Virgin

(c) January 2012 by Charlotte Frost

A Sequel to The Female Factor

Hutch stood before his bathroom sink, dressed in jeans and tennis shoes, but still shirtless while shaving with a manual razor.  It was going on eleven, and he'd just now bothered to get dressed and go through his morning ablutions.  He was supposed to pick up Starsky from the Chevrolet dealer, where he'd taken the Corvette in for routine maintenance, and then they were both going to a new multiplex theater to see Das Boot, which had opened a few months back.  It had taken some time for Hutch to convince his partner that Starsky could enjoy a movie with subtitles. 

Besides, they were both tired of watching TV and listening to all the grim news about how 1982 was going to be a rough year, since the country had been plunged into a recession.  Unfortunately, the decreasing number of people willing to hire a private investigator was proving the experts to be true.  After having such a good case at the end of last year, January had been a so-so month for them, and February was looking worse.  Starsky and Hutch both had a dearth of anything meaningful to do, and their boredom and concern was making them more snappish with each other than normal.   Therefore, Hutch was more than willing to get lost in the distracting drama of a German U-boat, even if just for a couple of hours.

Hutch moved the razor around his mouth corner.  A black speck suddenly dropped before his eyes, and he jerked back, gasping.  After a moment, he realized that a spider was dangling from the ceiling.  He reached out to take the webbing, and then lowered spider to the floor.  He promptly squashed it with his shoe, and then returned his attention to shaving.

Damn.  When he'd jerked back, he must have hit his mustache with the razor.  A clump of hair was missing from the lower edge, and now it looked corny.  He wondered if he could shave the other side in a similar way, so at least it appeared uniform.

He stood staring at the mustache.

He'd had it for a few years now.  Had grown it originally to add some character to his pale-skinned face, and he'd like not having to shave his upper lip in the mornings. 

Prior to that, he'd gone his whole adult life without facial hair.  How momentous would it be if he went back to that?  After all, if he missed the mustache, or found the morning shave of his sensitive upper lip an annoyance, he could always grow another.

Hutch didn't give it any further thought.  He carefully applied shaving cream to his upper lip, and then went to work with the razor.

It was nearly noon when Hutch pulled up to the service area of the Corvette dealer.  Starsky was waiting outside -- Hutch hoped not for long.

"About time you got here," Starsky said as he opened the door and sat in the passenger seat.  He shut the door.  "The movie starts in twenty min--"  He stopped, staring at Hutch.

As Hutch pulled away from the curb, he asked in puzzlement, "What?"

"Your mustache," Starsky said in disbelief.  "It's gone."

Oh.  Right.  "I accidentally shaved a few hairs, and then decided to just shave the whole thing to see how I like it."  Hutch stopped at a light and watched Starsky blink at him.  Again and again.

Finally, Starsky released a heavy breath.  "Oh, man."

"What?" Hutch wondered if his life partner could really be that upset about a strip of hair.  Starsky had never said much about the mustache in all their years together.

Starsky's voice was husky.  "I want to go home right now and fuck all that innocent nakedness."

Hutch made a left, toward town.  "You're a dirty old man," he said pleasantly.  And then, more firmly, "We're going to the movie, like we planned."

Starsky dramatically collapsed back in his seat.  "I don't know how I'm going to be able to sit through the movie."

Hutch was pleased, he had to admit.  "Don't worry.  Once you get focused on reading the subtitles, you'll forget all about the mustache."

Starsky stared at him again.  "I just want to push my cock between those perfect lips of yours.  Watch that naked upper lip clamp around it."  He exhaled shakily.

"Calm down.  We have the rest of our lives for that.  Let's just see the movie."

"We've never done it before you had the mustache.  Oh, man, I want to fuck that pristine mouth of yours so much."

Hutch spotted a park up ahead.  He couldn't tell that anyone else was around.  He gestured.  "We can stop there and I'll take care of you, and we'll be late to the movie.  Or we can just go to the movie and my upper lip will do whatever you want afterward."

Starsky growled.  Then he gasped, "Okay, okay, the movie.  But hurry up and distract me."

Hutch looked over at him and asked, "What did they say about your car?"

The movie had been an intense drama.  It was mid afternoon when Hutch pulled the LeBaron into the garage.

Starsky said, "Your naked upper lip is just as sexy as it was this morning.  So, go jump in the shower, 'cause I plan on spending a long time defiling you.  In the meantime, I'll call the Chevrolet dealer to makes sure they haven't found anything serious, and I'll check our messages."

Hutch realized that he was feeling quite willing.  During the movie, he had occasionally reached up to rub his fingers along his mustache, only to find that it wasn't there.  When eating popcorn, it had felt freeing to not have to keeping brushing remnants of kernels from the hairs.  It was going to be an adjustment getting used to that strip of hair no longer being present.

In the meantime, he had every intention of taking advantage of Starsky's infatuation with this particular new nakedness.  In the shower, Hutch applied soap to every  nook and cranny, and then rinsed thoroughly. 

He was drying off in the bedroom when Starsky entered, made a noise of eagerness, and then turned to the bathroom for his own shower.

After he was thoroughly dry, Hutch sat on the edge of the waterbed and waited, enjoying the feeling of his erection increasing in strength.

Starsky had only dried peripherally when he emerged from the bathroom.  "'I've got to have your mouth," he said huskily, approaching the bed.

Hutch stood, and his lips were immediately captured by Starsky's.  He held onto the other's damp body as Starsky lightly grasped his chin, and devoured Hutch's upper lip, making emphatic, agreeable "Mm" noises.

Then Starsky pulled away and pushed at Hutch's shoulders, saying gently, "Down you go, baby."

Hutch knelt, careful to keep his faced turned up so Starsky could see his upper lip.  He ran his tongue along that new nakedness, while his eyes fastened on the taunt phallus held before him.  A white bead dotted the tip.

"Oh, baby," Starsky whispered breathlessly, "I know that virgin mouth of yours wants it."  He then rubbed the tip across Hutch's new bareness.  Hutch flicked his tongue out, as though trying to capture the thick flesh.

"In a second," Starsky assured.  "Then you can have this, huge gigantic thing."  He outlined Hutch's mouth with it.

Hutch licked at the moisture that had been left against his skin.  Then he made a point of closing his mouth, but loosely, remembering how Starsky had said he'd wanted to push his cock between his lips.

Hutch held onto Starsky's hip, feeling him quiver.

"Ah, yeah," Starsky gasped.  "Here it comes.  All for you."

Hutch didn't open for it, but let Starsky have the satisfaction of pushing it into his mouth.

As soon as the thick flesh was partially in, Hutch clamped his lips around it.  His skilled tongue went to work on the underside, while pressing the head against the roof his mouth.  He sucked.

"Oh, yeah, baby.  You like nursing on that giant thing, don't you?  That sweet, virgin mouth was made for my cock."

Hutch made exaggerating movements with his upper lip, trying to give Starsky the full visual experience. 

He wasn't exaggerating at all when he grunted loudly with contentment. 

Both Hutch's hands now gripped Starsky's hips, as his fingers were eager to participate in the pleasuring, and they stretched across Starsky's buttocks.

Starsky muttered, "No fingers.  Just wanna watch that perfect mouth of yours do me."

Hutch was a little disappointed that Starsky didn't want digits up his ass, to stimulate his prostate. 

He let his fingers rest on Starsky's hips and just focused on the swelling phallus in his mouth.

"Your so damn perfect at this."  Starsky fingers stroked tenderly through Hutch's hair.   Then a thumb brushed across Hutch's upper lip.  Starsky groaned.  Then he gasped, "Gonna come all over that beautiful face of yours."

Hutch was intrigued.  Starsky had never wanted to do that before.

"You're sucking the juice right outta me.  Gonna spray you with it, baby.  Gonna spray.  Right n --"

Starsky pulled back and groaned, loud and long.

Hutch felt the stream shoot against his chin, and he reached to guide it upward, trying to get as much of the fluid as possible to coat his upper lip.

Starsky gasped, and then whimpered.  Then he collapsed back to the bed.

Hutch stood, feeling the weight of his own eager erection.  He knelt on the bed, and then leaned on an elbow.  When Starsky opened his eyes to look at him, Hutch slowly ran his tongue along the outside of his own mouth, cleaning up the semen.

Starsky growled deep in his throat.  Then he got up on an elbow and pushed Hutch back.  He attacked his mouth, taking over the cleaning chores.  He spent a long time sucking and nibbling at Hutch's upper lip.

Then his hand grabbed Hutch's cock.  "We're going to fuck face-to-face."

Hutch hadn't expected otherwise, with the mood his partner was in.  But he offered, "Want to watch me tongue you?"

Starsky released a breath.  "Yeah.  Just don't take too long, because I want my fucking."

Hutch did like to spend a lot of time orally tending to Starsky's asshole, because he loved the sensations he could create.

He reached beside the far side of the bed and pulled up a wedged pillow that they had picked up from a sex shop a few weeks back.  It allowed them a greater flexibility of positions, as well as the pillow having a firmness that helped offset the give of the waterbed.

Starsky moved so that the pillow could be placed in the center of the bed, and then he scooted to place his back along the lower end of the wedge, so that his hips were mounted on the higher end.

Hutch gently pushed at the back of Starsky's thighs and whispered, "Curl back a little more, if you can."  Starsky had trimmed down quite a bit in recent months, thanks to a committed fitness routine, and he rolled back in a tuck, so that his ass was sticking up higher, while supported by the pillow.

This way, Starsky could see more.  Hutch slowly ran his tongue along his bare upper lip, so his love could see his anticipation.  He lowered his face, and lovingly kissed across Starsky's ass crack and beneath his balls.  "Mmmmm."  He tried not lower his head to much, or Starsky wouldn't be able to enjoy the view.

With his thumbs, he parted the delicious hemispheres of flesh, stuck his tongue out, and then lowered it just enough to run along one edge of the wrinkled depression.

Starsky grunted.  "You're so damn beautiful, Hutch.  The most beautiful thing on this Earth."

Hutch's heart swelled, and then he went to work, licking more diligently, while still trying not to hide his face too much.  He paused a moment to wet his tongue liberally, and then returned, making loud smacking noises, as he licked along tender flesh.

He felt Starsky quiver, and his own erection hardened further.  He licked repeatedly over the hole, and it opened, trying to grab his tongue.  That was always the reaction he sought, the demonstrated eagerness that Starsky had to bring Hutch into his body.   

Hutch left the area, and rubbed his upper lip along Starsky's tender perineum, and then to the surrounding flesh.

"God, Hutch."  Then Starsky said, "I'm not going to last long, tucked back like this."

Which meant that Starsky wanted to get fucked in this position, while he could maintain it.  Though he never liked to have his ass eating time restricted to just few minutes, Hutch took pity on the difficult gymnastics Starsky was demonstrating.  He straightened, and ran a gentle finger along Starsky's ass crack.

Starsky reached above his head and found a tube of lube.  He held it out.

Hutch took it and made quick work of unscrewing the cap.  He squeezed a dollop out onto the depression, and then let the tube drop to the bed.  He smoothed the substance around the opening, and then gently pushed in a finger.  It disappeared easily, and Hutch moved it back and forth, enjoying the warm snugness.  He introduced a second finger a moment later, and then focused on spreading the fingers outward, while moving back and forth, stretching the muscle.

Starsky was very relaxed, which wasn't surprising after such a recent orgasm.

"Plunge that monster into me, baby.  Fuck me hard and fast, because I can't stay like this much longer."

Hutch took his cock in hand, straightening.  He enjoyed watching it being pressed down against Starsky's asshole, and that beautiful moment when the opening yielded.

Hutch closed his eyes and let himself sink.  Starsky grunted when Hutch flanks came to rest against his crotch.

A thumb ran along Hutch's upper lip, and he opened his eyes to Starsky trying to raise his upper body with his arms out.  Hutch lowered his head and shoulders, and Starsky's arms locked around his neck.

Hutch's lower body went to work, as he thrust forcefully and pulled back repeatedly, gasping with the effort of the backward thrusts, since they were working against gravity.  But there was something so warm and satisfying about he and Starsky being so wrapped around each other like this, almost like a ball of human flesh.

Starsky gasped, "Fuck me good, you beautiful blondie with that beautiful mouth.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck."

Hutch felt the sensations gathering in his lower body, a tingle starting along his spine.  He pulled his upper lip down over his teeth, exposing it as much as possible to Starsky's view.

And then he gave in.  Hutch gasped loudly, and quivered all over as he felt the stream shoot of from his loins.  He cried out.

Starsky dropped his arms to the bed and legs to the pillow, gasping with relief.

Hutch had to shift with Starsky's lowering hips, as his ejaculation waned.  And suddenly they were parted.  Hutch collapsed with his cheek against his love's belly.

"Ah, man," Starsky gasped.  "That was tough, but that was worth it."

Hutch felt a towel thrust at him.  He staggered to one side and wiped at his shrinking phallus.

Still breathless, Starsky asked, "Did that feel good?  Pounding from above like that?"

Hutch took a moment to catch his own breath.  "It felt good being so close like that, while also pounding that hard."  He found the strength to grin.  "It took a lot of energy, but I liked going so deep."  He pushed the pillow aside, and staggered up the bed to lie next to Starsky.

The room had gotten dark as dusk settled outside the window.  It wasn't long before Starsky was holding Hutch close and devouring his mouth again, with special attention paid to his upper lip.

"You make me crazy with lust," Starsky muttered between kisses.  He rejoined their lips, rubbing his hands all about Hutch's hair.  Eventually, he murmured, "My motor's running again.  Gonna need to fuck you."

A thought occurred to Hutch just then.  How Starsky had been so intent on referring to his newly naked mouth as virgin.  Hutch made his voice carefully delicate.  "As long as you're gentle with me, since it's my first time."

Starsky paused.

The darkened room was silent.

Then Starsky softly said, "Don't worry, my love."  He rubbed his hand along Hutch's chest.   "I'll make you want it first.  I'll make you want it so bad that there won't be any pain at all."

Hutch inwardly grinned, glad that Starsky wanted to play along with the fantasy.

Starsky held Hutch by the chin, and kissed him more gently this time.  Slowly.  Delicately.  Then he whispered, "I'll go real, real slow.  Get you so crazy with excitement that you won't ever forget your first time."  He tugged on Hutch's arm.  "Turn over."

Hutch slowly started to turn.

"It's all right," Starsky soothed.  "I'm going to make you feel real, real good.  Nothing's going to happen until you're ready."

When Hutch was face down, Starsky's hand rubbed slowly along his back.

"Just want to love you, babe.  That's all.  Give my beautiful love lots and lots of love."

The hands moved down from Hutch's back to his buttocks.  There, they spent a while moving in his circles, rubbing and squeezing.  Then, softly, "Spread your legs, Hutch."

Hutch did, but slowly, as though he was hesitant.

"Don't worry," Starsky continued to soothe.  "Everything I do to you is going to feel good."

When Hutch felt Starsky's thumb run along his rear cleavage, he clamped himself shut.

When the thumb brushed past the recess, Starsky said, "I know you're scared, Hutch.  I know it's hard to imagine that huge, gigantic cock of mine being able to fit inside your tight rear, but I'm going to make your hole want it so bad, that it'll relax and let my cock in."

Though his cock was currently sated, Hutch was sure it would be to his benefit to have Starsky work at this.

"First thing I'm gonna do," Starsky whispered lovingly, "is put my tongue back here.  That's the only thing that's going to touch you for a while.  So, just relax, baby.  Let my tongue do the preliminaries in getting you ready to take my huge, gigantic cock."

Hutch felt an arm slip beneath and lift his hips.  A regular pillow was placed there, and he relaxed against it.  Then he felt the sensation of hit buttocks being parted.

Soft moistness moved against his sensitive flesh.  Hutch whimpered, and then let himself relax against the mattress.

"That's right," Starsky cooed, "just gonna make you feel good."  His tongue returned to its task.

Hutch let the tender sensation wash over him.  His legs spread farther of their own volition.

"Oh, yes," Starsky taunted in a whisper, "you like that, don't you, my love?  You love the way my tongue is getting your ass all ready for its first fucking."

Starsky parted his buttocks wider, and then planted a big, sloppy kiss over his hole.  Then the tongue moved down to Hutch's scrotum, and lapped widely across the back of the pouch.

The peculiar sensation made Hutch writhe.

Then he felt teeth gently bite into his right buttock, and hold.

Hutch whimpered, bouncing his hips slightly, and then Starsky let go.

Starsky grabbed the other buttock in the similar manner, and Hutch quivered after the teeth had held him for a prolonged time.

Abruptly, he was released, and then his buttocks were spread farther.  A tongue darted along his inner tissues, and then lapped diligently along his opening.  After a time, Starsky said, "We're almost done with phase one of getting you ready.  You're a lot more relaxed now."

It was true, even though Hutch had thought he would make Starsky work harder at it.  But he was enjoying the sensations too much to try to resist against them.

"Just a little more tongue," Starsky warned.

This time, thumbs spread him even wider, and a tongue darted at the exposed inner tissues.

Hutch felt goose bumps explode along his flesh.

The tongue circled around.  And around.  Hutch quivered all over.

The tongue stopped, and slowly his buttocks were released.

"That's my love," Starsky cooed.  "Getting all ready to take my massive cock up inside you.  We just got to go to phase two, and get you ready for how thick it's going to be."

Hutch let himself drift while Starsky shifted along the bed and reached for the lube.

Hutch felt a buttock pulled aside.

"I know it's going to feel big, Hutch.  But it's just my finger.  Just one finger that's going to fit, even though you think it might not."

Hutch remembered, their first few times, how even one finger could indeed feel like it was too large to fit.

"Just going to go in easy," Starsky directed.

Hutch almost forgot to clamp down as the lubricated digit started to enter him, he was so relaxed.  But he did want to continue this fantasy for Starsky.

"My tight love," Starsky murmured as the finger wriggled partway in.  Then, breathlessly, "You're gonna feel so good when my cock gets in there."

The finger shifted, pushed, pulled, circled around.

Hutch realized he was getting hard again.

"Yeah, you're relaxing so nice for me," Starsky praised.  "I'm gonna put another in, and then I'm going to do something special to your insides, though not as special as what my cock is going to do."

Starsky pulled the digit out.  When two were introduced, pushing past his sphincter muscles, Hutch made a noise as though it had hurt, though Starsky surely knew that it really hadn't.

"Easy, easy," Starsky coaxed.  "It's just pressure, baby.  And now I'm going to make it worth being stretched out like that."

Both fingers were inside him.  They pressed deep, and then stroked along his lower prostate.

Hutch whimpered.

"Yes, my love.  That's your magic spot.  But my fingers can just barely reach it.  When my cock gets in there, it's going to massage along the entire thing, and you're going to love getting fucked."

Hutch groaned as the pleasure continued.

"Yeah, baby.  But we've got to make sure you can stretch wide enough, so you can accept me."

Starsky carefully pulled the fingers out.  Then he said, "Three this time, my love.  I know it's going to feel uncomfortable, but let it happen.  Let yourself stretch."

They both were so accustomed to being fucked, that they didn't need three.  So, getting three fingers seemed like a rare treat.

Sure enough, as the three digits entered him, Hutch found satisfaction at how it stretched him wide, almost like it did when Starsky put his cock in there.  He had a full erection now.

The trio of fingers slowly moved back and forth, and then bowed outward.  "Oh, yeah.  That's my love.  That's my Hutch.  Getting all stretched out to take my huge gigantic prick."  His voiced softened.  "You think you're ready to take a cock up your ass for the first time?  You ready to lose your virginity, baby?"

In answer, Hutch said, "Feel my dick."

There was an awkward fumbling, and Hutch raised his hips from the pillow, as Starsky's hand found his erection, and then gripped it.

Starsky chuckled.  "You're all eager for your first fucking, aren't you, baby?  Let's not keep the man waiting."  He tugged on the pillow and removed it from beneath Hutch.  Then, more gently, he said, "Want to spoon behind you.  Be close to you while my huge cock is teaching your virgin ass what love is."  He beckoned Hutch to move up on the bed, so he could lay his head on a pillow.  "Turn on your side, beautiful."

Hutch did.  He welcomed the warmth when Starsky pressed close behind him.

He felt pressure on his thigh, and bent his leg at the knee.

"Give me access, my beautiful love.  My huge, huge cock is coming your way.  It's going to feel impossibly big, but I know you want it and can take it.  Let me just get it nice and smooth, so it can make its way in."

Hutch reached down to give himself some soothing strokes, while Starsky lubricated his own phallus.

Hutch didn't care about the virgin fantasy now.  He just wanted his love to slip inside him and hold him close.

"Here it comes, Hutch.  Let yourself stretch for it."

The familiar sensation was there of pressure against his asshole.  Hutch felt himself part, accepting, and the thick flesh pressed up inside him.

"Mmmm," Starsky murmured, nuzzling against Hutch's neck.  "You feel so good."  He reached around to grab Hutch's cock and stroked it.

"Mmm," Hutch agreed.

Starsky undulated slightly.  "Love you so, so much.  Love being inside you.  Feels like home."  He kissed Hutch's cheek.

Hutch couldn't respond.  He was too focused on the gentle undulations within, and the hand that was stroking with a purposeful rhythm.  He realized that Starsky was wanting him to come first.  "Fuck me harder."

Starsky's hips moved more purposely.  His hand stroked in a firm rhythm with a firm grip.  "Come for me, you beautiful blintz.  My cock wants to feel your body explode.  My cock wants to feel your ecstasy."

"So close," Hutch muttered from deep within his throat.

Starsky's hand tightened at the spot behind the head, as it moved up and off.  Abruptly, he licked at Hutch's throat.

Hutch quivered and felt the peak upon him.  He felt a flush along as body as released claimed him.

Starsky gave him an extra squeeze behind the head -- knowing how Hutch liked it at the moment of coming -- and then let go.

Hutch felt his body melt into a puddle of goo.  He was aware of his sweaty bangs plastered against his forehead. 

Behind him, Starsky abruptly grunted, and then began to undulate in earnest.  His arm wrapped around Hutch's chest, tightening.

Hutch drifted along a wave of pleasure while his sensitive prostate received more stimulation.  Suddenly, Starsky's arm squeezed mightily across his chest, and then Starsky was crying out, his mouth pressed against Hutch's shoulder.

Then all was quiet, save for their heavy breathing.

Starsky moved first, shifting just enough to withdraw.

Hutch stretched to grab at the always-present supply of towels on the nightstand, and tossed a few between them.  Then he rolled over onto his back, just as Starsky did, and used the towel to wipe along his shrunken phallus, and then along his ass crack.

After they'd both pitched the towels aside, they got under the covers and curled together in the center of the bed.  The room was completely dark.

Starsky spoke first.  "I think I'm going to have to deflower you a few more times, before I get this out of my system."

Hutch grinned inwardly.  "Works for me."

"What was it again that made you decide to shave it off?"

"A spider came down from the ceiling, right in front of me.  It startled me and I accidentally shaved off part of one corner.  So, I decided to just keep going and shave the whole thing."

"Then we owe the spider one."

"I squashed him."

"Oh.  Well, at least he died for a good cause."

Hutch cautioned, "It's going to be a pain in the ass having to shave my upper lip again.  Maybe I'll grow it back."  Then he relented, "After a time."

Starsky said, "If so, then you can just shave it off again sometime later, and I'll go crazy all over you again."

Hutch chuckled softly.  "I had no idea you'd react like this.  Maybe I ought to shave down below."

Now it was Starsky who chuckled.  "That would be a turn on.  Though I don't know if it would be worth you needing to scratch down there all the time."

They heard the phone ring down the hall, where the office was.

"Don't get up," Starsky said, snuggling closer against Hutch.

Hutch didn't, but he said hopefully, "Maybe it's a job for us."  Though he didn't really believe it.  Most calls of late were somebody trying to sell them something, or out-of-work PIs who wondered if Starsky and Hutchinson, Inc., was hiring.

"There was a message for us when we got home," Starsky said.  "Somebody at some paper supply place said they think one of their people is freelancing on the side with their product, and they want us to do surveillance and see if it's true."

"Oh."  Hutch was almost going to ask why Starsky hadn't mentioned it earlier, but Starsky had obviously had other priorities on his mind.  Instead, he said, "Dare we hope that we might actually get two new jobs going?"

"We can hope."  Then Starsky said, "I'm sorry if I've been short-tempered lately.  I don't mean to be."

"We've both been, buddy.  Everyone is.  It's scary out there right now."

"But we're a whole lot better off than most people.  We have savings that can get us through a lot of bad years.  We should appreciate that."

Hutch realized the layered meaning of the last sentence.  He hugged Starsky against him, and then squeezed his shoulder.  "Don't ever think I don't appreciate you, buddy.  My life would mean nothing without you."

Starsky draped his arm across Hutch's middle.  "I don't ever question that.  Never have."  The arm squeezed.  "And I know you've never questioned my feelings for you."

Hutch rubbed his cheek against Starsky's hair.  "Uh-hmm."

"We've been through so much together," Starsky mused.  "And yet, we're the luckiest people on the planet, I think."

"I'm wide awake.  So, let's check out that last phone message and see if it's indeed another job that we've lucked into."

"Okay," Starsky said.

They both got out of bed.

END

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