here to instruct, to demonstrate a lesson. Starsky was counting on him. And, if all went well, they could share the most sacred of unions....

Hutch placed his hand behind Starsky's head, amazed that those eyes hadn't blinked in all this time. He bent his head, slowly, and touched his lips to Starsky's. Barely pressing... his hand massaging against the curly head, the quivering fingers of his other hand sliding down hair-covered skin to the dip of a well-defined waist. And then the generous curve of a rounded buttock. Hutch squeezed.

Starsky gasped, breaking their kiss, and Hutch swung them around, so that it was Starsky who was under the spray. His hand continued to knead the generous flesh, and Starsky gasped again. "Hutch -" He clutched at Hutch's shoulders, as though trying to keep himself upright.

"Easy," Hutch soothed, to himself as much as to Starsky. Their eyes met, reaching a mutual agreement, and they each released their grip at the same time.

Hutch relaxed then, focusing on the task ahead. He grabbed the soap and brought it up against Starsky's back, moving in leisurely circles.

Cleanliness was a great way to lower inhibitions. Hutch loosely held Starsky with his left hand while working the soap lower with his right. He inserted the bar between well-defined buttocks and washed on down. Starsky bent, and Hutch jolted when lips sucked at his rib cage.

"Easy," Starsky soothed. The nibbling moved upward.

Hutch felt obeying was impossible. He straightened and gently pushed Starsky away, and his partner looked up at him with smoldering amusement.

"Rinse off," Hutch said thickly, not trusting that he could do it without being attacked again.

Instead, Starsky bent his head and looked between their bodies. Before Hutch could follow his gaze, Starsky had taken his erection in a firm hand.

"Oh, God," Hutch gasped, feeling his knees go weak. He wanted it. So much. "No," he growled, wrenching himself away. "Rinse off." He jerked back the shower curtain and stepped out.

Why had he done that? he wondered as he quickly toweled off. Starsky's hand had felt so good, so wonderful....

Because he hadn't wanted to lose control. Not yet. He had to be good to Starsky. So Starsky might want it again sometime. He wanted this to be a long night. They would have to pace themselves. Or do we have the rest of our lives?

No, don't think past tonight.

The water went off. Hutch grabbed a towel from the shelf and shoved it at Starsky just as he emerged from the tub. "Here," he said, turning away. "I'll get the bed ready."

He didn't know what he'd meant by that, but he was grateful to leave the bathroom and all the sexual energy that he wasn't sure he could resist.

Or did it really matter if he resisted?

Yes, a part of him answered as he moved into the bedroom area, resist. Pleasure him. And then there will be time for me. A quiver went up his spine.

He straightened the bed covers, then pulled a stack of hand towels from the bureau and found more pillows in the closet. He got into bed, turned on the lamp, flipped the covers over his waist, and leaned down to the bottom drawer of the nightstand. That was the special, private drawer. He took out a tube of K-Y ointment and decided to leave everything else for the time being. He placed it on the nightstand. He heard the bathroom light go off, and he rolled onto his back in the bed, holding the covers up to his chest, while also pulling them back to leave a space for Starsky.

The man he'd been waiting for approached the bed with a towel around his waist. "I missed you," he said seriously.

Hutch's heart thundered. "Then let's get reacquainted."

A damp body met his own, and the bed rocked as their lips connected. Starsky straddled him and Hutch had his arms full of his partner, who now broke away from his lips to kiss all about his face. The kisses were wet and soft and devouring.

"Ah, buddy," Hutch gasped, his hands moving up and down Starsky's sides.

Those two words brought a halt, and Starsky pulled back to look at him with warm, affectionate eyes. "Never knew you were so much fun."

Hutch laughed and wrapped his arms around Starsky, bringing him closer so that his head rested on a strong shoulder.

This was such familiar territory. Safe. Comforting. Hutch reached up and placed the flat of his hand against Starsky's back, feeling the sparse hairs. Such a contrast to his own delicate skin.

Starsky sighed contently, his weight growing heavier against Hutch's shoulder.

The tidal wave that had started in the car was finally ebbing. For better or worse, Hutch felt his head clear to make way for conscious thought. He planted a wet kiss against Starsky's throat, then whispered, "Still want to?" He hoped his meaning was clear.

Slowly, Starsky straightened and regarded him with a large, affectionate grin. Then he bent, and Hutch felt a kiss on his nose. He hadn't realized until now how sensitive he was there.

Equally soft, Starsky asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Hutch shifted, getting on his knees, aware that he was naked while Starsky was covered with a towel. But he felt in control, now that Starsky was yielding the upper hand. Will it always be like that? he wondered. No, that was thinking ahead. He couldn't allow himself that.

Hutch pushed a couple of pillows against the headboard. "Here," he said, taking Starsky by the arm, "lie back against those." He released him to grab a couple more, which were flatter, and placed them a few feet away. "Put your butt up on these." He helped maneuver Starsky, trying to ignore the embarrassment he felt at using the word under these circumstances.

He had Starsky where he wanted him -- face up, rear perched accessibly on the pillow, waist still covered by the towel, which had loosened.

Starsky grinned again.

Hutch's heart felt as if it were melting... or expanding. "What are you laughing at?" he asked, nevertheless grateful for whatever humor Starsky was feeling.

"Nothin'. Just enjoyin' myself."

Hutch blinked, then asked, "You really... want to do this? What me to... show you...?"

"How good it feels to have things up my ass? Sure."

Hutch didn't know what to say in response to that determined, unromantic tone. "You're teasing me."

"No. I'm enjoying you." Then the smile faded and Starsky's voice softened. "Figure you doin' anything to me is gonna be... real nice." He swallowed thickly. "Real, real nice."

Ah, buddy. "I love you so much."

The grin returned. "You're just saying that because you're gonna take away my last remaining virtue."

Hutch chuckled this time, happy to have the humor. He leaned forward for a smacking kiss. He couldn't believe how good Starsky tasted. How, in all their years together, he'd never known that. "Only because you're going to let me." There was still a question in his tone.

Starsky tossed the towel aside and spread his legs. "I insist, if it'll make you feel better."

Hutch didn't bother glancing down. He leaned forward again, microscopic butterflies racing through his veins, as he felt such relief that Starsky was so bold... and wanting his knowledge so badly. This kiss was especially delicious, and Hutch's lips held their twin flesh captive, while his hand reached down a fur-lined belly to wiry pubic hair, and then a turgid shaft of baby-soft skin. He gripped it.

"Mmmmmmmmm," Starsky groaned against his mouth.

That firm flesh had tasted so good in the car. But if he yielded to the demands of his taste buds, then he'd probably never get Starsky hard enough a third time to fuck him.

Instead, Hutch insisted that his lips enjoy these even newer sensations just as much... five o'clock shadow against his exploring tongue, scent of strong maleness. Heavy breath against his face. His hand moved down to safer territory, exploring the taut, slightly wrinkled texture of Starsky's plump scrotum.

Time for the lesson to begin.

He pulled back just enough to look into smoldering, expectant eyes. "The most important thing," he began self-consciously, "to enjoying any kind of anal sex, is to relax. The more relaxed you are, the more you can feel the sensations. And it's just like anything else - it takes practice to get the most out of it. It might not feel like anything special the first few times."

"But obviously special enough to try it again," Starsky noted.

Hutch shrugged. "Depends on the person, I guess." He slid his hand lower, gentling his touch as his fingers came into contact with the damp, tender skin of the perineum. "I'm just going to play with you a while. Get you used to being touched there."

Starsky spread his legs wider. "Knock yourself out."

Hutch grinned. Starsky was nicely relaxed against the pillows. Such trust there.

He dipped his head and brought his fingers up to his mouth, wetting them with a good helping of saliva. As he lowered them, he leaned forward to sample a tiny nipple that was surrounded by chest hair. His tongue lapped at the little protrusion, while his index finger found a depression within wrinkled skin.

Starsky groaned, arching his chest as his hand settled in Hutch's hair. Hutch sucked the little pap into his mouth, encouraged by Starsky's approval. His finger spread the spit around the clenched opening, using a gentle, steady, massaging motion.

Both hands were in his hair now. "Like what your finger's doin'," Starsky whispered.

Hutch released the nipple and moved to the next one. "Mmmm," he said, meaning more than just the taste. His finger continued to massage, around and around, and he could feel the relaxation. Delighted with the response he was provoking, he kissed up Starsky's chest, then up to his throat... his chin... then settled on his lips.

"Mmmm," they both said, melting together.

Hutch pushed a bit more with his finger, felt the tip go in a few millimeters. His erection throbbed and he reluctantly released succulent lips to plant light kisses up Starsky's cheek, across his nose....

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Starsky. Such beautiful eyes. Satisfied. Excited. Hutch swallowed thickly. "Ready for me to push it in? Real easy."

"Yeah. Feels fine now."

"This will be a little different," Hutch warned. He removed his hand to reach for the K-Y. He remembered the first time a companion had put her finger up his ass - probably in college - and it had seemed like such a rude invasion. When his fingers were gel-coated, he sat back on his heels and lowered them again. He noted that Starsky's erection had softened somewhat, as his had. Pleasing Starsky - and not hurting him in the process - was what was most important.

Hutch stroked the wrinkled orifice again, sorry that the gel made the contact less personal. Gently, he said, "Just let me know if I move too fast. Just going to ease it in."

"Whaddya want me to do?"

"Just relax."

"'M already relaxed."

"Then stay that way." Hutch's gaze remained on where their bodies met as he watched the first half inch disappear into darkness. He felt the tight, powerful sphincter and pushed more.

Starsky grunted.

Hutch glanced up. "Okay, partner?"

"Yeah." His eyes were on the ceiling. "Just feels really funny."

"You'll get used to it," Hutch soothed. "Don't worry that you're going to have an accident. You're not."

"If you say so."

"I say so." Hutch pushed to the second knuckle, feeling the warmth of this special man's body, the snug tightness. His genitals throbbed. He let the finger slide in farther. "You're doing great."

"Is it good for you?" Starsky asked, teasing.

Hutch chuckled. "You nut." Then, seriously, "It will be in a minute or two."

"What's gonna happen in a minute or two?"

"I'm going to make it special." He hoped that was true.

Hutch moved the finger in and out, grateful for the greater ease than just a few moments ago. "Going to put in another. Try to stay real relaxed, just like this." He drew the first finger back, wriggled it to stretch the opening, then pushed with his middle finger, forcing it into the tight hole.

Starsky drew a breath.

Hutch looked up. "Okay, partner?"

The breath was released. "That feels really funny."

"Let yourself adjust." Hutch shifted, so it was easier to control how much he pushed the fingers in. Such an odd brand of intimacy, his fingers up his partner's ass. He twisted both digits, working them farther past the tight ring, and throbbed again when he heard the wet sound of manipulated gel against tender skin.

"Not so funny now," Starsky said. His head fell back and he gazed at the ceiling. "Can't believe that's you in there."

Tell me about it. Hutch met his eye, leaning forward, even as the fingers pushed up farther. "It's me in there," he whispered. Those lips, a few inches from his own, looked so enticing. "And this is me right here." He stretched, moving to kiss those irresistible lips, while not losing his place inside his partner's warm body. Their lips settled together, and his heart accelerated when Starsky's hand gripped his shoulders, fingers kneading into his flesh.

Starsky's muscle flexed around Hutch's fingers.

"Ah, buddy," Hutch said as he pulled back, not knowing how else to express what he was feeling.

"Ah, buddy, is right," Starsky grinned. "You're right, it does feel better now."

You don't know anything yet. "Close your eyes," Hutch directed. "Take a deep breath and really, really relax."

He watched as Starsky obeyed.

"I'm going to try something. Just let the sensations happen to you, don't try to force them. It might not seem like anything special at first." Hutch remembered the first time he'd been pleasured internally. It had taken a few times for him to lower his inhibitions enough to really enjoy it. Of course, he hadn't had the trust in his bed partner that Starsky had in him right now....

Hutch looked down at where they were joined. He curled his fingers toward Starsky's balls, rubbing against the buttery tract.

Starsky spread his legs more, perhaps involuntarily.

Hutch now moved the digits in and out, while keeping them pressed against the front of Starsky's body.

"Man," Starsky grunted. "Man, that's somethin'."


Hutch watched as Starsky's penis started to rise and fill. His partner's anal muscles were even more relaxed, allowing Hutch to move his fingers more freely. He could feel the outline of the little gland that was unique to the male body. The gland that had taught him the value of involving his asshole in his sex play.

"Gee," Starsky panted, his eyes still closed, "that's incredible." He attempted to spread his legs even wider.

That proud, erect penis was too much to resist. Careful to keep the motion of his fingers, Hutch bent and placed his mouth over the first few inches.

"Ah, Hutch. Ah, Hutch." Starsky began to thrust upwards, then stopped, as though realizing that doing so would disrupt the internal pleasuring.

"Mmmm," Hutch expressed his own pleasure as his mouth milked the turgid cylinder. With his free hand, he followed the shaft downward until feeling the mass of pubic hair. He pushed, feeling the base of Starsky's penis beneath the flesh. He forked his fingers around the thickness, then pressed downward against the pubic region, while pushing up with the fingers inside.

"GOD!" Starsky cried out, anal muscles spasming as his cock swelled and dribbled precum onto Hutch's tongue. "God! Oh, dear God!"

Hutch felt his own penis leaking fluid as a quiver went up his spine. This was going better than he'd ever expected. He'd wanted Abby to do this to him, pleasure his prostate from both sides. She was good at anal sex play, and in general an excellent partner in bed because she was sophisticated and believed in open communication. She'd helped Hutch discover the pleasures of his prostate, but they'd never done this particular act because she'd left him before Hutch had had a chance to ask her. But now he felt vindicated because what he himself had wanted was being used to pleasure this person he wanted to pleasure so very much.

Starsky was still crying out, almost sobbing, and his hands grabbed Hutch by the head. Careful to keep the symphony of his fingers in motion, Hutch lowered more of his mouth over Starsky's thickness, feeling it threaten the back of his throat. He swallowed around it.

Hands gripped Hutch's head harder. "Shit! Holy fucking shit!" Starsky jerked upward, choking Hutch, his asshole clenching tight around Hutch's fingers. "AAAHHHHHHHH!"

Hutch's whole body shook and he coughed and pulled back, so that only the first few inches were within his mouth. Silky fluid erupted onto his tongue as his fingers were released, and now only small spasms teased them. Hutch wrapped his other hand firmly around Starsky's shaft, loving the smooth skin, even as the flesh beneath relaxed.

Starsky's hand covered his face, and he suddenly jerked onto his side, freeing Hutch's mouth and fingers. He was gasping for breath and groaned, "Oh, God, oh, God. Oh, God."

Careful of rocking the mattress, Hutch lay along beside him. He reached for a hand towel and wiped off his fingers. Then he stroked Starsky's sweaty hair.

"Oh, God, Hutch." Starsky seemed to have finally regained his breath. He opened his eyes. And smiled.

Hutch's heart melted and he shifted closer. "Did you like that?" he asked tenderly.

"Think I left the planet."

Hutch kissed him on the forehead, tasting the salt of sweat.

"Mmm," Starsky said in protest, tilting his chin up.

Hutch chuckled softly and obeyed the command, settling his lips heavily on Starsky's. In the aftermath, all his being had been centered in his chest and the nice feelings there. But now his groin ignited once again. He undulated against Starsky's body unintentionally.

Starsky broke the kiss, gazing up at him.

Hutch gazed back, not daring to choose the path to release. However Starsky wanted to do it was what he wanted most.

Starsky reached up with a finger and traced Hutch's lips. "Guess what you're gonna get to do."

Hutch throbbed between his legs, even though he had no idea what Starsky had in mind.

"And I even know how you want it."

Hutch groaned, needing relief, but still not knowing what Starsky was thinking. So unusual, that.

Sated eyes glittered in the light of the lamp as Starsky put his arms around Hutch's neck. "Don't think I wasn't listening." He tilted his head and teased softly, "Who was it? Oh, yeah, the happily married couple. You telling the wife how she should get into a crouch so her husband can plunge into her deeply."

Hutch stopped breathing. Starsky couldn't possibly mean....

"Think I kinda like the deeply part. Your fingers can't do that."

Hutch blinked. He knew what he must say. "Starsky, no. I won't do that to you." He realized that he needed to present a reason. "It's too much too soon." You were supposed to do it to me, he silently protested. Only... he'd done a little too good a job at introducing Starsky to anal sex play, and the other's orgasm had left him sated, but still ridiculously willing.

"Don't try to tell me you don't want it," Starsky said tenderly. Hutch's erection was taken in a firm hand, and he moaned.

"Been sorta neglected." Starsky took his hand away. "Let's give it what it wants." He started to turn.

Hutch grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. "Stay like this awhile. I need to stretch you out first." I can't believe this is happening. He was leaking fluid.

A shadow came over Starsky's eyes. "You mean the toys?" His voice was disapproving.

"It'll be okay. It's necessary, buddy." Even though Starsky didn't like the idea at all, there was no way Hutch was going to hurt him unnecessarily. He reached to the bottom drawer of the nightstand and pulled out the small latex vibrator and grabbed the K-Y. The big vibrator was for later. "Don't worry, it's clean," he said, not knowing if he needed to say that. He didn't meet his partner's eye as he squeezed the silky substance onto the latex. He rubbed it around with his finger, and then straightened.

Starsky was settled back against the pillows again with his legs spread. The passion had left his eyes, but Hutch could still see the gentle humor. He reminded him, "It might feel good." He didn't bother pointing out that introducing Starsky to the toys had been the whole intent of tonight's activities. But then, maybe nothing that was happening had turned out as either of them intended.

"Relax," Hutch whispered as he placed the device between Starsky's legs. "Let yourself stretch." He put his finger in first, feeling how relaxed the muscle was. This might be easy. He pulled the finger out and gently pushed with the vibrator. Starsky lay still, not reacting, as the first half of it disappeared into his body.

"Okay?" Hutch said, watching Starsky look at the ceiling.

"Feels funny."

He introduced a brief undulating motion, moving it in and out a centimeter at a time. He himself liked what that did to his nerves. Abby had been particularly skilled at stimulating him that way.

"I don't like it. Take it out."

Disappointed, Hutch said, "I want to make sure you're stretched enough." My prick's a heck of a lot bigger than this thing. Especially now.

"Then use more of your fingers or somethin'. Come on."

There was no arguing with that tone. Starsky knew what he liked. And what he didn't. Hutch removed the latex, wiped it against the mattress, and placed it on the nightstand.

Starsky spread his legs more, and the glint returned to his eyes. "Really like what your fingers were doin' before. Just put more of them in there."

Hutch's disappointment disappeared. Starsky wanted him inside his body, and Hutch had certainly liked being there.

He applied more lubricant to his right hand, and introduced a pair of fingers. He rocked them in and out, bending at the knuckles, and then inserted his ring finger.

Starsky's lips parted and his eyes were hooded. "Really like you bein' in there."

Hutch restrained a groan as his erection throbbed. He swallowed thickly. "You're doing terrific, buddy." Fantastic. The fact that Starsky had gotten anywhere near this far was beyond Hutch's greatest expectations. He bent his knuckles, feeling the protest of the tight sphincter. Starsky's breath halted a moment, but then he exhaled deeply.

Hutch didn't think his small pinky could help matters, so he pushed the three fingers in as far as they could go. And then wriggled them around.

"You're on fire, aren't you, Hutch?" Starsky's breath was thick and heavy.

Hutch closed his eyes. "I'm insane for you." He wondered if it were possible that his penis might burst before he even achieved penetration.

"Would like to taste you," Starsky panted, "but then I probably couldn't stop, and then we couldn't share this."

Share. Hutch's heart flipped over.

He let his fingers slide back, and then he carefully pulled them out.

Starsky knelt up, pushing the pillows out of the way.

"No," Hutch said, just now realizing that he didn't want to slam deeply into Starsky. "I don't want it like that." He took Starsky's arm. "Lie down on your side." I want to be close to you. So close. His erection ached as Starsky obeyed.

"Like this?" His back was to Hutch.

"Yes." Hutch took a pillow and lifted Starsky's head. He placed the pillow beneath him, and then planted a series of kisses along Starsky's cheek. Starsky tilted his head back, and Hutch hungrily captured his lips with his own. He groaned as he ran his hand along the fur of Starsky's chest, his thumb bumping into a tiny nipple.

"Mmmm," Starsky groaned in return.

Hutch was afraid it might be over before it began. He released Starsky and settled on his side behind him. He took his erection in hand and wiped the fluid against the uppermost buttock.

"Come on, Hutch," Starsky said. "It's time." He pulled his leg up.

Hutch rested his cheek against Starsky's back. He took the K-Y and squeezed some along the head of his aching cock. He smoothed it around, then dropped the tube and positioned himself against Starsky's opening.

He kissed Starsky's back. Then he pushed.

Starsky gasped as the barrier gave way.

Hutch waited, nerves exploding along his penis.

"S'okay," Starsky said shakily.

Hutch slipped back. He thrust again into the tightness, farther this time.

"Oh, God," Starsky said, and Hutch wasn't sure if it was a cry of pain or pleasure. He waited again, this time moving just enough to keep from slipping back.

"More, Hutch."

Hutch rose up on an elbow. With his other hand he grabbed Starsky's arm to brace against it, then thrust firmly.

"Oh, man."

Hutch pushed once more, feeling rounded flesh against his flanks. He stretched to bury his face against Starsky's neck. He released Starsky's arm and found his hand instead, entwining their fingers.

"Man, Hutch." Wonder now.

It was going to be over too soon. Hutch squeezed Starsky's hand, and undulated gently, feeling the snug enclosure grip all along his barrel. "Dear God." He was paying homage to the wrong being. "Oh, buddy. Starsk." His hand squeezed again. "Ohh." He licked at the salt on Starsky's neck, then thrust deeper.

Starsky groaned.

Hutch shifted a fraction, then released Starsky's hand and wrapped his arm around his chest. The nerves in his cock had tipped him over the edge, and he thrust earnestly now, seeking the ultimate pleasure. His internal male organs tightened, preparing his seed for release. He drove into Starsky, faster and deeper, tightening his arm around his chest, burying his face in his neck.

The peak was suddenly there, and Hutch cried out softly as the emission raced out of him and into Starsky's body.

He groaned as the most poignant sensations waned, then he nuzzled Starsky's neck. His hand rubbed leisurely against the strong chest. He braced his knee against Starsky's leg, then carefully withdrew. He kissed Starsky's neck... again and again.

Starsky rolled over, making a noise of contentment. Hutch leaned over him, kissing again, this time all about his face. Then lassitude overtook him and he settled back.

Starsky grinned lazily at him. "You're a good lover."

"That's because you're so good to love."

Starsky's grin widened.

Hutch reached out and brushed his fingers along Starsky's face. "Or maybe it's just that I'm a little bit in love with you." His heart quickened. "Maybe more than a little."

Starsky shifted closer. "I think the feeling's mutual." He gripped Hutch's hand and their fingers intertwined.

Hutch closed his eyes and drifted peacefully. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he felt the heat of Starsky's body against his own.

His lips were kissed. "Your turn, babe," Starsky said enticingly.

Hutch opened his eyes. His partner's orbs were hot and eager.

"Think I forgot?" Starsky teased.

Butterflies stirred in the pit of Hutch's stomach. "Didn't think you could... so soon." It's really going to happen.

Starsky kissed Hutch's lips. A brief touch... but fluid and wanting. "Of course, I can. Especially when I'm this hungry, and I know my buddy is gonna like it." His lips settled on Hutch's once again... a long time this time.

Hutch rolled onto his back, bringing Starsky with him. A thrill shot through him, as he felt his partner's weight on top of him.

Starsky released him, but his breath was hot against Hutch's face as his groin surged against Hutch's thigh. "After you've felt me inside you, you're going to want to get rid of all your little toys."

Hutch felt a stir in his sated groin. Yes. Of course, he would. Substitutes would no longer be necessary after he'd had the real thing. Oh, Starsky....

Starsky kissed him again, sweetly this time. Then, just as sweet, "You tell me how you want it, and that's how I'll do it."

Hutch already knew. He pushed up with his arms and grabbed the pillows. He placed them in a mound and settled his lower back on top of them. He leaned forward and took Starsky's arm. "Like this. Deep."

Starsky was on top of him, and he took Hutch by the shoulders and lowered himself to his chest. He rubbed his cheek all about the smoothness, and Hutch put his hands in Starsky's hair. "Buddy," he said as an endearment.

Starsky settled more comfortably, his erection poking against Hutch's balls. His tongue worked at a nipple.

"Ohhh," Hutch encouraged, loving the wet sensation.

Starsky nuzzled it a while longer, then left it with a loud smacking noise. His lips settled on the opposite pap.

Hutch felt the stimulation racing through his veins, as though it couldn't find an outlet, since his cock was already sated. He writhed and groaned, to encourage Starsky on.

Starsky planted kisses along his chest, then down the center of his body, stopping at his navel. Hutch lurched when a tongue swirled around in there. Then Starsky was on top of him again, covering Hutch's whole body, his lips capturing Hutch's once more.

Hutch threw his arms around Starsky, squeezing tight. At the same time, he thrust up with his hips, wanting more... more contact, more stimulation, more sensation.

Starsky licked wetly at his throat, then drew his tongue up his cheek, to his nose, lapped at the tiny flesh between his nostrils, then across the bridge.

Hutch clutched him harder, demanding....

The wetness left. A soft kiss on the top of his nose now. Gently, Starsky asked, "How do you want me to get you ready?"

Starsky hated the idea of the toys so much that Hutch didn't even want him to have to touch them. Besides, he didn't need much preparation. He held up a pair of fingers and rotated in the air, gasping, "Make larger and larger circles. Put the - " Hutch looked to one side and found the tube of K-Y. He gave it Starsky. "Use this."

Starsky placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "You tell me when you're ready."

Hutch collapsed back as Starsky straightened and worked with the gel. He could feel that huge thing poking against his thigh. Before long, it would be up his ass. He was as ready as he was going to be, but it made sense to ease the way. But he still hoped it would leave him sore, so he would have a constant reminder....

Fingers probed at his asshole, and then one went in. He'd learned, mainly from sessions with Abby - was she perhaps the only bed partner with whom he'd had extensive anal play? - to let it probe inside him. It was an odd feeling, he was reminded now, but he stayed still and let Starsky work the other finger in.

Starsky inside his body. He would never have imagined it could happen.

The digits were moving. Circling. Now back and forth, while still rotating. Hutch felt his asshole stretch to accommodate in a way that he found very satisfying. He wondered how patient Starsky was going to be, and then remembered that the next step was up to him. "That's enough." He released a heavy breath of excitement. "Put the gel on you, then -" He knew he didn't need to complete the thought.

He watched while Starsky tended to his shaft, which was bold and generous.

Starsky wiped his hand against the bed, then leaned over Hutch, one hand on his thickness.

Hutch pulled his legs back and settled them over Starsky's shoulders. It gave him an awkward, vulnerable feeling. He hoped the awkwardness would pass. But he wanted the vulnerable feelings while he was in Starsky's care. So free....

Starsky bent and laved his tongue between Hutch's pectorals.

So oral....

Starsky straightened and looked at Hutch with smoldering eyes. Hutch felt the gel-covered heat poke between his ass cheeks. He reached forward and pulled them apart, sparing Starsky the awkwardness.

Starsky growled and then he was against the opening. His eyes didn't leave Hutch's as he pushed.

Hutch gasped. Huge. Bigger than any of the devices. Oh, my God. It pushed into him, stretching him. "Yes!" His eyes were closed.

Starsky growled again. He sank deeper and his hands grabbed Hutch's shoulders. "God, Hutch."

"Yes," Hutch encouraged, eyes still closed, focused on the feel of that massive flesh conquering him. "Yes."

Starsky gripped his shoulders harder, and then the thickness pulled back a little. Then slammed in.

"Argh!" Starsky cried. He slammed again.

"God, yes!" Hutch opened his eyes. Starsky was staring down at him. Hutch nodded, wanting there to be no mistaking his enjoyment. "Fuck me good."

He had to close his eyes again, because Starsky's gaze was so intense as he rocked the bed with his thrusts. The motion grew faster and deeper. Hutch had never been penetrated this deeply... either physically or emotionally. His prostate was tingling nicely, even though he couldn't generate another hard-on. "Fuck me forever," he pleaded.

A deep, animal noise came from Starsky. Abruptly, his hands left Hutch's shoulders and grabbed his nipples. Pulling and pinching....

Hutch arched his chest up. He tried to arch his hips up, but he was already fully impaled. Steel hardness rammed forward and backward inside his ass. Staking claim.

Starsky's scrotal pouch slapped against his lower ass as the thrusting speed increased to an incredible degree. Hutch had never known anything like it....

They cried out at the same time. Hutch from the sheer titillation of it, Starsky from orgasm.

The motion finally came to a halt. Starsky was gasping loudly and collapsed on top of Hutch, his shrinking erection withdrawing in the process.

Hutch felt physically empty. But spiritually born.

They dozed a while. Eventually, Starsky shifted to lie beside Hutch. Hutch moved to put the pillows back near the headboard. He was grateful that there was, indeed, stiffness in his legs and an ache in his ass.

Eventually, their hands found each other, and clung. When Hutch finally opened his eyes, Starsky was gazing lovingly at him.

Now a sated smile. "This was one of the best ideas you ever had."

"Hmm?" Hutch grunted lazily. Idea?

"Well... maybe idea isn't the best word." Starsky stretched, long and slow. "But I sure am glad you brought it up." He unlaced their fingers and traced Hutch's nose.

Hutch kissed the finger when it wandered near his mouth. He was too tired to put much inflection in his voice. "What do you mean?"

Starsky's smile went away and he pulled his hand back. "Just what I said: I'm glad you brought us to this." His tone was one of puzzlement at the question.

Hutch furrowed his brow and hoisted himself up onto an elbow. "I didn't `bring us to this'." He wasn't the one responsible for everything that had just taken place between them. "You're the one who wanted to do this."

Starsky blanched. "Huh?"

Hutch couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. "You're the one who suggested we get together after our shift."

"But not until you'd already suggested it."

"What do you mean, suggested it?"

Starsky released a heavy sigh. "You said, and I quote, `You've never had anything up your ass, have you?' End quote."

Hutch's eyes widened. Had this all taken place because of a misinterpretation? He felt a sense of foreboding closing in. "Starsky, I didn't mean - "

Starsky got up on an elbow. "What do you mean, you didn't mean?"

Hutch stuttered a moment, then rushed to explain, "I didn't mean it as a come-on. It was a legitimate question. I had no idea that you'd take it to mean...."

Starsky's eyes widened. Softly, he asked, "You didn't?"

"No. God, no. That would never have crossed my mind. But then when you started suggesting things we should do...." He was in full defense mode now. "And asking all those questions about ass-fucking."

"It wasn't my fault what the questions were! I was just reading them from the magazine! Sheesh! Don't tell me that - "

That stared at each other.

Dear God, don't let this ruin....

Wait a minute!

Hutch collapsed back to the mattress, laughing. He grabbed a pillow and held onto it, he was laughing so hard. He shook and shook.

Starsky was leaning over him. "What are you laughing at?"

Hutch was sorry that he couldn't help it, since Starsky looked so worried. In fact, his partner's eyes were darting about the bed, as though taking in the full implications of their mutual misunderstanding.

Abruptly, Hutch stopped. He reached up and pulled on Starsky's arm, beckoning him to lie on top. He put his arms around him. "It wasn't a mistake," he whispered.

Long eyelashes blinked. And then Starsky collapsed against him. Kissed his cheek. "No, no way. It wasn't a mistake."

Hutch's heart swelled. "Doesn't matter how it happened. I love you. I love you so much."

Starsky pulled back to look at him. "I love you, too. I loved loving you, Hutch. Bein' loved by you. Everything we did together... it was magic."

"Yes." Hutch brought Starsky's head back down against his shoulder. "Magic."

"You're right," Starsky said with finality. "Doesn't matter whose idea it was." His voice was low and sleepy.

Hutch had started to drift off again when Starsky muttered, "You really are a sexpert."

Hutch held him closer. "So are you. And a Hutchpert."

Starsky giggled. Kissed him. And then he was still.

Hutch drifted into sleep.

The End