Competition

“Starsk, I don’t like that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“You’re thinking, probably some weird question, like, ‘If ants could talk, could they speak pig Latin?'”

“That’s a good question, Hutch. We can talk about that some other time, ‘cause I got somethin’ more important.”

“Anything is more important than talking ants.”

“This is. Ya know how we’re always sayin’ each other’s names when we’re bumpin’ boots?”

“Yeah, so?”

“What if we count how many times we call each other’s names and whoever wins gets to choose where we do it next?”

“Let me get this straight, mushbrain. You want to turn our lovemaking into some sort of… game?”

“Yeah, sorta.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, yeah, there’s a winner of sorts, braggin’ rights kinda thing, but in tha end, it’s a win for both-a us.”

“When you put it that way, I can definitely see that. Okay, how do we count the names?  Invite Edith and the captain over while we fuck or rub off or -”

“We can’t exactly be suckin’, now can we?”

“We can’t exactly have anyone over here to count, now can we, Starsky?”

“Oh, yeah. Hadn’t thought that far.”

“I’m ruling out us doing the counting. You’d probably cheat.”

“Hey! I don’t cheat. Much. And then only when I wanna win.”

“Which is every time we compete in anything.”

“Now, Blintz, don’t go callin’ the kettle black. How about we borrow a tape recorder from the station?”

“Why not just go for a camera?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea! Maybe you are the brains of this outfit, Hutch!”

“When am I gonna learn to keep my big mouth shut.”

“Not right now, big guy.  Open up that gorgeous trap of yours and suck me dry. All this talk is, uh, aphrodaisical.”

“Aphrodisiacal. Since you put it that way…”

 

Rub a Nub

“Oh, God, Starsk, I love kissing you.”

“Me, too. Hey, got an idea.”

“Better be about this and not the case we’re working on.”

“How’s about we 69 with a little nub-rubbin’ and the first one to -”

“Hold on there, cowpoke. Is this another game you’re proposing?”

“Aw, Hutch, I wish you wouldn’t see it like that. It’s just a way to make it a little more interestin’.  Like sprinkles on an ice cream cone.”

“Way to choose a metaphor, Starsk. Go on.”

“Before I was rudely interrupted, I was about to say that the first one to get off has to go out for Chinese take-out.”

“That’s not fair! You almost always hold out longer than me.”

“I can’t help it if I got sexual discipline.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Starsk. The only discipline you have getting to the table before anyone else.”

“So I got speed where it counts, too, pokey. Whaddya say?”

“I wanna add a rule. No deep-throating me. You know that gets me every time. And one more thing. We keep the same rhythm with the nub-rubbing.”

“Okay, okay, just get that damn finger outta my face! It’s got somewhere better to be, ‘kay, lover?”

“Your wish is my pleasure, Aladdin. Let’s get to rubbing our lamps.”

 

Train Spotting

“I can’t believe it! You landed on Boardwalk first again, Hutch! I can’t play this game for crap.”

“Maybe you’ve never had the right incentive.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Maybe you need something more.”

“Hmm.  I think I know where you’re goin’ with this.”

“How about this.  You love trains.  If you have three or four of the railroads by the end of the game, even if you’re bankrupt, which you will be, you win a… consolation prize.”

“I know! I know! A fuck’n’suck! If I have the most railroads, I get to choose giver and givee. If you have the most, you decide.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I’m getting all aboard with this sex gaming you’ve started.”

“Hey, careful with those terrible puns, but not with my buns, if you get my drift. Now, time to make tracks, lover boy, and rock’n roll.”

 

Blowing a Popsicle Stand

“Geez, it’s hot! The air conditioner is worthless. Even the cards’re sweatin’. And what fun is strip poker when we had to start just boxers and briefs away from bein’ in our birthday suits.”

“I keep tellin’ you, Starsky, you need to move to a new place. Your landlord is a cheapskate.”

“True, but I don’ wanna move now and then again when we find us a place, Hutch.”

“Chill, gorgeous. We’ll find something we can afford. Eventually.”

“Hey, you just gave me an idea.”

“Is this something one or both of us will regret?”

“Just shaddup and pick a card.  High card wins.”

“Wins what?”

“A trip to Chill-ville.  So pick already.”

“Okay. … Ten of Hearts.”

“Jack of Hearts. I win!”

“What do you… Hey, where’re you going? … A Popsicle?  For you or me?”

“Both … Mmm, it’s so good.”

“Oh, God, Starsk! That feels… wonderful! Can’t believe I’m getting hard!”

^^^^^^

“That was unbelievable.”

“You like gettin’ a chilly willy, do ya?”

“Oh, yeah. But I drew the low card. You should’ve gotten the BJ.”

“When are you gonna get it through that gold dome of yours that we both win when we play these games, baby blue?”

“David Starsky, I love you.”

“Love you more, Kenneth Hutchinson.”

“Are you turning this into a competition, too?”

“If it gets me more lovin’, absolutely.”

 

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