Talk Dirty to Me

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Starsky’s…voice got lower as he offered, “you want me to tell you about it, Hutch…about the dream.”

“Of course I do,” Hutch answered. “As soon as I get home…”

“I want to tell you now,” Starsky whispered in a tone that was usually reserved for the bedroom….

“Starsky,” Hutch protested…. “You’re in the middle of a public place, remember?”

“So what,” Starsky’s voice shrugged. “No one can hear me.” There was a short pause and then the voice that could seduce Hutch in a heartbeat was back. “You know you want me to, Hutch. You know you want to hear all about it.”

 

It all started with this short story. Glow sent it to me for my opinion while I had a house full of (male) housepainters who kept interrupting me every 5 minutes (and couldn’t figure out why suddenly I was so grumpy). I loved the story so much, I felt compelled to fire off a sequel, which I wrote in record time (still with housepainters in residence) and sent back to Glow for her approval. That sequel, Talk Dirty to Me Some More,  is also on the archive. Both stories appeared originally in April Valentine’s zine, Fix 17.

These two stories spawned that notorious collaboration between Glow and me, Talkin’ Dirty Pool. I followed it up with Just Another One of Starsky’s Dirty Moves, as a gift to Glow, and then later wrote Talkin’ Dirty Bingo and Cheap Toupees,  for the winner of a raffle for a charity Glow was involved with.

But it all started innocently, or not so innocently, enough with this short story. Enjoy.

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“Huggy Bear’s,” the familiar voice answered as the connection was made. “Huggy Bear Proprietor. How may I help you?”

“Hey Huggy,” Hutch responded as he stretched his legs out on the bed and loosened his tie.

“Well, if it isn’t our long lost white night. How goes the battle for justice?”

“As usual, the wheels of justice grind slowly, Huggy. Way too slowly.”

Hutch removed the tie and tossed it on top of the jacket that lay sprawled on the chair across from him. He looked around at the walls of the hotel room, which were growing far too familiar to him, and sighed. It had been over a week now and, unfortunately, the end was not as in sight as he had hoped it would be.

“Well my friend, I guess that’s the price you have to pay when you sniff out crime wherever you go. Maybe you should have just sat this one out when you had the chance. Most people can go away for a weekend without getting into stuff like this. But not you.”

Hutch smiled at Huggy’s way of phrasing it, though more often than not this week he had been grumbling about the very same fact. What had started out as a short weekend trip to San Francisco over a year ago to visit the sick mother of a friend he’d grown up with had led him to his current predicament.

“What can I tell you, Hug. I’m a regular crime magnet.”

“It’s all that virtuous blond righteousness. It sends out the vibes.”

Hutch couldn’t suppress the snort of laughter as he kicked off his shoes and pushed the pillow up behind him on the bed.

“Is that what it is? Thanks for clearing that up for me. I was beginning to wonder.”

“Happy to be of service.”

“While you’re being so helpful, can you tell me if Starsky’s been around? I tried the station and the house but he’s not there.” Hutch was anxious to locate his partner. Between his endless meetings with prosecutors and Starsky’s casework, they hadn’t caught up with each other in two days.

“You’re in luck because I can help you out with that too. The Great Huggerino knows all. He’s right here and, in case you’re wondering, he’s alone, so no need to get that blond righteousness worked up into a jealous snit.”

“I wasn’t wondering, Huggy, but thanks for the reassurance.” Hutch smiled again. He trusted Starsky completely. It was the rest of the world he didn’t trust around his ‘too desirable for his own good’ partner. He was glad to hear no one was being stupid enough to try to move in on his territory while he was gone.

“As a matter of fact,” Huggy continued amiably, “he’s sitting right here, all alone, crying in his beer over the empty bed he has to go home to and…ouch!” There was a muffled sound and then Huggy’s voice choked out, “trying to strangle me with a phone cord…”

“Give me the damn phone,” grumbled the familiar voice that seemed to be right on top of Huggy.

“I think he’s anxious to speak with you,” Huggy managed to get out amidst the scuffling sounds. “Hold on please.”

Hutch shook his head in amusement over the familiar antics, feeling incredibly homesick. The next sound he heard was his name being spoken with undisguised enthusiasm, and the feeling multiplied.

“Hutch?” Starsky repeated again when Hutch didn’t answer immediately.

“Right here, babe. Just enjoying the sound of your voice.” In his mind’s eye, Hutch could see the smile that broke out on his partner’s face.

“Yeah, well you would have heard it sooner if some people would learn when to hand over a phone when the call is not for them.”

“I beg your pardon,” came the voice from the background, “but this is my place and anyone who calls here must have some desire to speak to me. You were the one interrupting the fascinating conversation your partner and I were having.”

“Don’t you have some drinks to water down or some burgers to burn or something?”

“Don’t worry, I’m going. I wouldn’t want to cramp your style. I know you have all those sweet nothings you need to whisper…” There was a loud crashing sound, followed by Huggy’s mock outrage. “Hey! You almost hit me with that.”

“Next time I’ll aim better.”

Hutch sunk further down on the bed, opening the top buttons on his shirt as he enjoyed the sounds of home. It was definitely the best thing he’d heard all day. He was also grateful for the reprieve. He wasn’t looking forward to what he had to tell Starsky.

“Hutch, you still there?”

“Of course I’m here. I was listening to the entertainment. You guys should take this act on the road.”

“No thanks. No road trips for me. I’m not good at this separation stuff. This week has been hell.”

“I know the feeling,” Hutch sighed.

Starsky’s voice perked up like an eager child’s. “So what time does your flight get in tomorrow?”

Reprieve over. Hutch took a deep breath and searched for words. “Uhhh, Starsk, listen…about that…”

“Huuuuutch…” The long, disappointed whine was also like that of a child…a child whose balloon had just been popped. The forlorn sound mirrored what Hutch had been carrying in his own heart all day.

“I know, babe, I’m sorry,” he began, his voice filled with regret. “My testimony should have been finished today but the defense requested a continuance and the judge granted it. It’s probably going to be a few more days.”

The line went quiet for a few minutes and Hutch could feel his partner’s body sag from the letdown. Finally, he heard a low, grumbled ‘shit’ from the other end.

“I know, Starsk. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” came the voice trying to relieve him of the guilt. “It’s just…well this just sucks is all.”

Hutch couldn’t agree more. Righteous Blond vibes notwithstanding, how was it that he couldn’t go on a simple weekend trip without ending up smack in the middle of a convenience store robbery that left two people dead? All he had wanted was some damn orange juice, but what he ended up with instead was to walk right in the middle of a botched robbery in progress and two bodies dead on the floor. He knew he should feel better about the part that he had played…after all he had managed to get the jump on the gunmen and disarm them before anyone else could be hurt. But now here he was, one of the key witnesses to the year old crime, stuck in the middle of a trial that felt as if it would never end.

“I should have gone with you.”

“I thought we decided it was best for you to stay there.”

“That was when we thought this thing would last two or three days,” Starsky protested.

“What about Nick?”

“The hell with him.”

Hutch couldn’t argue with that sentiment but he knew that his partner hadn’t meant the words. Nick, in his never-ending streak of bad timing, had chosen this week to pay his brother a visit. Starsky had been torn, not wanting Hutch to go to San Francisco without him, but unable to hide his desire to reconnect with the brother who hadn’t been in touch with him for over a year.

“You don’t mean that,” Hutch said with quiet understanding.

He heard Starsky sigh deeply. “No, I guess not.”

“So how is Nick doing anyway? You two enjoying your visit?”

Hutch tried hard to make his voice sound sincere despite the fact that he couldn’t care less how Nick was doing. As much as he hated being here for this trial, he couldn’t help but have some appreciation for the fortuitous timing that spared him the ordeal of having to plaster on a smile and pretend that he found Starsky’s brother anything but obnoxious and infuriating. He wondered for the umpteenth time just how two brothers could be so diametrically opposite.

Half listening as Starsky filled him in on some of the details of Nick’s visit, Hutch tried to muster some enthusiasm for the subject. After all, Starsky had only seen Nick once since that fiasco with Stryker and was understandably excited about the opportunity to catch up.

“So where is the prodigal brother now,” Hutch wondered. “Is he there at Huggy’s with you?”

“No chance. Huggy’s is far too tame for him. He says it cramps his style. He went out looking for a place with more action.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to talk you into going with him,” Hutch groused.

“Hutch,” Starsky admonished. “Nick knows you’re the only one for me. He accepts that. He respects it.”

The idea of Nick Starsky respecting anything was so completely incongruous that Hutch couldn’t help but remark caustically, “Yeah, well don’t be surprised if you go home and find a blond piece of ass in our bed tonight and it ain’t mine…just a little gift from your loving brother.” Hutch could detect the subtle change in Starsky’s breathing pattern indicating a struggle to be patient. Unable to stop himself, however, he added, “I’ll bet he’s got all of his tacky junk, as well as the mementos of countless bimbos, strewn all over our house.”

“If he does, I’ll clean it up before you get back,” Starsky answered in a dejected tone, which pulled Hutch up short. What the hell was he doing? The fact that there was no love lost between himself and Nick was no secret to Starsky. It did hurt him a great deal, however. Hutch had promised himself he wouldn’t keep putting Starsky in the middle of that and for the most part he was good about keeping that promise. Yet here he was, wasting their first phone call in two days droning on about Nick when there were so many more important things they could be talking about.

“I’m sorry, Starsk,” Hutch stated contritely. “I don’t know where all that came from. I guess I’m just so damn frustrated about being stuck here and away from you…”

“It’s OK,” Starsky replied in a more responsive voice. “I know the feeling. I think the real reason Nick went out was to get away from me and my constant griping and sniping. I don’t do so well when you’re not around. Even my thick-headed brother has come to realize that. And Huggy…well, if you don’t get back here soon I may just get us thrown out of this place for good.”

Hutch smiled sadly, wanting more than anything to be able to put his arms around his partner at that moment. “Now don’t go doing that,” he answered. “We’d actually have to start paying for our meals if we had to eat someplace else.”

There was a quiet laugh on the other end of the line followed by a concerned question. “You been eating?”

“Yeah. I just got back from one of those long strategy dinners with the prosecutors. Man, those people can talk. Maybe if they were a little less loquacious, this thing would have been wrapped up days ago.”

Hutch heard a low groan followed by a sly voice. “Oh Hutch, you know what you do to me when you use those big words. Have I told you what I’ve been doing to your poor pillow since you’ve been gone?”

The blush that warmed Hutch’s cheeks began to spread slowly out to the rest of his body. “Don’t start, Starsk. You’re talking to a very deprived man here.”

“You! What do you think I feel like? I’ve been holding myself together by dreaming about what I was going to do to you tomorrow night. Now I don’t even have that to look forward to.”

“Sure you do. It’s just been postponed a little that’s all.” Hutch shifted as his body continued to grow warmer.

“Oh, that’s all,” Starsky mimicked in mock indignation. “No big deal huh? Maybe for you. I’ve been walking around ready to explode for days. Maybe I should have gone out with Nicky after all.”

“And maybe I should come home and disconnect all those troublesome body parts for you so you won’t have to worry about it.”

Starsky just laughed off the insincere threat. Then his voice got lower as he offered, “you want me to tell you about it, Hutch…about the dream.”

“Of course I do,” Hutch answered as he stood up to open the window near the bed. “As soon as I get home you can tell me all about it.” He sat back down on the edge of the bed and clutched the pillow to his lonely body.

“I want to tell you now,” Starsky whispered in a tone that was usually reserved for the bedroom. A tremor coursed though Hutch upon hearing the unique sound of the familiar tone filtered through a telephone for the first time.

“Starsky,” Hutch protested in surprise as he flopped down across the bed on his back. “You’re in the middle of a public place, remember?”

“So what,” Starsky’s voice shrugged. “The place is nearly empty and besides, I’m all the way at the end of the bar with my back to the room. No one can hear me.” There was a short pause and then the voice that could seduce Hutch in a heartbeat was back. “You know you want me to, Hutch. You know you want to hear all about it.”

The growing bulge between his legs responded before Hutch could even find words. It sure as hell wanted to hear all about it.

“Are you laying down, Hutch?” Starsky went on in that breathy voice. “Are you laying down in that big, lonely, empty bed wishing I was there next to you?”

“Yes,” Hutch managed to get out past the lump in his throat.

“Good. Lay back and stretch that long, luscious body of yours across that big ole bed. Get nice and comfortable because I have a story I want to tell you.”

“Starsk,” Hutch began, certain that he should stop this before it went any further. The thought of Starsky standing in the middle of Huggy’s Place with a phone receiver clutched in his hand as that sensuous mouth uttered all kinds of dirty talk in a voice meant only for his ears…actually the thought of that was pretty damn erotic. But still… “Starsky, I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“I can’t be with you, Hutch, but I can make you feel good…feel reeeeaaal good. Let me do that, Hutch. Please let me.”

Even as his mind continued to balk, Hutch found himself stretching out further across the width of the bed, still clutching the pillow to his chest as he became lulled by the voice he could listen to forever. He felt the tightness in his pants increasing at the same moment Starsky spoke again.

“You’re getting hard aren’t you? Jeez, Hutch I can feel it from here.”

Hutch wasn’t surprised. Starsky knew his body’s reactions better than he did himself. Why shouldn’t he? He controlled every damn one of them.

“Don’t touch it yet…just feel it. Don’t touch it until I tell you to.”

At that, a hot wave surged through his groin, causing it to expand fully as it pressed against the confines of his pants. “Whatever you say, Starsk,” Hutch mumbled helplessly as a chill of anticipation rocked through him.

“Close your eyes, Hutch. I want to tell you about my dream…my fantasy. You’re the star, you know.”

Hutch smiled as he closed his eyes, pressing the phone closer to his ear so he wouldn’t miss a word of the whispered narration.

“It starts when I come to pick you up at the airport. Actually, I would rather it starts right there in the airport, but I know what a prude you can be. So I squash my urge to grind hard into you and push my tongue down your throat the moment you come off the plane. Instead, I just reach over to take your suitcase and our hands touch for a brief moment…and it’s there. That bolt that ignites my body whenever it comes in contact with yours. You know that feeling, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” Hutch whispered, aware now that the same feeling could be ignited through sound as easily as touch.

“We’re in the car now. You’re sitting beside me and all I want to do is stare into that beautiful face and try to make up for all the days I had to go without seeing it. But since I’m driving, that’s not such a good idea. So instead, I slide my hand across the seat and rest it on your thigh. It’s just resting there but I can feel the heat from your body beginning to build and encase my hand in its warmth. You know how fast your body gets hot. Is it hot like that right now?”

“Yes…very hot.” Hutch reached up to stroke the hair back off his heated face. The breeze from the open window was doing little to cool him off.

“I start to move my hand back and forth across your thigh…over and over…down to your knee…back up towards your hip…along the outside of your thigh…then down along the inside where your pants are starting to dampen from the heat…I keep stroking your thigh down and up…inside and outside…stroking it again and again.”

As Hutch listened intently, he realized his own hand had been following the path of Starsky’s words. His erection was pressing uncomfortably against the confines of his pants, so he spread his legs further apart to try to relieve the pressure.

“Your right thigh falls open as the bulge in your pants starts to get real uncomfortable. You push your head back on the seat and close your eyes. And you make that…” Starsky’s voice grew quiet as the unconscious moan escaped from Hutch’s throat. When he spoke again, there was a touch of smugness there. “Yeah, that’s the sound. The one you make when you’re all excited and frustrated at the same time.”

“Starsk…” Hutch’s voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears. The pressure was becoming almost painful. He felt his hand drifting along his thigh towards the mound in his crotch.

“Not yet, Hutch,” Starsky admonished gently. “We’re gonna go real slow…just the way you like it.”

Fragments of memories flashed through Hutch’s mind; brief snippets of lovemaking sessions. A tireless Starsky keeping him on the brink for what felt like hours with his unabashed sensuality and flawless technique. David Michael Starsky was the master of seduction and he never ceased to find new ways to reduce his partner to a quivering, incoherent lump of flesh. That he was doing so now with no more than his voice and his very explicit imagination should have come as no surprise to Hutch. Yet the uniqueness of these circumstances lent an unexpectedly provocative edge to the responses Hutch was experiencing.

“You still with me, Hutch?”

A small smile curled Hutch’s lips as he managed to answer. “Where else would I be going in this condition?”

The laugh at the other end of the line had a wicked sound to it. “Good. Just the way I like you…helplessly at my mercy.”

A tremor coursed through Hutch’s body. He took a deep breath and tried to steady his rapidly increasing heart beat.

“I love the feel of your thigh under my hand,” Starsky continued suggestively. “So firm and hard and strong. And then it starts to tremble ever so slightly. I can feel the light throbbing as the blood rushes through the heated flesh. You’re so hot, Hutch. Your skin needs to breathe. I glance over towards you briefly in the car and see that hot, red flush coloring your cheeks and neck. ‘Open your shirt,’ I tell you. ‘Unbutton it nice and slow.’ Do it, Hutch. Do it…”

Leaning the receiver between his ear and shoulder, Hutch reached down to push the pillow aside and grasp his shirt buttons. His left hand continued to stroke his thigh in the direction Starsky’s hand would be traveling while his right hand shakily unfastened the remaining buttons.

“That’s it. Open them all with your unsteady fingers.”

Hutch practically tore off the last two uncooperative buttons in his haste to complete this task. As he pushed the material of the shirt to the side, a cool breeze wafted in through the window chilling the heated flesh, resulting in an outbreak of tiny goose bumps.

“Push the shirt all the way open,” Starsky continued the fantasy. “I want to be able to catch a glimpse of your left nipple with the corner of my eye while I’m driving. Mmm…jeez Hutch…you’re so gorgeous.” For the first time there was a catch in Starsky’s voice that indicated he was having some trouble breathing himself.

Hutch sucked in a deep breath which he expelled in a throaty whisper. “It’s all yours, babe. All of it.”

“Damn straight,” Starsky responded hungrily. “And I want you to touch it for me. Reach your hand up and stroke along that smooth, silky chest. Feel every inch of that creamy flesh; that soft, satin covering that stretches so tightly over all that hard muscle.”

Hutch’s hand did as it was bid. He could picture clearly Starsky’s sideways gaze burning into him. His flesh was once again on fire and no breeze from the window could cool it this time.

“Run your finger tips along the left nipple. You’re so sensitive there. I can see that little nub spring to attention the moment your finger brushes across it. Just finger it gently…nice and slow. Now roll it between your thumb and forefinger, very gently. You want to squeeze it harder but I don’t want you to. Just tease it real light. Feel the heat building there…”

As the nipple danced in his fingertips, the reaction reverberated in his groin. His back arched up off the mattress as his cock pressed demandingly against its constraints.

“Oh yeah,” Starsky moaned. “Feel it babe…that mix of torment and ecstasy. I’m sliding my hand down between your thighs…pressing it against the side of that imprisoned bulge. Jeez…you’re so hard. The material of your pants is stretched to the breaking point. It can barely contain you. I can feel the pulse from your cock pumping against my hand. It’s begging to be set free…”

“Please, Starsk…please,” Hutch pleaded as he pressed his own hand against his angry groin. The teasing sensation from his nipple coupled with the intoxicating sound of Starsky’s voice had rendered him both weak and impassioned. His head was spinning as he writhed against the damp sheets.

“Pinch the nipple harder now…twist it roughly while I cup your groin with my hand and feel it respond…”

“Starsk!” Hutch cried out as the pleasure/pain ripped through him.

“Easy,” Starsky soothed. “You’re going to get what you need.”

“I need you,” Hutch whispered.

“And I’m right here with you. Keep your eyes closed tight. Feel me here with you, Hutch. Hear my voice. Listen to the sound of my breathing. Feel my hand working the buckle of your belt. My fingers undoing the top button of your pants. Feel them slip up to ease down your zipper…ease it down slowly…carefully. Don’t want to damage the precious jewels in there. No, I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. I wanna make you feel real good.”

The sound of Starsky’s voice was enthralling. Hutch could actually feel his touch against his pants…feel those nimble fingers drawing down his zipper…working at his pants while his eager cock strained to meet them…begged to be touched by them.

“I’m slipping my hand inside those pants now. Slipping down to find the prize that’s waiting inside there. I’m ready to claim it…to possess it. Feel my fingers brush against your hard, damp, eager flesh. Feel it respond as I wrap my hand around it…as I grasp it tightly and pull it free from its prison.”

A jagged cry emitted from deep within Hutch’s throat as his erection was finally pulled free from the strangling, suffocation of his pants. The uninhibited sound seemed to please his partner, whose voice took on a self satisfied tone.

“Mmm…that’s it. You like that, don’t you. Slumped down weakly in the seat beside me; still working that nipple while my hand takes control of your long neglected cock…as I grasp it firmly and give it a long awaited stroke. Your back arches off the seat and you let out a hungry moan…so responsive…so needy. Jeez, it’s a good thing we’re almost home because it’s getting difficult to concentrate on driving with you humping in my hand like that.”

Fully caught up in the fantasy, Hutch could see the image clearly as well. Starsky’s hand wrapped around his turgid flesh, stroking him right out in the open of the front seat of the car while Hutch writhed helplessly under his spell. It felt so good to finally have that hand on him that Hutch didn’t care about the surroundings…didn’t care about anything but the sound of his partner’s voice and the feel of his too long denied touch.

“Lucky for you the roads leading to our house are pretty deserted tonight; not that you care, though. Look at you…Mr. Self Conscious…Mr. No Displays of Public Affection…pumping yourself in my hand with no regard for anything. You haven’t even opened your eyes to see if anyone is around. So hungry for my touch that you don’t give a damn about anything else. That’s the way I dreamed it, Hutch…but don’t worry, I’ll protect your virtue.” There was a definite grin in his voice. “I’ll take the less lit route home…make sure not to pull up right beside anyone at the lights.”

Hutch managed a small laugh. “I don’t care, Starsk. Just take me home. I’ve missed you so much.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Once again it sounded like there was a silent struggle to get a solid breath. Then, the treasured voice was back.

“I’ve missed you too, Hutch. So much…” Another pause before the voice seemed able to speak again. “We’re pulling up into the driveway now. You’re home, babe. Home where you belong. I left all the outside lights off so the driveway is pitch black when I cut the headlights. You’re still kind of dazed and out of it. I don’t think you realize where you are yet. I jump out of the car quickly, before you can get your bearings. I come around to your side and open the door…I pull you out before you have a chance to protest…before you can tuck anything back in…”

“Starsky…” Hutch murmured helplessly as his cock swelled thicker at the images in his mind.

“I push your back against the car as the cool air rushes over your heated flesh. I rub my hand across your chest and feel the goosebumps erupting. The chilled breeze blows across your exposed cock causing your whole body to shudder. I move closer to you and wrap my warm hand around your cock, which is growing even harder from the excitement of being naked in the dark, night air. I slide my other hand up from your chest…to your neck…your face…up into your hair where I twine my fingers around those silky tresses. I bend your head back as I lean in closer still. Your cock surges in my hand as I hold it prisoner between us. And finally I get to do what I’ve needed to do all night…all week…all my life…”

Hutch’s entire body was shaking as the vivid images danced behind his eyelids. He was hanging on Starsky’s every word…heart pounding hard against his chest as he struggled to keep breathing. He ran his tongue along his lips, moistening his mouth in preparation for what he knew was coming.

“I need to kiss you, Hutch. I need to kiss you so bad. I press my mouth hard against yours. I cover your trembling lips with mine. I want to devour you. I push my tongue deep inside you and you open to me with that eager moan.”

Hutch’s mouth tingled as he felt the kiss ignite his entire body. The taste and feel of Starsky’s lips were branded so strongly in his mind that he could call up the sensations with pinpoint accuracy: teeth scratching against his lips as they were consumed; the insistent tongue plunging into him, ravishing every inch of his heated mouth; air being sucked from inside of him until his head dizzied and his lungs quavered. Blood rushed to the tips of his limbs, steadily building pressure that he was sure would cause him to explode at any moment. Only when he was on the edge of blacking out, would Starsky’s demanding mouth release him, lips curling in that cocky smile while the blue eyes bore into him in liquid rapture.

“For the briefest moment,” Starsky purred into the phone, “I toy with the idea of pushing you down on the ground and taking you right there, and you wouldn’t even complain. Your whole body is shaking so hard you would fall to the ground on your own if I wasn’t holding you upright.”

It was true. Hutch was shaking all over, breath coming in uneven gasps as his cock twitched eagerly.

“But I take mercy on you and lead you to the house instead. I keep my hand wrapped around your throbbing cock as you lean into me for support. I steal a few more brief kisses from that willing mouth as we stagger to the door in the darkness.”

The darkness enveloped Hutch as he lay on the sweat soaked sheets. The dim twilight that had been illuminating the room when he first entered it was gone now, replaced by the darkness of evening. The faint glow from the street lamps beyond the window cast only meager light across the quiet room. Hutch was oblivious to it, however, eyes tightly shut as his mind transported him across the miles to the doorstep of his home.

“It takes a couple of tries but somehow I manage to get the key in the lock and we stumble inside, barely staying upright. I close the door then and lock it…” Starsky’s voice drew quieter, the increased emotion causing it to waver slightly. “Lock away the outside world and all the barriers that have kept us apart. You’re home now, Hutch. It’s just you and me…nothing between us. You’re all mine here, Hutch…here in our home where you belong.”

There was a catch in Starsky’s voice…a dull, lonely ache that bit into Hutch’s heart. He reached out with his own voice to try to soothe the ache that seemed poised to shatter.

“That’s right, babe. I’m right there with you, like I always am. You can feel me with you, can’t you? I know you can.”

“Ah, Hutch…”

Hutch could feel Starsky’s essence reach out to him through his voice and they connected together in a place that had no words or shape or substance. With that connection tightly held, the choking loneliness started to ease. Hutch could feel the tension ebb through Starsky’s sigh. With a smile, he prodded his partner back from the precipice.

“So now you’ve got me where you want me, hotshot. What are you going to do about it? You’ve been playing with fire all the way from the airport. Was that just bravado or you got something to back it up with?”

“Oh, I’ll show you something alright,” Starsky growled, fired by the challenge. “You think I’m just going to leave you standing there, all shaking and hard, your clothes open and sliding down around you?” Starsky questioned, fully back into the fantasy. “No way. You’re mine now, baby blue.”

Hutch gasped at the raw intensity in the voice. His cock surged upward as pre-cum leaked through his heated slit and dampened the head of his engorged organ.

“I’m going to tear that jacket and shirt right down your arms,” Starsky promised. “Lucky for you it’s all unbuttoned or there’d be loose buttons and ripped material scattered across the carpet.” A lusty moan escaped between the words. “Shit, you’re gorgeous, Hutch. I grab your arms and push your bare back against the door, pinning you there while I run my hands and mouth all over your neck…your arms…your chest…your stomach. I need to feel all of you…to taste what I’ve been missing for too long. I want to bite and suck every fucking inch of you. I want to leave my mark all over that creamy, white flesh of yours.”

Every nerve ending in Hutch’s flesh was alive, squirming with the intimate knowledge of what it felt like to be worked over by those hands…that mouth.

“You know what I want next, don’t you?” Starsky’s voice was coarse and low. Hutch could only manage an incoherent whimper, for indeed he did know. His body arched in anticipation.

“I want to yank those pants the rest of the way down your legs until they’re tangled around your ankles. Then I’m going to dig my fingers into your hips to hold you still while I take that juicy cock of yours into my mouth. I want to take it fast and deep…to overwhelm you with my hunger for you. I want your head to spin and your knees to buckle as you slide deep into my thirsty throat. I wanna suck you so hard, Hutch…pull you deep inside of me…”

Hutch groaned in a fevered haze, nearly coming undone from the passion of Starsky’s voice…the graphic imagery being detailed…the responsiveness of his body. His balls were drawn up tight and throbbing while his cock surged, almost of his own accord, in his hand.

“You wanna come, Hutch.” Starsky’s voice was unsteady now, but still determined. “I know you do. You want to come so bad…you need to come so bad…but not yet, Hutch. Hold on lover.”

Hutch wasn’t sure he could. It was like trying to stop a locomotive with a feather. Yet somehow, from within his haze, he struggled to summon his willpower…and it took every ounce of it to steady the motion of his hand. Even with that, he was uncertain that it wasn’t too late to stem the rising tide. His hoarse, fractured voice managed to produce a single syllable, “Starsk…”

“I know, babe. I know how hard you are,” Starsky soothed in a voice that did little to dampen the burning flames blazing inside Hutch. “That’s how I want you,” he continued. “Hard and tight and full. That’s how I want you when I enter you…when I pull my mouth from your swollen cock and lead your trembling body to the middle of the room…when I pull you down to your knees beside the ottoman…when I bend you over it face down on your stomach.

A strangled grunt caught in Hutch’s throat as he nearly lost all control. But he took a deep breath and fought to steady himself. Starsky was determined to finish this out his way and Hutch refused to be denied a single second of the fantasy.

“I left the K-Y on the end table,” Starsky was saying. “I knew we were never gonna make it up to the bedroom…at least not the first time.” There was a pause then and Hutch could hear his partner’s ragged breathing. For a brief moment, he even thought he heard the pounding of Starsky’s heart.

“I wanna do you slow, Hutch. I wanna savor it. But I don’t think I can. I need to be inside of you so bad.”

“It’s OK,” Hutch whispered, feeling the need as clearly as if Starsky had been there beside him. In his mind’s eye, he saw them; himself…on his knees, his chest sprawled across the dark blue cushion of the ottoman, clutching tightly to its sides as he tried desperately to wait patiently for his lover, his angry cock pulsing between his legs. Starsky…up on his knees behind him, fumbling to get his pants down over his own massive bulge, looking down at his target with lust-filled eyes. Hutch handled himself roughly, squeezing hard at the base of his cock to stave off the inevitable for a few more glorious minutes. Regretfully, he realized he missed part of what Starsky had been saying while he was lost in his fantasy image. But he was relieved to find that the best was still to come.

“I push my cock hard against your entrance,” Starsky was saying in a voice that shook with desire. “I wanna feel you open up for me…let me in.”

“Yes, yes.” Hutch was murmuring breathlessly.

“I’m gonna slip inside those tight, hot walls. I try to push in slow but you start pushing back to meet me. You can’t wait either.”

No, he couldn’t wait…not another minute. Hutch grasped his screaming cock firmly and began to work it in a fierce frenzy.

Starsky’s voice was tremulous now…a raw whisper amidst heavy pants. “Oh yeah, Hutch…I’m all the way inside of you…you’re all around me…I need to move…I need to move hard inside you…I gotta give you everything…I need to pump you full, babe…I wanna hear you scream…scream for me, Hutch.”

Hutch was screaming…throaty cries that echoed against the walls of the quiet room. “Starsk!…oh god, Starsky…I love you…I need you…I’m gonna come…you’re gonna make me come!”

“Yes, Hutch…oh yeah…I love you too, babe…I need to feel it…I need to feel those walls tighten around me…to feel the…” The heated litany suddenly stopped, cut off abruptly by a choked, muffled sound. It was a sound that Hutch recognized immediately…and it was that sound that proved to be his undoing. Hutch’s neck bent back as a loud wail scorched the tissues of his throat. He jerked up reflexively as his body began to spasm. He lost focus then, caught in a whirlwind of relief…release…redemption.

Dimly, as though from some other place, he could hear his own screams…feel the shower of hot cream as it spewed endlessly over his hand, the bed, his pants, his shirt sleeves. And then, for a short time, there was nothingness…just a comforting lull as his limbs melted into liquid and flowed in soothing waves.

Awareness began to return with the sound of familiar voices through the telephone that lay beside his ear. He lifted his hand up to grasp the receiver and bring it closer as he focused on listening better. Starsky’s voice sounded strained…tight…as though trying to cover something. Embarrassment? Huggy’s voice sounded farther away, tinged with mild irritation.

“Huggy, just bring me the damn jacket,” Starsky was calling through clenched teeth.

“I still don’t see why you couldn’t just go over and get your own damn jacket,” Huggy responded. His voice was getting nearer to the phone as he continued to complain. “I mean what do I look like? Some type of butler? It’s bad enough I gotta put up with all kinds of…” The voice paused, and when it returned, Hutch could tell Huggy was right beside the phone. “Jesus, Starsky! What the hell is all over your pants?”

Hutch couldn’t suppress the grin that was breaking out across his face. It was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud.

“Just give me the damn jacket will ya,” Starsky mumbled impatiently. Hutch could almost feel the hot blush color his partner’s cheeks.

“Here, take it. Cover yourself up,” Huggy replied with mock disgust. “Hurry up before somebody sees you. Just what the hell kind of place do you think I’m running here anyway? I don’t need this kind of thing to get out. Can you imagine the kind of characters I’d have slinking in here…man!”

“Huggy,” Starsky growled, trying to cover his embarrassment with hostility. Hutch could hear the amusement behind Huggy’s chiding, but was certain his chagrined partner didn’t view it as a laughing matter.

“And as for you, blondie,” Huggy called into the receiver, “don’t you go callin’ here anymore. This ain’t ‘Huggy’s House of Phone Sex,’ you know. Unless you want me to start charging you for the service?”

Hutch lost it then. He rolled over on his side, his own sticky clothes serving as an indication of his partner’s predicament, and became wracked with laughter.

Starsky did not appreciate the outburst. “What are you laughing at?” he barked into the phone.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Hutch managed to get out between snickers. “This was your idea, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” Starsky hedged, “my idea was to get you off. I didn’t think my body was going to react like some pre-pubescent kid’s.” His voice grew lower and more befuddled. “Jeez, Hutch, this ain’t happened to me since High School.”

“Well then I’m flattered,” Hutch smiled, his voice filled with affection.

That seemed to mollify his partner, who took a relaxed breath and then laughed briefly himself. But then the bark was back in full force. “Huggy, will you get out of here! This is a private conversation!”

“Oh, certainly. No problem. I mean, it’s not like I own the place or nothing. I’ll just make myself scarce. I think I’ll go get some cleaning stuff together so I can hose down that phone when you’re finished.”

Hutch was laughing again as he brushed a finger up to wipe the moisture that was welling in his eyes. Huggy was going to have fun with this one for a long time to come.

“Stop laughing at me,” Starsky grumbled. “I feel stupid enough as it is.”

“I don’t see why you should feel stupid,” Hutch said, forcing his voice to get serious.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one standing here in public with…”

“With the same thing I’ve got stuck all over me,” Hutch interjected, his voice growing husky. “I’m lying here with cum all over me…all over my damn court suit pants. That’ll be a good one to explain to the Cleaners tomorrow. But I don’t give a damn, Starsk, because what we just did…. Mmm, man, that was incredible. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Starsky replied in a voice that had lost its discomfort and was now open and tender.

“Thanks for taking some of the loneliness away,” Hutch whispered, feeling his emotions welling inside him. “I love you. And I love the thought of you standing there in your cum-soaked pants…I love knowing that your thoughts of being with me were so powerful that you didn’t even need to touch yourself to…”

“Uh, Hutch,” Starsky interrupted in a voice that was unsteady. Hutch felt the stirrings in his own body as the image continued to dance through his mind. “I think I better go home and call you back before we continue this conversation.”

“I think you’re right,” Hutch smiled, feeling the heat in his partner’s body rising thorough the phone line. His own body was reviving pretty quickly as well. “I mean we wouldn’t want to give Huggy’s place a bad name, right?” he joked, trying to move to safer ground.

“He’s coming this way with a big can of Lysol,” his partner chuckled. “I’d better get out of here.”

“OK, call me as soon as you get home. And Starsk…” Hutch’s voice grew low, “while you’re on your way there, see if you can remember another one of those fantasy/dreams of yours to tell me about.”

The sound that came from deep in Starsky’s throat was part laugh and part growl. “I’ll do my best. But if I give em’ all away to you on the phone, what am I gonna have left when you get home?”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Hutch purred as he stretched out languidly across the bed. “I have complete faith in you, lover. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.