Fantasy Shots

This PWP was written in 2001 as an alternate ending to episode 13 of the Starsky and Hutch Slash Virtual Season.

The look on his partner’s face as he made his request really was priceless. Starsky sat up a little straighter, raised the camera and snapped three quick shots. “See? Easy. I just got that beautiful face of yours looking all shy and hot. Pull your shirttail out of your jeans.”

Starsky smiled a little at the mesmerized look on Hutch’s face, knowing he was responding to Starsky’s commanding tone. He watched while Hutch took a sip of wine and set the glass down. Slowly, he pulled his shirt free from his pants. The music was low and sexy, and his partner was beautiful.

Click.

“This is really crazy, Starsk,” Hutch spoke while fingering his shirttail. “Don’t you think this is crazy?”

“I think it’s hot. I think it’s gonna get even hotter when you start unbuttoning your shirt.”

Hutch gulped once, almost audibly, but he went to the top button of his shirt and unfastened it. His eyes locked on Starsky’s. “Okay. Okay, take your shots, but I undo a button, and you undo a button.” Hutch’s hand lingered over his second button as Starsky clicked again. “I mean it. I’ll give you a show but I want something in return.”
Starsky moved the camera strap slightly in order to unfasten one of his own buttons. A tiny smattering of dark hair peered through the opening. “Now you. Kick your shoes off and give me a few more buttons.”

Hutch did as he was told. He toed his loafers off one at a time and kicked them across the room. Starsky saw his embarrassment fading as his desire climbed. Hutch turned around and bent low to remove his socks, taking sweet, lazy time to do it. Starsky felt his breaths coming faster. “Turn around, Hutch.” He readied his camera.
When Hutch turned around he was smiling and then he licked his lips wetly. Got him. Hutch undid four more buttons.

Click.

“Open it,” Starsky hissed. “Undo the last of them and spread your shirt open.”

“You’re lagging behind, partner,” Hutch whispered as he complied. “Come on, catch up.”

Starsky got a few more buttons undone at the same time that Hutch’s shirt was completely unfastened. He raised his camera. “Pull it open, let me see all that smooth chest.”
Hutch’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he pulled the material wide, revealing nipples that were raised and taut.

“Touch them,” Starsky whispered. “Run your hands all over them. See if you can get them as hard as I can.”
Hutch ran his palms over the hard protrusions again and again, his eyes never leaving Starsky’s face. “I like it better when you do it.”

Click.

“Pinch them. Come on, two fingers…pinch them.” Hutch moaned a little and Starsky could feel his pleasure as if it was his own. “More, Hutch, do it more.”

“Starsk… oh, man.”

“Feels good, don’t it? Makes you want my hands all over you, right?”

“You know it does. Makes me want to touch you more, though. Get my fingers all tangled up in that hair…then I’d start sucking.”

Starsky could feel the pulse in his cock throb, almost as if it were keeping time to the beat of the music and not the beat of his pulse. “Love it when you do that. When you make your mouth so wet and you suck me…not just my nipples, ya know. All of me.”

Hutch ran his tongue around his lips again before he answered. “I could come over there right now. You’ve already got your legs spread.” A pointed stare followed the words, as Hutch gazed hungrily at Starsky’s crotch. “You want me, too. You want me to come over there and get on my knees. Take your zipper down. Reach my hand inside…oh, yeah. I wanna come over there right now.”

“Nuh-uh,” Starsky whispered, raising the camera again. “I want my show. Come on, take your shirt all the way off.”

Hutch did it slowly. One sleeve first, before he caught the cuff of the other in his teeth and pulled the garment completely off. He stood very still, legs slightly apart, and hooked both thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, pulling them tight against his groin. The bulge was prominent, the head of his cock clearly outlined.

Click.

“Oh, God,” Starsky moaned. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. And you’re all mine.”

Hutch smiled and nodded, removing his hands from his jeans and stroking his chest again. “All yours. And you’re all mine, babe. Every last beautiful inch of you.” He rocked his hips seductively and arched his neck. “Now you. Lose the shirt.”

Still sitting, Starsky removed the camera from his neck and placed it on his lap. Then he finished unfastening his shirt, his eyes never leaving his partner’s face. He found his wine glass and lifted it to his lips, taking a sip. He smiled a little before dipping two fingers in the glass and holding them up for inspection. The golden droplets started to run as he rubbed them into each nipple, one at a time. “See, Hutch? I’m gonna make ’em taste real good for you tonight.” He leered at Hutch, enjoying the expression on his flushed face, and raised the camera back up. “You like that idea? Wanna suck the wine right off me, don’t you?”

Click.

“Yes. I wanna pour the whole bottle over all my favorite places and suck it all off you. I wanna get drunk on you. I am drunk on you. I love you.”

“I know. Love you back, and now I want to see that zipper of yours come down. Real, real slow.”

“You want to see what I’ve got for you? All for you?” Hutch complied with the request. He lowered his own head as if he, too, wanted to see what was under the zipper. Once he was done, he let his hands drop to his sides, his cock quickly jutting the thin fabric of his briefs to poke through the opened fly.

Starsky wiggled on the couch, finding it very hard to stay seated when his body was on fire. “Shimmy them off, Hutch. Move your ass until your pants slide down your legs.”

“Not until you take your zipper down. Come on, lean back against the couch and lower it.”

Starsky complied, grateful for the room needed to keep his engorged penis from bursting through the metal teeth. “You’ve got me so hard. Oh, man, can’t believe it. What you do to me.”

“I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“Hear that music? I can feel it,” Starsky whispered. “Feel it like it’s playing inside my head. Shimmy your pants off to the music, Hutch.”
Hutch used his hands to lower the jeans just a little down his hips; the swaying motion of his ass and legs worked with gravity to pool the jeans at his feet.

Click.

He posed now. Starsky wanted to enfold his partner in his arms when he realized how into the game Hutch was. He wasn’t standing anymore; he was posing. Provocatively. Sexily. Posturing for both the camera and for him. His heart swelled. His cock throbbed.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah, Starsk? This what you wanted to see? Me getting all naked for you?”

“God, yes.”

“It’s what I want from you, too.” Hutch smiled lasciviously. “On your feet. Get those pants off.”

Starsky slipped the camera back around his neck before he slowly rose. Unlike his partner before him, he removed his own jeans quickly. “I wore underwear today,” he announced unnecessarily.

“I can see that,” Hutch said. “Take them off.”

“Oh, no, gorgeous. You first. I’ve got some pictures to take.”

Hutch nodded and started to remove his briefs.

Click.

When Hutch was completely nude, he placed his hands on his hips. His full cock rested against his lower belly. “Now what Mr. Photographer?”

“Touch it.” Starsky’s words were a breathy command. “Take it in your palm. Rub your balls with your other hand.”

“Oh, God,” Hutch moaned, stroking his cock. “Oh, God, babe. Need you.” He spread his legs a little wider and rubbed his balls hard. “Need you, Starsk.”

“Soon. Real, real soon.”

Click.

“Now. I need you. Come here. Let me touch you. Let me take your underwear off myself and touch you.”

“Turn around for me first.”

Hutch groaned, but he released his swollen cock and did as he was asked. His ass cheeks clenched, then released.

“Can you reach your hands behind you, Hutch? Can you rub all over that smooth skin on that butt of yours? Feel what I’m gonna be feeling in just a minute.”
Hutch moved both hands to his backside and stroked it. When he slipped his fingers between the division Starsky groaned and tried to keep focused.

Click.

“Damn it, Starsky! Now! Now!”

Starsky removed the camera and then his underwear in one swift motion. He hurried to his partner, pressing his warm body tight against him. “I think I got some great shots.” Starsky backed up a little and took his cock in hand, rubbing it hard up and down the deep separation.

“Starsk…babe…wait. Not that; not now, okay? Later for that. In bed?” Hutch turned around as he spoke.

“Let’s go to bed now, then,” Starsky whispered, before finally kissing his partner deeply. Starsky commanded the kiss and Hutch gave him no resistance, opening his mouth wide to accept his seeking tongue. Hutch was running his hands all over Starsky’s back and ass and Starsky growled into the kiss, then felt robbed when Hutch broke the suction. “What…?”

“Or we could do this first,” Hutch said. ”Right here and now.” Hutch eliminated any room between their bodies and started to rock. “We can do our own dance right here. I’m so hot for you.”

Starsky gasped as he felt the sharp protrusion rubbing against his upper pubic region. “Okay, okay. We’ll dance. Bend your knees a little, Blondie. Got to get us all lined up.” When Hutch had lowered his body slightly, Starsky grabbed his own cock and pressed it against his partner’s. “Now. Dance with me.”

Both men took hold of each other’s asses as they rocked in time with their heartbeats, the music roaring and fading, their breaths coming faster and faster. Starsky pressed his forehead tightly against Hutch’s. “Look at us, humping like seventeen-year-olds,” Starsky panted out, then he bit his lip before speaking again. “I’m close. I’m real close.”

Hutch was panting, too. “I feel like I’m going to explode from the inside out. You’re shattering me.” Starsky felt Hutch’s fingers dig deeper into his rear.

“Yes! Ohhhhh…” Hutch’s knees sank a little lower and he jetted against Starsky. “Sweet… so, sweet.” He panted softly for a few seconds before moving back a little. “Let me finish it, let me take care of you,” Hutch murmured, grasping Starsky hard, pumping him so fine.

Starsky moved his hands from Hutch’s ass to his shoulders, trying to balance them both. “Tighter, Hutch, harder… God, yes. There, babe, there.” The frantic pumping quickened as Hutch tightened his hand, allowing just enough room for the slick flesh to slide through. “Oh, yeah. oh, yeah…” Starsky groaned as his essence shot from him.

Neither spoke for a few seconds. Starsky was trying to catch his breath and knew Hutch was doing the same. He tried his voice out. “Okay, now can we go to bed? My body could use a horizontal position right about now.”

“It could use a shower more.” Hutch laughed, the sound its own kind of music. “We’re kind of sticky and sweaty now. How about if we grab the wine, shower, and then slip unto bed all nice and clean.”

“You trying to pace us?” Starsky asked, grinning.

“Uh-huh. We’ve got all night and all day tomorrow. You may have forgotten but I haven’t.”

“Forgotten what?” Starsky questioned teasingly.

“That tomorrow’s our day off, and we’re not getting out of bed all day.” Hutch broke free and started toward the bedroom at a lazy pace.

Starsky turned the stereo off and grabbed the bottle of wine. He was halfway to the bedroom before he turned back and picked up his camera as well. He was humming a little as he shut the bedroom door.