Sparkling Blue

"Sparkling Blue"

(A/N: This is Day Two of the Conference. I was losing track.)

Chapter Seven.

Charles and Margaret met at lunchtime when they knew neither had a panel or demonstration to go to. They discussed their morning, the quintessential professionals, but neither could help being distracted by one another's sparkling blue eyes, thinking of the previous night and that morning.

Charles didn't miss Margaret wriggling uncomfortably in her chair. He looked around to be sure nobody could hear, and leaned forward.

"Uncomfortable, Margaret?" he whispered, smiling a secret smile.

She couldn't help but chuckle even as she writhed once more, adjusting her uniform as discreetly as she could.

"Yes, and you know why, Winchester, shush!"

He took her hand and gave her a quick kiss, as if apologizing.

She blushed and leaned forward. "So, what's on the agenda for tonight, Charles?" After the last glorious hours spent alone in his company, she couldn't begin to imagine what else there could be.

"In consideration of your, um...DISTRESS, I was thinking a nice long soak in that wonderful tub would suffice. We could even use the time to go over what we've learned so far in these sessions!"

She sat back and looked at him, considering what he'd said. "You know, Charles, that's not a bad idea. We should discuss what we've learned, help it settle in. I've learned some things I'd definitely like to incorporate into my staff, and ideas involving triage and pre-op to bounce of you and eventually the Colonel and Pierce."

"Excellent, so we'll have a most constructive and educational evening, Margaret! I can certainly order us some dinner so we don't have to fight the crowds at the nearby restaurants. I heard from one of the other thoracic surgeons here that it's been insane in and around the hotel."

She smirked at him, knowing tonight would be a grand combination of business and pleasure. "I'm not surprised!"

They finished their meals and went to the lobby, ready to part once more to their respective panels. Charles surreptitiously handed a penthouse key to Margaret. "Here, Major, so you don't have to wait for me in the lobby."

She tucked the key in her uniform, winked at Winchester and she was gone.

Charles returned to the penthouse suite first that evening, and called the hotel concierge. He told the man the items he'd need for the evening, for study purposes, and all were delivered within a half-hour.

Charles got their bathrobes ready as well, and a special soap he'd picked up nearby that was gentle and, he was amazed to taste, quite edible. It had a subtle almond and vanilla flavor to it. The proprietor of the apothecary had assured him that it was not only edible, but produced a marvelous volume of bubbles.

He had everything ready for Margaret's arrival. He stripped down and put his own soft, heavy robe on. He checked his watch yet again. Not having any idea when she could be returning, he decided to simply relax with classical music on the radio and the latest Stars and Stripes.

When he heard the elevator ding her arrival, he poured two snifters of amaretto and was waiting for her.

Her face lit up when she saw the candles illuminating the suite with a soft glow.

"Charles, this...."

He placed a gentle finger on her mouth, shushing her. "Shhhhh, don't say a word. Come with me."

He handed her a snifter and she sipped delicately on it, following him into the bathroom. The fragrance of the almond-vanilla, combined with the almond liqueur, filled her senses along with the candlelight.

Charles started the big tub filling, and while it was doing so, he took her little glass and set it on one of the tables arranged to sit over the tub.

He went to her and slowly began to undress her, still not permitting her to speak. He slid her little uniform jacket off and carefully hung it on the door, then began to unbutton the crisp white shirt underneath. As each button came undone, he slowly lowered himself down, kissing her bare skin, until he'd reached her waistline. He carefully untucked the shirt and reached up under the shoulders, sliding it off her completely.

Charles couldn't help but gasp at the very non-regulation black bra underneath, the satiny material so transparent he could see her rosy-pink nipples through it. He couldn't resist, and roughly bit into the sheerness, relishing the response as the nipple hardened against his teeth. As he teased and tormented her through the bra, enjoying her gasps, he unfastened her skirt, sliding it off her round hips and derriere.

Margaret remained motionless, glorying in the sensations of Charles' mouth and hands all over her. When he'd kissed down to her waist, she thought again of the previous night. She wished she could will away her skirt and underclothes, baring herself to him completely, but she bided her time. They'd get to that again, she was confident.

The slip soon followed, leaving Margaret in her black bra, matching black panties and shoes and stockings. He set her down on the wide edge of the tub and took off the shoes. He couldn't help but run his hands up her legs, the silky pantyhose enhancing the feel of muscle and skin beneath his roaming hands. He reached the top of the hose and pulled her standing; he slowly drew them off of her, leaving her only in her panties and bra.

He held her at arm's length, drinking in her beauty, the black lingerie in sharp contrast to her perfectly smoothe white skin.

"Oh, Margaret, you are simply stunning," he said admiringly.

He saw she was about to reply and again placed a gentle finger on her mouth. "Shhh, there'll be time for talk shortly, I want to enjoy this."

She smiled her understanding and remained there, perfectly still, allowing him to administer to her.

The longer he took, the more deliberate his actions, the more he became enflamed for her, his own arousal apparent through the robe he'd donned earlier. Margaret couldn't help but notice as Charles again sat her down on the edge of the tub. She was almost eye-level with him, and she licked her lips. Seeing her tongue and her glistening lips, Charles again felt the urgency of the night before. Take your time, Winchester, he thought.

Silently, Margaret grasped the robe over his hips and pulled him to her in her own urgency. His original intent had been to sit her down and remove her panties, to taste her once again, but she took control of the situation. She separated the robe and gasped once more at the prodigious size of him, wishing again she could take him entirely into her mouth.

Opening her mouth, her hands gripping the backs of his thighs, she pulled him even closer.

Charles gasped, having been caught completely off-guard. When he felt her hot mouth wrap around him, he couldn't help but put his hand on the back of her head, pushing her down the length of him. She responded with a soft gag, but the motion had done its job: he went further into her than the previous night. She gripped her hand on the rest of him, that she couldn't consume, and began to rub back and forth in time with the motions of her mouth. She tenderly touched her teeth to the velvety skin, her tongue lashing madly back and forth. Faster and harder she went, sucking on him, again, like the most incredible lollipop.

Her moans and the sounds she was making were driving Charles insane. He withstood this as long as possible, but didn't want to end this way, in her mouth; he'd much rather be pounding into her. When he felt the tension building, coming close to release, he forcefully pushed her away.

The smacking sound as she released him, and her licking her swollen pouty lips once more, almost did him in. He had to call on all the control he could muster as he looked down at her. The sight of her mouth, of her blue eyes gazing up at him with such lust, didn't help his efforts to control.

He pulled her standing and knelt down on the thick cushiony bath mat. He ran his hands up the backs of her strong thighs, over the roundness of her perfectly shaped ass, and he nuzzled against her warmth, breathing her in, drowning in her closeness. He hooked his fingers over her panties and slowly, slowly, pulled them down. He gasped once more at the sight of her, so close to his mouth, and he licked his lips in anticipation. Oh, how he loved to taste her, to lap at her, as he'd done the night before.

Charles sat her down once more and took the panties from her, discarding them with her uniform. He separated her legs, opening her to him, running his hands once more up and down her thighs. He could tell she was wet from sucking on him, her excitement building as well as his own. He couldn't wait to touch his tongue and lips to her once more.

Margaret scooched to the end of the tub, to the corner, so she could lean back. Charles moved with her, and when she'd gained her balance he took her legs and put one over each of his shoulders, moving in with his tongue and lips. She gasped when he touched her, tentatively at first, using his fingers to open her up completely. He lapped up and down the length of her, savoring her, and stopped when his nose hit her hard button. He pulled it into her mouth and teased it back and forth with his tongue and teeth.

It didn't take long for her to cry out his name, the moisture rolling down her once again as the pleasure and ecstasy washed over her.

As she'd moved her head back and forth up the length of him, so he did the same, his tongue thrusting in and out of her. With each forward motion he'd angle his tongue up, touching her sensitive inner spot.

Charles wasn't so far gone that he wasn't paying attention to the tub filling up, and gave Margaret one more kiss down below before he leaned over to turn the water off.

He smiled down at her and offered her his hand. Steadying herself with his hand, Margaret dipped her foot into the huge tub, testing the water. The fragrance was now overwhelming, the bubbles inviting her with their softness.

She climbed in the rest of the way, sitting on one of the little seats molded into the tub. Charles positioned her little table over her, amaretto within reach.

"Now, Major, we must get to work," he said in all seriousness.

"Yes, Major, we must!" she laughed. "Can I talk now?"

"Certainly. I was relishing the silence though."

She blew some bubbles on him. "Oh, you!"

He handed her a little towel to keep on the table, to avoid getting wet hands on her materials and notes. He went to the living area to retrieve the satchel she'd been carrying to the panels and returned it to her.

Within minutes, the two were settled in with notes and amaretto, ready to go over what they'd learned so far. It was more of a chance for Margaret to bounce ideas and information off Charles. His expertise was in an entirely different field, of course, one in which she wasn't a part. He could and would know the concerns of a nurse, so he was ready to listen to her.

They soaked for almost an hour when the grumbling of Margaret's stomach interrupted them.

Charles laughed, "Perhaps we should take a break and hit dry land for a while, and order dinner. The water's getting cold any way."

He climbed out first and picked up Margaret's robe. He held out his hand to help her out. When she stood and the soapy water began to roll off her, Charles again had to gaze at her in admiration. Making sure he wasn't on wet tile, he grabbed her to him, lifting her up into his arms as he'd done the previous night. Her slick slippery skin was enticing him, and he carried her, nude, to his bed, her robe over his shoulder.

He threw the robe down first then gently laid Margaret on top of it. He carefully moved over her, his long legs straddling her, and he leaned down to kiss her deeply, his fingers moving down to probe her soft inner flesh.

"Hmmm, did that soak help any, Margaret?" he muttered against her warm wet neck, her damp hair entangling on his face. "You feel marvelous down there!"

She wriggled back and forth, encouraging his fingers to dig in deeper and moaned in response. "Hmmmm, yes, I think it did, Charles. Let's find out!"

Charles did something he rarely did: he gave in to his own needs for once and moved between her legs.

Before Margaret knew it, he was holding both of her legs up and moved into her without preamble, confident she'd be ready after the long soak. Her replying gasp and the look on her face, head back, eyes closed, assured Charles that his impulsive move wasn't hurting her in any way. He leaned his larger frame over her, lifting her arms above her head. His big hand grasped her wrists together as he pushed onto them, the pillow cushioning her so he wouldn't hurt her. Bracing with his other hand next to her held wrists, he could thrust into her harder and faster.

Margaret gasped as Charles pulled her arms up and over her head, holding her down so powerfully, not permitting her to grasp him around the back as she so wanted to. She responded by wrapping her legs over his hips and lower back, forcing him farther in, farther and deeper. She tightened her inner muscles around him, reveling in the feel of him driving, pounding into her. He was losing himself in her, seemingly unconcerned about causing her pain. That was all right, she thought as she gloried in the combination of pain and ecstasy. It was like he could read her mind, knowing what turned her on in bed. As he'd restrained her thighs last night, clasping them so tightly to his chest and in his strong hand, the same excitement worked through her tonight with his hand holding her, making her helpless under him.

Her mouth wasn't helpless, however, and with him being so much taller than she, she opened her eyes and looked into his chest. She lifted her head as well as she could, grabbing his erect little nipple into her mouth, deliberately biting it hard. That'll show him, she thought, wickedly enjoying the gasp in response.

If anything, the delightfully painful bite spurred him on and he took his free hand, the other one still holding her wrists, and moved it under her buttock. He pulled her to a different angle, now rubbing against her, stimulating the sensitive little nub he'd teased earlier. Her thrashing back and forth, trying to free her arms so she could grip him to her, sent him over the top and he found release, screaming out her name as she did his. Charles couldn't seem to stop and kept thrusting, pushing, into her until every fiber and sinew in his body sang out, burnt and spent, and he flopped to her side, gasping for breath.

Margaret lay still, her arms still over her, her chest heaving from their exertions. Charles turned his head toward her, watching her breasts move up and down. He reached out to tweak a nipple, then leaned in to suck it into his mouth. He was still on fire for her as he'd never been for any other woman. He returned kind for kind and bit onto her, simultaneously teasing her with his tongue.

"CHARLES!" she screamed, gripping the back of his neck with her free hand, pushing him into her as he sucked harder. "My GOD, man, you just fucked the hell out of me and you're starting again?"

He chuckled against her, surprised to hear such language from Margaret, and muttered around her engorged nipple, "Keep talking like that, Margaret, and I'll fuck the hell out of you again!"

He was rewarded with her gasp at his own language. He figured it wasn't going beyond this room, so he could give in to the temptation of being so base and crass for once.

She pulled away from him, his mouth refusing to stop suckling on her and she yelped again as he pulled on her. After her escape, she roughly turned him onto his back and straddled his chest, rubbing herself against him, letting their commingled juices slide up and down his skin. He gripped her hips roughly, pulling her even closer until her legs were folded under his arms. He lifted his elbows to rest on her as he brought his two thumbs forward, touching her once-again hard little button. He moved in, separating her outer folds so he could stimulate her better, and she was lost in the ecstasy.

Margaret put her hands over his elbows that rested on her and rocked back and forth on his probing thumbs. She closed her eyes, moving as he drove two fingers into her, his thumb stimulating her at the same time. Charles looked up at her as his fingers did their work, reveling in the expression on her face, watching her hard-tipped breasts move so enticingly over his head. He could no longer stand it and took one hand, put it on her back and pulled her down to him for a deep kiss. His tongue demanded entrance into her hot mouth and she leaned into him, feeling as though she was melting and merging into those incredible lips.

Her rocking reached a fevered pitch, and Charles felt her inner muscles tighten around his fingers. She sat up, arching her back and gasped, shuddering against him, and he felt the next wave of moisture over his hands as she'd reached yet another orgasm. He smiled, bursting with male pride that he could bring this amazing woman off so readily. She looked down at him once more and wriggled against him when he took his fingers and slowly began licking her juices off them, moving them in and out of his own mouth suggestively.

She laughed at his little show and moved off him, telling him, "Just wait your turn, Winchester, if you can!"

He laughed too, pulling her to him to snuggle. Her grumbling stomach protested once again, and they laughed together. Charles rolled off the bed, yanked Margaret's robe out from under her and threw it at her.

"Here, let's get at least partly dressed, so the busboy bringing our dinner won't be embarassed!"

Charles, after putting his robe back on, went to the living area and ordered an exquisite meal, with accompanying champagne, then returned to Margaret. She was in a light doze, lying partly on her stomach, a pillow clutched under her arms. He stood and looked at her for a moment, marveling once again over this three-day tryst.

He was rather disappointed it was going to be coming to an end, but they had their understanding: this time and no more. Maybe he could convince her otherwise, if only for the physical pleasuring they could give one another, whenever possible. It's not like Charles had zero feelings for Margaret; he considered her a real friend, so they had that connection, if nothing more.

He went to her and gently rubbed his hand on the back of her thigh, exposed by the partially opened robe. She chuckled in response, showing she wasn't really asleep.

She turned over abruptly and stood. "I think I'm going to take a shower, care to join me?"

"Certainly. It will be at least a half-hour for the champagne and dinner to arrive."

They didn't take too long, actually showering instead of playing around. They were back in their robes, reading the Stars and Stripes and listening to music once more, when their food and drink arrived.

Charles had ordered a variety of finger foods and light fare, with a small cheesecake for dessert. He told Margaret the cheesecake was for AFTER their next round of bed-play, so they wouldn't be too full to have fun.

Her eyes sparkled at him over the rim of the champagne glass. "Oh, another round, you think so, Winchester?"

"As if you could resist," he said, smiling back at her. "I told you, I've ruined you for other men!"

She stuck her tongue out at him, neither confirming nor denying such a boast. She didn't want to tell him that he was, indeed, the best lay she'd ever had!

"Is that an offer?" he asked innocently.

"Oh, YOU!" she said, laughing.

They didn't linger too long over their light dinner. Margaret took her freshly-filled champagne glass with her and went back to the bedroom, turning around to motion to Charles that he should follow.

"Time for round two, Winchester."

She pushed Charles down on the edge of the bed and, holding her champagne in one hand, opened his robe, exposing him, then opening her own robe. She straddled his wide thighs, scooching up so she was touching him, rubbing her sex against him. She smiled down at him, pleased to feel he was already reacting to her.

"Doesn't take much, does it, Winchester?"

"With you? Nary a second."

She ground against him, encouraging him, as she took another sip of the excellent drink. She dipped her finger in and put it in her mouth, all the way in, and slowly pulled it out, her eyes never leaving his. She did it a second time, his low moan deep in his chest telling her it was having the desired effect. She could certainly feel the effect it was having on him between her legs.

"Hmmm, keep that up and there won't be much foreplay, Margaret."

"Oh, yes there will, I'm just teasing you."

Having received the appropriate response from her promptings, she moved off of him and knelt on the floor, between his knees. She took a big gulp of the bubbly champagne and carefully opened her mouth, drawing the tip of his hardness into her mouth, letting the bubbles work around him. He gasped in response, leaning back onto his hands, his eyes closed so he could revel in the unusual sensation.

Keeping her mouth on him, he felt her swallow the champagne down, the motions of her tongue and throat muscles squeezing around his girth. Maybe it was the champagne relaxing her, but she let her jaw muscles go limp, her throat opening, and she shoved herself forcefully down on him. She set the champagne down, still not releasing him, and put her hands behind his hips, pulling him into her warm willing mouth. She mumbled something, but having her mouth full, he couldn't make out what it was.

"What?" he managed to gasp.

The mumble in response sounded like "Nothing."

She repeated the swallowing motion, again moving her muscles up and against him. It seemed to help bring even more of him in, until she finally could take no more, the tip of his length pushing on the back of her throat. She relaxed into the sensation and motion, moving up and down the shaft, teasing the delicate underside with her tongue, her moist lips strongly gripping him. Faster and faster she went, her hands rocking his hips and pelvis in time. She knew he was getting close; she could feel the muscles in his buttocks and thighs tightening up. She could tell he was controlling his release, his inguinal and abdominal muscles tensing.

"Ma-margaret!" he gasped, his hand resting on the back of her head as he instinctively pushed her down on him, harder and faster.

"Hmmmmm?" she queried, not ceasing her frantic grasp on him with her tight lips.

"Margaret, please, I need you to stop, I need to be in you!"

Oh, hell, she thought. She was hoping to finish him off with her mouth, but that was apparently more than he desired. She gave him one last lap at the tip, touching her tongue to the little drop that emerged.

Denied that pleasure, she stood and, hiking one leg over his hardness, she slammed down on him, drawing his entire length into her. They gasped together, as he again reached all the way in, bruising her cervix. She'd so enflamed him, the passion overtaking him, that he gripped her buttocks, standing up and holding her on him.

Margaret gasped as Charles stood with her, holding her up so powerfully. She'd never imagined he was strong enough to do this! She knew he'd been on the brink, and that could fuel him with adrenalin, but still, the muscles under her hands grasping so tightly to his shoulders amazed her. He'd move her up his great length and let gravity slam her back down on him, over and over. She pulled herself closer to him, her fingers digging almost painfully into his shoulders and upper arms. She wrapped her legs tightly around his back, letting his hips support some of her weight, while his arms continued the pushing up and dropping down motions.

The stimulation against her was bringing her to another climax, her breathing coming louder and faster.

Charles suddenly turned and, not releasing her, he threw them both onto the bed, Margaret on her back. She kept her legs wrapped snugly around him, and he held her under her back. Bracing his feet on the floor, he thrust into her even harder. Margaret opened her eyes to see his face. He's gone, she thought happily, as she watched him lose himself in total and complete ecstasy.

She was pleased he wasn't holding anything back but reveling in the freedom of pounding into her, over and over. She didn't think it was possible, but he increased the rhythm and intensity, working at her so hard and fast now that his hands under her moved down, lifting her up to him, bringing her close with every downward thrust.

Charles was gone, completely and utterly gone. Even the night before, when they'd made love so intensely, a small part of his ever-rational mind had remained sharp, concentrating on the moment at hand, concerned about pleasing Margaret and not hurting her from his greater size. Now, thinking about her mouth on him, the sights and sounds of her sucking on him, the feel of her tightness around him, he was lost to any reason and thought.

She'd made it clear that he would not hurt her, so he'd let that concern go. All there was was the motion, the thrusting, her gasps and little mewling sounds fueling his passion. The feel of her muscular legs wrapped around him, and her fingernails digging into his strong back, was driving the last of any sanity from him. He felt the tension rising, begging for release. With one more powerful drive into her, he let go a primal scream, not knowing or caring if anyone heard in the quiet of the night.

He couldn't stop, he kept moving into her, filling her up, feeling the wetness of his, and her own, response oozing out around them. Her screams of ecstasy drove him on until finally, finally, he could do no more and he collapsed against her. A small bit of sanity came back long enough to tell him, "Move, you'll crush her!" and he rolled to his side, panting and gasping for air.

They were both so replete, so exhausted, that they collapsed into sleep where they lay.