Sofa City

Just a “relaxing” snippet.

Originally published in the SHareCon 2014 zine.

Starsky laid his head back on Hutch’s shoulder as the stereo cranked out his new favorite Frampton tune. “Hmmm, baby I love your way, every day …” Their hands on top of each others, fingers intertwined, neither could think of a better way to lose themselves in the music than relaxing on the couch, Starsky laying his back to Hutch’s front. As Hutch sang softly in his partner’s ear, Starsky snuggled backwards and wrapped their arms around his middle.

At the song’s end, Starsky turned over and kissed his love deeply. Softly pulling his fingers free, he slipped his hands around Hutch’s head, down his neck and they met in the middle, undoing buttons as they continued the journey downward. Hutch groaned into the kiss, slipping his hands around to massage his lover’s ample cheeks and rub their members together. Starsky broke the kiss by sucking his way down Hutch’s chin and then licking his way down his neck. Fastening on the soft join between shoulder and neck, he started the beginnings of a deep passion mark that would most likely be hidden by Hutch’s collar, except when Starsky pulled it away to embarrass his partner whenever possible.

Hutch didn’t care. He’d let Starsky put a mark on his nose if it kept him happy and together with him. “Bed. Now,” he said to the air as Starsky continued to work.

“Nope. Gonna do you here,” Starsky murmured into the top of Hutch’s chest. Then he moved so quickly Hutch thought it might have been a dream. Starsky jumped off his partner, undoing his jeans and belt, reaching in and pulling out his cock while at the same time he chewed on a pert nipple. In a heartbeat, he moved down and swallowed Hutch completely down. “GOD! Oh babe! That throat!” Starsky had recently completed his goal to deep throat his partner, no small feat, and it drove Hutch wild. No woman could ever hold him in her throat, while Starsky could and when he hummed, the vibrations alone could make Hutch come screaming to the ceiling. He grabbed the curls and hung on, moving and riding the motion Starsky was providing.

It didn’t take long. A quivering lump on the sofa, Hutch felt Starsky release him, then pull his jeans off. Rolling Hutch over, Starsky started rimming his partner quickly and forcefully. Hutch’s sensitive cock was rubbing the fabric of Starsky’s sofa, his legs spread, one falling off the sofa. Starsky’s hand reached around and played with equally sensitive nipples, making Hutch writhe, moan and struggle to get his chest away from the sweet torment. Starsky let him raise his chest up, then grabbed Hutch’s cock, while driving his tongue deep inside the sensitive center. “Oh, oh, oh, ooooh … dear GOD! How do you do THAT?!” he shouted.

Starsky pulled away and grabbed the lotion they kept in the coffee table drawer. A healthy squirt coated Starsky’s cock. He stroked Hutch’s thighs, kissed the soft mounds, then drove himself deep in one thrust, hitting the prostate over and over.

Hutch was overcome. Starsky was the most intense lover he had ever known. Hadn’t he just come moments ago? Now his prostate was sending electric shocks up and down his legs, firming the recovering cock with each hit. He couldn’t even form words as his reignited cock rode the sofa, Starsky rode his ass and his hands grabbed for purchase on the sofa back and coffee table. Starsky’s thrusts changed rhythm, faster, faster, faster, then both hands grabbed Hutch’s hip bones and he screamed his orgasm into Hutch’s back with a final thrust. Hutch bounced himself once, twice and with a small “oh” oozed a small trickle, balls emptied.

They laid there a couple moments, then Starsky got up. He returned with two warm washcloths, wrapping one around Hutch’s cock and placing the other against his center as he rolled him to his back again. Tucking Hutch inside as he pulled up the boxers, he set the blond’s jeans and boots aside. He then took the afghan off the chair, covered Hutch, put his head on a small pillow and kissed him sweetly. “You are the most amazing lover I have ever known,” he whispered to his blond. “No one ever gets me that fuckin’ hot and you can do it just layin’ on the couch. Love you like crazy, babe.” The soft words brushed Hutch’s cheek as he smiled softly. “Love you so much, David,” he whispered back, falling into a doze.

His precious man asleep, Starsky grabbed the jeans and boots, then set about picking up every piece of clothing, mail, dish, and junk Hutch had dropped around the apartment that morning and when they came home. “But you are such a SLOB!” he muttered.