Just Supposing – Part Four

By Nicola Ditty aka britwizz

PSR: Sequel to “Just Supposing – Part Three”. Climactic events.

Disclaimer:   Starsky & Hutch are not mine.  If they were, do you think for one second I’d want to share them?

Warning:    For mature audiences. THIS IS SLASH. Consider yourself warned!

Comments and feedback welcome. Share your thoughts with me at britwizz@msn.com

Individual title definitions hyperlinked to www.thefreedictionary.com

 

NOTE…MY PROFUSE APOLOGIES IF PAST COMMENTS WENT UNANSWERED…

I HAD BLOCKS IN MSN OF WHICH I WAS UNAWARE BUT THEY ARE NOW FIXED!

 

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~ For EH and RC ~

For putting up with an awful lot of crap from me!

hghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghgh

 

”True love stories never have endings” ~ Richard Bach

 

 

 

 

31. Egence

He breaks the kiss, his hands drifting, his eyes still holding me.

I think I’m supposed to say something here. Something meaningful. Something like, “I love you.” But I can’t get past how he looks right now, with his stained pants and freshly fucked hair… Then he slicks his lips and it looks so…wanton.

I know I’ll say it all wrong, jumbled words spilling everywhere like soup, killing this moment. So I say, “Any chance you’ll be wanting to do that again sometime soon?”

That’s close enough to what I wanted to say, and what he needs to hear.

 

 

 

32. Tropism

Instead of pushing me away, he draws me close. And, God, how I’m drawn to him - the proverbial moth, featherweight and unsubstantial, and if I don’t wrap my arms around him, I’ll fly away like ashes in a breeze.

His tongue is welcome in my mouth, making its careful circuit as if to wash away the aftertaste. He should know by now that some things are indelible. Permanently etched like a tattoo. Like scars…

And scars, to me, are nothing more than proof of perpetuity.

He’s got a lot to learn…I suppose it’s only fair that I teach him.

 

 

 

33. Crucible 

Blame it on the long, dry season, but it’s hot in here. Hotter still where he drapes over me - crummy mattress but a great blanket.

He shifts just a little and that’s all it takes to get me hard again, like steel.

He blushes, almost shy. And way too polite, too nice all of a sudden. This isn’t gonna cut it…

Like a thief I dip my fingers into his pants pockets, pulling his crotch closer to mine, and grind upwards. Not subtle…not ‘nice’, I suppose, but he gets the message.

The look in his eyes gives me chills.

 

 

 

34. Diabatic

He says, “Bed, Hutch,” and before we’re even halfway there I’m naked and starting on his clothes.

I tumble us both down, stripping him, introducing my tongue to every inch of his skin, while he pants, “Tell me. Tell me whatHow…”

Sucking his fingers into my mouth, how am I supposed to tell him anything?

Then, heavy-lidded, watching me as I rise above him, he suddenly knows. Trailing spit-slicked digits behind to where the action’s going to be, he’s still surprised when I open to his touch and impale myself, a willing sacrifice.

We groan in harmony.

 

 

 

35. Empyrean 

Like a glove his heat wraps my fingers. I feel him strain, his pain pulsing from stretched muscles, tension across every surface…but his mouth hangs loosely, gasping. He looks like an athlete, he looks like an angel, and he offers me something I didn’t even know I wanted.

Rocking forward, he’s free to move - and he does. Towards me, not away. Reaching back to grasp my cock in one hand, jacking me softly like he thinks I’ll break. Maybe I will…

“Think we’re ready, babe?” he whispers, and aligns us.

I’m supposed to think at a moment like this?

 

 

 

36. Esurient

His eyes are the center of my universe even as I slide roughly onto his length, even as I’m torn apart, heart and soul. The sensation of fullness is more than just physical.

I rise…and fall and rise, setting a rhythm that will make this last because it’s nothing like I remember…richer, sweeter, a higher high. Never to be forgotten.

His hands grasp my hips, my hands cover his to press them deep into my flesh. Tomorrow, I suppose, there’ll be bruises - already there is blood; I feel it.

In this sublime act, I know, is our beginning…

 

 

 

37. Hasbara 

I think I’ve got it all figured out.

It’s how we’re raised, I suppose…us guys. We learn pretty early that we need girls…women...to prove we’re real men. A woman’s softness, her sweetness and fragile beauty. Stray off course and guys start pissing on you, putting you down.

Watching Hutch, I know I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than this man, lean-muscled, angular…and all man. I feel his power over me. His strength.

In a fair fight, he’d take me. But this ain’t fair - he’s taking everything, every inch of me, every scrap.

I surrender.

 

 

 

38. Onomatopoeia

Mrs. Starsky, I’ve corrupted your boy. Leastways, I hope I have…I don’t think he minds too much, judging by the way he yelled my name as he released.

I said his name, too - it came out as a gasp while I shot my load in slapdash spurts up to his throat. A hiss like steam, as the sweat poured from my face onto his belly...

I haven’t moved since: every joint has seized and, discounting the obvious, there’s not a single muscle that doesn’t burn.

Whispering, “Hey, Starsk, d’you suppose you’ll be waking up soon,” I mean soon, sincerely.

 

 

 

39. Epoch

Sorry, Ma - kiss grandkids goodbye. Not that I suppose for an instant you’d ever put your mouth where they just went!

But I’m pretty sure I will… One day my mouth’ll go over every inch of that body, learning him by touch alone. Gonna have to; I can’t look at him. If I open my eyes I’ll just want to fuck him again. And again.

Maybe we need a time out…and maybe he should stop clenching his ass ’round me like that.

I’m glad I died; now we’ve got all the time in the world to figure this out.

 

 

 

40. Vaticination

“So here’s the plan,” he says, “We buy a house--”

“Or a duplex--”

“Or maybe just another apartment, nothing fancy--”

“Kitchen…bathroom…bedroom…”

“With a real big bed--”

That’s as far as we get. Dropping heavy hints with his eyebrows, he makes an offer I can’t refuse and something in me stirs, comes alive.

He’s sprawling, spread-eagled, ready - willing to give up everything to me… For me.

We should look at that, discuss the implications. And we will…after I’ve loved him within an inch of his life.

This could take a while…

Like forever…

 

 

ghghghghgh

 

Individual title definitions hyperlinked to www.thefreedictionary.com

 

AND AGAIN…MY PROFUSE APOLOGIES IF YOUR PAST COMMENTS WENT UNANSWERED…

I HAD BLOCKS IN MY MSN ACCOUNT OF WHICH I WAS UNAWARE - THEY ARE NOW FIXED!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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