Sparkling Blue

Chapter Nine. Evening of the 3rd day of the Conference.

Margaret stepped off the elevator, small shopping bags in hand. She listened for Charles, looking around curiously.

"Charles?" she called. No reply.

She went to set her bags down on the coffee table and saw a quickly scrawled note. Fortunately, she was most adept at reading Winchester's handwriting.

'Margaret,

I have to meet some colleagues for a short time in the coffee shop. I should be back by 8:00.

Charles'

Ah, perfect! she thought. This fit her plan wonderfully. She ran into the bedroom and threw the bags down. Picking up a big robe, she went to the bathroom to prepare for her shower before Charles got back.

Margaret blushed when she returned to the big bed and the bags she'd brought home. She'd found a couple of shops near the hotel from which to buy the needed items.

As she took one item from its bag, she held it up, her eyes glowing in anticipation at Charles' expression when he saw it. Hell, I'm getting turned on just seeing it, Margaret thought. He's gonna DIE!

She finished her final preparations for his arrival, slipping the second bag onto the floor between the bed and the wall, where she could easily access it later. She didn't want him to peek into it, or know the contents, until it was time. She wrapped the big robe around her, fixed her hair to dry, brushed her teeth and waited in the bedroom.

She knew how she WANTED to greet Charles when he stepped off the elevator, but prudently thought it wasn't a good idea. He may actually be bringing back guests, and they certainly didn't need her standing nude in front of them with a snifter of amaretto!

A half-hour passed, and Margaret was getting bored. She'd found an old battered magazine in the night-stand touting Tokyo's many charms, and sat on the corner chair by the balconey to casually read through it. She was startled when she heard the arrival of the elevator to the penthouse, and went to the bedroom door, surreptitiously peeking out to see if Charles had indeed brought guests back.

He had.

Whew, Margaret thought, dodged THAT bullet! She giggled to herself, imagining Charles' reaction (and the men with him) if she had greeted him in the buff as she'd considered.

She saw him look briefly around, toward the main bathroom and the kitchenette, to see where she was. When his eyes swept to the bedroom door, she stuck only her hand out, motioning with a single finger for him to come closer.

Charles turned to the three men who had accompanied him. "Please, gentlemen, feel free to pour yourselves a drink from the bar and have a seat. I shall return shortly."

One of them, the oldest of the three, moved to the bar and asked the other two what they wanted to drink.

Seeing his guests well in hand for now, Charles went to the door, the curiosity obvious on his face.

He peered through the crack in the door, and Margaret stepped back, opening the very top of her robe to show him a little taste of what was to come. Charles gasped at the lace and satin he saw peek through, dark blue with black lacey trim and frills. He reached a hand toward Margaret, and she grabbed it, sucking a finger into her mouth and enveloping it completely.

When she released it, she whispered, "You're next. And I don't mean fingers, either."

Charles hastily cleared his throat, to be sure he could modulate his voice appropriately, and turned to his guests. He had to see how fast he could get them out of there.

It didn't take long at all. After the barest of courtesies, within a half-hour he was bidding his colleagues farewell, telling him he'd see them in the morning at the closing reception for the conference.

He quickly removed his uniform jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the elevator, and removed his tie and belt. His shoes soon followed, and as he perched on the arm of the couch to start on his socks, he heard Margaret opening the door to the bedroom.

"Oh, no, don't do that, get in here!"

He stood and smiled and moved to obey her missive.

She put her finger over his mouth, telling him "Shhhhh," as he'd done to her the night before.

"Now it's my turn to revel in the silence," she said, leading him to the bathroom. She quickly finished undressing him, noting that he'd been correct in that it didn't take long for her to affect him.

She stroked her fingertip along the length of him, softly and delicately, making his inner muscles twitch. "Remember, not a word, Winchester. Now, SCREAMING is allowed, and you'll be doing plenty of that by night's end."

He looked down at her, reaching for the top of her robe to get another look at the satin and lace. She gently slapped his hand away.

"No, no, no, not yet, Charles! Into the shower with you!"

She washed him from head to toes, quickly and efficiently. As he turned off the water, she was already there with his thick warm robe. She helped him into it, almost like a gentleman helping a lady with her jacket.

Charles was reveling in the attention Margaret was laying on him; it felt wonderful to have her running the show tonight, and his curiosity had been piqued by the wee glance he'd got of her creamy white skin and dark blue satin. It was surely the most perfect color for her, and he couldn't wait to see the rest of it!

Margaret led him to the big bed, sitting him down on the edge. "You wait here!" She went to the living room, returning shortly with two snifters of amaretto. She handed him one, and they sipped the warm almond liqueur in silence.

She took his snifter from him, set it and her own down and went to stand in front of him, not saying a word. She looked him up and down, as if she was pondering her next move. SHE knew what she was doing next, but HE did not. She wanted to keep him guessing.

Double-checking that her robe was still securely around her, not allowing anything to peep through, she went to him and put her hand on the back of his neck, roughly pulling him to her for a deep kiss.

"Hmmmmm," he moaned, wondering if that was allowed, as his tongue danced delightfully with her own, gently exploring.

Margaret couldn't contain herself and moaned in response, moving in to put her hands over his ears, his cheeks, drowning herself in the feel of his lips and tongue. He's such an amazing kisser! she thought. Her body began to move, her back arching, and he couldn't resist. He moved his hands up her back and down again, squeezing her firm ass, gripping her to pull her against him.

She had to force herself to move back, or her plans would be ruined in the heat of the moment.

"No, no, almost!"

She didn't want to wait much longer, she had to get this little party started. Holding the robe close, she stretched across the bed for the little bag she'd concealed by the wall. Charles heard a slight clanking sound as she moved passed him with it. She resumed her pose in front of him, dangling the little bag back and forth on her finger.

"Now, Charles, I visited a couple of shops nearby. And if you know anything about Tokyo, you know you can find just about ANYthing here, if you know where to look. I found two things that I think will make this a most... MEMORABLE... evening, IF you want to do this."

Charles couldn't keep the curiosity and anticipation from his eyes, as he waited for her to reveal the contents of the bag. He simply nodded his head, waiting.

She reached her hand in, but held it there. "Now, remember, all you have to do is indicate yes or no, and we'll do this or not. It's totally up to you. I want you to be comfortable. You trust me, don't you?"

He smiled and nodded an affirmative.

"All right, then," and with a flourish she pulled out a set of leather cuffs, lined with soft sheepskin.

He couldn't contain the gasp as he stared at the large cuffs dangling from her hand. He couldn't contain the reaction as he stiffened, his internal muscles again tightening and twitching with the coming excitement. He'd never done anything involving such a device, never been with a woman who'd even CONCEIVE of such a thing. The fact that Margaret Houlihan thought of it, for some reason, didn't surprise him too much.

Margaret watched him as he stared at the cuffs, the indecision obvious on his face. She wondered if he'd give in, and simply indulge himself tonight, not worry about the personality he presented to the world of being an upright, staid member of Boston society and a prominent physician. She could only imagine the thoughts raging through his mind, as his eyes flicked back and forth from her eyes to the cuffs.

Finally, after an agonizing minute or so, he nodded his head.

"You're certain? Like I said, I want you to be comfortable."

He nodded vigorously, smiling, assuring her he was all for this.

She set the cuffs down next to him, and indicated he could pick them up and look at them. He saw that they didn't lock, that he'd be able to remove them himself if necessary. She wanted him to reassure himself that even though his hands would be restrained, there was always an out for him.

He looked back at her, again curious about the second item.

She smiled and reached in. "Now, Charles, THIS isn't going to be too comfortable, but your discomfort will actually be a good thing and a turn-on for you, I'm positive of that, from what I've heard from other men."

That REALLY got him curious. She pulled out a leather ring, with variously spaced snaps on it. He frowned, wondering what it could be. Not a collar, he thought. Then his eyes went wide with realization. He gasped again, unable to hold it in.

She laughed when she saw his recognition. "Yep, it's like a collar... only it doesn't go around your NECK, Charles. Have you ever USED one of these?"

He smiled, his eyes sparkling, and shook his head "No."

"Wanna give it a go? You trust me, right? Like I said, it's going to hurt somewhat, and you're going to be begging me to slide onto you well before I'm ready. I'm going to have you so fired up that this will help... prolong it as it were... until the finale."

Being a doctor, he of course knew the principle behind such a device. He nodded yes, he was ready.

She went to take the cuffs from his hand. She climbed behind him on the bed and pulled him back, indicating he should get on the bed completely. She pushed him back and piled up the pillows so he'd be in a semi-reclining position. She didn't want him to miss a thing when she started working on him.

"Charles, I'm going to trust YOU to keep your arms and hands back, like you did to me last night. I'm not tall enough or strong enough to keep them there for you, while I drive you insane with my hands, fingers, lips and tongue."

She was rewarded by his groan of excitement as he obediently leaned back. She leaned over him, his arms up and behind him, his hands held close together. Their mouths were centimeters apart, and as she fastened the cuffs to his big wrists, being sure they weren't too tight, she drove her tongue into his eager mouth. She could tell he was already resisting the urge to fling his arms down and embrace her.

"No, no, you've got to keep your arms up! Just relax, rest them behind your head on all the pillows. Let ME do the work tonight, and you can finish me off!"

Margaret was ready to begin, now that he was reclining and comfortable. She slowly opened his robe the rest of the way, running her hands over his broad chest and up to his shoulders, back and forth, reveling in the feel of his warm skin. She leaned down, softly kissing his neck, tickling his delicate earlobe with her tongue.

She covered him with kisses and nibbles, tiny licks of her hot tongue and nips of her teeth, back and forth on his neck and earlobes.

His movements became urgent. She whispered, "Oh, Charles, relax; I'm just starting here!"

He nodded his head and she felt him force himself to relax into it, to savor the touches of lips and tongue.

Having finished with his neck and throat, from one side to the other, she returned to the hollow of his throat, above the sternum, and licked back and forth, her tongue twirling circles on his flushed skin. While her tongue was busy there, her left hand wandered over his chest, pausing at the hard little nipple. She traced circles around it, teasing it, and Charles groaned in response, moving his torso, trying to get her to go those extra little millimeters to touch him.

She flicked it with her fingernail, then pinched it between finger and thumb, her mouth still continuing its magic on his throat.

Charles felt fire cut through him, from Margaret's wet mouth to his nipple, sending a tugging through to his groin. He arched into it, wordlessly demanding more, and felt Margaret's compliance when she pinched him between her fingers. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to maintain not saying anything, but she'd already said screaming was all right. He suspected he'd be screaming a lot by the end of the evening!

Margaret moved her mouth down him now, over the rough hair of his chest. She loved running her lips and hands over him; he wasn't too hairy, but had a pleasant amount, just right. As her left hand continued to taunt and tease his nipple, pulling it, pinching it in her fingers, her mouth went to the other one.

Charles watched her as her long glistening tongue reached out, drawing wet lazy circles around the erect nipple. She softly breathed on it, sending tingling sensations throughout his chest, the coolness making the little male nipple even harder, almost engorged. He arched his back again, from one side to the other, almost overwhelmed by the sensation coming from both sides.

"M...," he started to mumble, and she gave him a sharp "SHHH!"

He's not going to be able to keep quiet much longer, she realized. It was almost time.

She continued down his torso, until her chin bumped against his erection. He gasped at her touch; didn't matter what was touching him, lips, tongue, chin, whatever - he relished it.

Looking up into his eyes, confirming that he was watching, she slowly opened her mouth, her tongue again whipping out to touch him. She softly and tenderly lapped at the very tip, putting her mouth against him to suck the little drops that were already emerging in his excitement.

His answering thrust told her she'd better move to the next stage, or the evening was going to end sooner than she wanted it to.

Straddling his strong thighs, Margaret ran her hand up and down his hardness, encouraging it, stroking it to an even greater length and thickness. She had to make sure there was enough give when she put the leather strap around him, so it wouldn't be so strangulating as to cause him real damage. It didn't take long for him to respond to her urgent hand, and he gasped as another few drops emerged from the tip.

"Mmmm..." he started to say.

"Shhhh, not much longer, Charles!"

She reached over and took the leather strap, wrapping it around the base of his erection, snapping it in place. He was already so engorged that she had to use the largest adjustment on him. She felt along it, and felt Charles restraining the urge to thrust into her hand. Perfect, she thought. Snug but not so snug as to damage him.

She sidled up over him, enjoying the feel of him rubbing against her robe and what she wore underneath. She knew when she dropped his robe, that he was not going to be able to restrain from crying out.

Now past his hardness, straddling his abdomen so closely, she leaned down into his waiting mouth. Charles had to fight the instinct to loop his long arms over her and bring her to him. Margaret sensed this and put her hands on his arms, holding them still, as she again thrust her tongue so hungrily into his mouth, probing him, wrapping it around his own eager tongue.

"Hmmmm," he mumbled, as his pelvis instinctively shot up, the motion slapping his erection against his belly, hitting her behind as he moved.

"No, no, not yet, Charles, I know it's getting hard to restrain yourself. You can talk now," she said as she slipped her robe completely off.

"OH MY GOD!" was Charles' response as he lifted his head, taking her in. She was wearing that lovely dark blue and black nightie, but his eyes flew open wide as he looked closer. The supporting top held her breasts so high and tightly, and peeking through both sides were her pink engorged nipples, free and exposed. She was so close, so tantalizingly close, and he could do nothing but stare.

"Margaret, PLEASE, I need you, I need to taste you, lap at your lovely nipples!"

She laughed as she moved forward, still restraining his arms behind him, feeling him fight the urge to grab her.

"Certainly, Charles," she whispered, moving her right breast up to his mouth. He eagerly latched onto her, sucking her in, teasing her with his tongue and teeth. The feel of her in his mouth, and the rough tickle of the surrounding lace exposing her so gloriously, was seriously getting to him. The several sensations, Margaret's breast over his face, the leather strap holding his erection so snugly, was overwhelming. His moaning was reaching a fevered pitch as he roughly suckled her.

Margaret moved against him, pushing herself into his mouth as he painfully tugged at her, trying his best to devour her with his mouth. She gasped in response, her nerves screaming in ecstasy as she felt the heat and tingling move throughout her upper body,

She pulled herself out, gasping as Charles reluctantly released his hold on her. She moved her other breast over him, and he sucked the nipple in, giving it equally ardent attentions, his tongue swirling around her, his teeth roughly pinching it.

While he was drowning in her satin and lace covered breasts, and her exposed nipples, she'd been grinding herself against his abdomen. Charles could feel the wetness of her as she did so, moaning as he imagined what she looked like down there, rubbing so hard against his skin.

"Margaret, please, move closer, I need to taste you, I need to run my lips and tongue up and down you, lap up those juices," he pleaded, trying to lift his head closer to her.

She scooted forward even closer, finally resting her folded knees over his shoulders, exposing herself to him. She reached behind him to fix the pillows, putting his head at the proper angle to reach into her depths with his tongue.

Charles gasped in wonder as he saw this portion of her beautiful nightie: There was nothing covering her sex, leaving her as exposed as her nipples had been, encased only in the ticklish rough black lace.

"Oh, Margaret," he said eagerly, indicating once more for her to get even closer. "Closer, Margaret, don't worry about hurting me or anything!"

She moved over him, and his long tongue lapped out at her, homing in precisely on the hard nub, sucking it into his mouth like he'd done with her hard nipples. She was as engorged as he, and when he initially touched her, he immediately felt the surge of wetness from her as the ecstasy waved over her. She arched into him, his tongue continuing to tease her as his teeth so delicately held her in place.

Charles had to taste all of her, and moved down the length of her, almost holding his tongue in place and letting her move over him. He found her opening, and thrust his tongue into her. Margaret gasped at the sensation, moving up and down on it as he kept it stiff and firm for her.

The sounds of her, the fragrance of her sex, the tightness of her were almost more than Charles could bear. As Margaret made love to his tongue, Charles finally could stand it no more and moved his arms over her.

Margaret's attempts at keeping him restrained had been futile; it became obvious to her, when he moved his cuffed wrists over her, that he had been allowing her to hold him there.

He drew his looped arms over her, down to the small of her back so he could drive her more forcefully onto his tongue and eager lips. She was rocking on him, enough to keep back to give him breathing room, and he pushed her up and down, pumping her on his face.

As she arched back, losing herself in the sensation, he finally pulled back enough to move forward and again suck her engorged little nub into his mouth. The resulting scream would've made Charles lose control himself, if not for the restraint of the strap around his engorged erection. He thrust his pelvis in response, again feeling his hardness slap against his belly.

"Margaret, my dear, I can't wait much longer, strap or no," he muttered as he again lapped at her, front to back, relishing the wetness that had flowed from her latest orgasm.

She lifted her knees back over his shoulders, sliding down his torso once more, leaving her wetness on him to cool his flaming hot skin. Her rear bumped into the tip of his hardness, and he drew in a sharp breath, wondering what she was going to do next.

She'd become so enflamed herself, that she could wait no longer either. Manuveuring her pelvis, and without her hands, she moved over him, allowing him to slide gratefully into her.

Charles, with his cuffed wrists and arms looped over Margaret's back, pulled up and simultaneously thrust, driving himself completely in her as she impaled herself on his swollen length. She gasped at the sensation, again amazed how he reached so completely into her, past her cervix, into the very pits of her vagina.

Her muscles gripped tightly around him, enfolding him in softness and heat, as he continued thrusting. He was unable to achieve completion, with that strap around him, holding him back, keeping him filled and unrelieved.

Margaret was waiting for the precise moment to release him, knowing that as soon as she did he'd climax and fill her up. She leaned forward, rubbing herself against him, stimulating herself into another climax. She wanted to time it just right, so they'd reach orgasm together.

"Charles, soon, Charles, let me... let meeeee... " she screamed, almost there, and she reached to the base of him as they'd hit a downthrust in their rhythm, and quickly undid the strap.

The sudden surge of blood into his already engorged erection caused a blast of momentary pain, but the pain only enhanced the sensation as the tension built to an explosive level within him. This was the scream Margaret had promised him.

"YES!" he howled triumphantly, pulling Margaret painfully to him, the power of his final thrusts throwing her forward as she braced herself against his strong chest. He continued to pound into her, literally filling her up as the fluids emerged from her, flowing down them to the bed.

Margaret screamed at the same time, having co-ordinated their climactic release perfectly, and their voices rang out into the night. She couldn't believe how Charles kept going, not realizing that both the feel of the blood filling him up, and the muscular contractions of her orgasm squeezing around him, was sending him so over the edge he was losing himself on that brink.

When they both finally had finished, the energy and warmth moving around them, Margaret collapsed onto Charles' heaving chest, her breasts rubbing against his rough skin as she gasped as well.

He ran his still-cuffed hands up and down her back, from shoulders to derriere, dipping a finger down to her, where she remained connected to him. Their bodies were coated in sweat and other bodily fluids; he smoothed his hands over her back, muttering soothing words to her as he felt her relax so completely on him.

I could lie like this forever, he thought happily.

After they'd lain there for a while, Charles softly stroking Margaret's damp hair, he whispered to her, "Margaret, I hate the thought that this is going to be it, and then we return to the 4077th."

She didn't reply at first, and Charles wondered if he should've said anything. She'd made it abundantly clear that it was these three days and nights, that's it.

"Charles, I don't want this to be the end, either," she said softly.

Neither spoke for a time, both thinking hard about what may lay ahead at the camp and in their professional roles of Doctor and Nurse.

"How about we simply use stolen chances, see what happens day to day," Charles suggested. "Margaret, you are very dear to me, and I don't see this as simply casual play. I wouldn't dally like this with a woman I had zero feelings for, after all. But like you said, you just got out of one relationship. I understand, we won't have any romantic tie to one another, but if, as friends, we can give one another pleasure on occasion, is there anything so wrong with that?"

"No, not at all. And if one of us finds someone, there won't be any insane jealousy?"

"No, Margaret, nary a whiff. In fact, I hope you, or I, can find someone to make you happy, certainly someone better than Donald!"

She lifted her head, looking him deep into his eyes. They'd said the words, without really SAYING them, she'd realized. Margaret and Charles loved each other, yes, but as dear friends. Perhaps, someday, she thought wistfully.... But no, she wasn't going to go there. She really needed time away from the stresses of a real romance, and simply enjoy the physical togetherness she and Charles had shared these three glorious nights.

Margaret nestled back again under Charles' enfolding arm. She reached to his wrists and released the cuffs, throwing them at the end of the bed. She looked at his wrists to be sure he'd not been hurt; being a surgeon, she'd had to make extra certain he was not bound too snugly.

Knowing she was inspecting him, he laughed softly, "I'm fine, Margaret, on BOTH ends!"

She laughed, and reached down to check how he'd faired with THAT restraint as well.

"Hmmm," he groaned in response to her ever-increasing strokes on him. "I think that strap had another benefit, Margaret," he muttered as he drew her into another deep kiss, pulling her onto him completely.

A short time later, as she again slid onto his hardness, unrestrained this time, she thought they'd definitely have to remember to bring her two little toys back to the 4077th in the morning. The way the two of them screamed tonight, she couldn't imagine where they could make use of them in that crowded gossip-riddled camp.

Maybe a minefield would work.

Postlude. Back at the 4077th.

By mid-afternoon the next day, Dr. Winchester and Nurse Houlihan were in the O.R.

Margaret approached Charles' table as the first patient was brought to him.

"I'll be at your table today, Dr. Winchester," she said, looking up at him over her mask.

He looked back, and she could sense the smile behind his mask. "Excellent, Nurse," he said softly, as their sparkling blue eyes danced at one another.