SPACE: Above and Beyond
RATING: NC-17 m/f, language
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is not to be published on any ftp site, newsgroup, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the author.
The character of Tracy Fairgate belongs to Karen Evans
"Somebody's Darling" is by J.H. Hewett & M.R. De La Coste, I like the version sung by Kathy Mattea
Thanks to Gabrielle Bessey for all her support!
This is a sequel (of sorts), to Ice Queens, check it out first, or just relax and enjoy this one, this story takes place after Ice Queens and before Desk Job, 2 Sweet Scenes and Sweet Surprise.
This isn't a story at all, but an erotic scene. Hope it's hot enough.
All comments to LittleEva1@aol.com
Oh My Darling
Richard Nixon Veterans Hospital - - Alexandria, Virginia
As Congresswoman Tracy Fairgate walked into his hospital room, Colonel Tyrus Cassius McQueen sighed heavily. There just was no getting rid of her; even if she wasn't a congresswoman, she'd be just as pushy. He'd tried to shock her by showing her his stump, red, raw and veined, but she reminded him that both her breasts had been destroyed when her husband shot her in the chest, tried to kill her, nearly 70 years ago. He tried yelling, but she'd only yell back and her mouth could be worse than his.
She just didn't understand that he didn't want her to see him like that. Damn. Couldn't she at least wait until he'd received his permanent prosthesis, which the doctors promised was as close to the real thing that science could provide? No, she wanted to see him now, to drive him insane, taunt him, make him want her.
Sure, she'd brought him the good news that his "kids", Vansen, Wang and Damphousse had been found, damaged, but found, and McQueen knew she had something to do with the president demanding that Commodore Ross search for them. Still, she had no right to be here, now. Every time he looked at her, he remembered their boxing match and the night they made love, and he knew it would be a long time before he'd feel comfortable doing either again if he'd ever feel that comfortable again.
McQueen sat in his wheelchair, facing her. She looked at him, frowned, then walked into the bathroom. When she came out, she was smiling.
"You've got a tub in there," she said, in her throaty voice, made so by non usage, during her cryogenic "sleep" of 64 years.
"Yeah, what of it?"
Tracy stared at him. "When's the last time you had a proper bath?"
McQueen's eyes narrowed. Anyone else would have run for their life, not Tracy, not this congresswoman/ex-gangbanger from the Bronx. She knelt by his chair.
"The nurses gave me sponge baths. They didn't want my...my...it to get wet."
"Well, that was good w hen you first came in here, Ty, but you're leg's got to be better now, if they're fitting you for a prosthetic."
McQueen looked away. Tracy stroked his cheek and found it rough. "You need a shave."
He glared at her. "Don't you have anything else to do? Isn't congress in session or something?"
"No, we're on our vacation." Tracy sighed. "Ty, you know, you take care of your kids, you've given your leg for your country...you're always worried about everybody. Why don't you just lie back and let somebody take care of you?"
It sounded more like an order than a request. "Ty," Tracy touched his arm, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't give a shit. I'd be like everyone else, who just thinks of you as some goddamn tank."
McQueen knew she wouldn't take no for an answer, well, maybe today she would, but not tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Well...maybe she was right; he didn't know what it felt like to let someone take care of him. He always worried about the 58th, and he even worried about the Angry Angels, when he was with them.
He sighed, resigned. "Okay, do what you want."
Tracy grinned. She got up and locked the room door, then she walked into the bathroom. The next sound McQueen heard was the sound of bath water. What the hell did she have in mind? She came back into the room, and wheeled McQueen into the bathroom, where he saw the bath water running, into the large, deep, round tub.
Tracy dipped her hand in. "I think it's just right."
He frowned. "Don't tell me you're going to give me a bath."
"Alright, I won't tell you."
"Shit," he said under his breath, "treating me like I'm some goddamn baby."
"Well maybe it's time someone treated you like a baby for a change, huh? Jesus Ty, sometimes you act like a big baby...always got to have your way."
Glaring did no good, so McQueen was silent, silent as Tracy tested the water, turned off the faucet, then started to undress him. McQueen felt himself blush, but kept silent.
"It's not like I've never seen you naked, Ty."
He didn't speak. That was how he was going to get her, not give the response she wanted to hear. When she'd undressed him, Tracy helped him into the tub. McQueen bit his lip, to suppress a moan of pleasure when the hot water hit him. The water was just as he liked it, hot, not hot enough to scald, and there was a pulsating, a massaging going on too. It felt good, soothing, comfortable, his entire body relaxed involuntarily.
"It's like a Jacuzzi or something," Tracy said. She went into the medicine cabinet and got a razor, soap, shaving cream and shampoo. She sat behind him, on the floor, put shaving cream on her hands, massaged them together, and gently massaged his face. Tracy's hands were soft, yet firm and insistent, as she circled his face, slowly. McQueen's breathing became heavier as he smelled her sweet, musky scent, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, but he still wouldn't speak.
"There," she whispered, "I wish I had a straight razor, but this'll have to do. Now, don't worry, I won't cut you, I'm very good with knives."
McQueen allowed himself to look at her face, she was upside down to him, and he closed his eyes again. Tracy gently placed the razor to his face and shaved his stubble, slowly, gently.
"Feel good?" she said.
McQueen let a moan spill from his lips. "Oh, I get it," Tracy said, "the silent treatment, shit, you are like a child. Well, I don't care, after being in session, it's nice to have some quiet for a change."
As she shaved him, she ran her left hand across his face, smiling as she felt his smooth skin against her hand. "Oh...yes," she whispered. "It feels so good."
Tracy took a wet washcloth and wiped the left over shaving cream from his face, then she pulled down the shower nozzle and turned it on. The warm water pulsated on and around McQueen's head, that combined with the pulsating water in the tub caused his groin to slowly respond, but he quickly regained control and halted that feeling.
Tracy poured a little baby shampoo in her hands, rubbed them together, then started to wash McQueen's hair, massaging her fingers in his scalp. She hummed "Somebody's Darling", a Civil War song, softly to herself. Tracy had a nice singing voice and McQueen knew he could fall asleep listening to it.
"Love this Marine buzz cut," she whispered, and then resumed humming. As she continued to massage the shampoo into McQueen's hair, Tracy also massaged his navel.
"Oh..." he gasped.
"Sorry," Tracy grinned. When she was finished washing, she once again turned the shower nozzle on McQueen's head, the warm water, washing out the shampoo. Tracy moved the nozzle lower, to McQueen's navel. He gasped as the warm water, pulsated his sensitive area, as the hot bath water continued to stroke and caress his body. He twisted his body to the side as he began to harden, his erection growing more full underneath the water.
Tracy took the washcloth again and washed McQueen's shoulders and back, she moved to his chest, the cloth caressing his scars there. He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn't want to give into his body, then he opened them and looked at Tracy. To hell with silence, to hell with everything. He roughly grabbed her right wrist, she dropped the washcloth.
"Ow...Ty," she said.
"If you don't get your clothes off and get in this damn tub, I'm gonna pull you in here, with all your clothes on, and that'll be fucking hard to explain."
Tracy licked her lips with her long, pointed tongue. "Well, I can't take them off if you don't let go of me."
McQueen slowly released his grip. Tracy stood, facing him and slowly, unbuttoned her blouse, throwing it to the floor, then she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it as it fell. McQueen's eyes widened, pupils dilated, as he looked at her, in a black bra, black garter belt and flesh colored stockings.
"I think I once wanted to be a stripper." Tracy winked as she unhooked the front clasps of her bra, freeing her surgically created breasts, Tracy slowly massaged them. "Prosthetics," she winked.
"Beautiful," McQueen whispered.
She stepped out of her pumps, unhooked her stockings and threw off the garter belt. Tracy stood, naked, in front of him and watched his blue eyes as they darkened with lust and desire.
"Get in here now," he ordered.
"Yes sir." Tracy saluted. She got into the tub and slowly moved to where McQueen half sat, half lay, against the porcelain. He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her, filling her mouth with his tongue, then he moved his hands to her breasts, caressing, pulling, stroking the nipples until they became hard as pebbles. Then, he moved his mouth on her breasts, licking, kissing, sucking them hungrily Tracy kissed him, and sucked just as hungrily on his tongue, while one hand caressed his stump and the other caressed his penis. He gasped, then cried out, almost in pain.
Tracy slowly massaged his penis, McQueen shut his eyes tightly and bowed his head. "Oh...God...Tracy..let me...let me..." His hips strained against her hand. She suddenly stopped.
"Slow down, baby," she said.
"Easy for you to say," he growled.
"That's why I'm saying it."
Tracy smiled, then moving closer to him, she guided his penis into her opening, he grabbed her hips and pulled her, hard into him. The water, combined with her own wetness, made it easier, he was all the way in her, her legs wrapped around his hips and his one leg wrapped around hers, while his stump pushed on her thigh, trapping her inside him.
Their arms wrapped around each other, Tracy's around his neck, McQueen's around her shoulders. Then, McQueen began to thrust into her. He was so large, and Tracy, so tight that even the pulsating water couldn't dislodge them, in fact, it made McQueen harder, and Tracy wetter.
Kissing, they moved together in a perfect rhythm, Tracy sucked McQueen's tongue in time to his thrusts. Though they tried to keep their movements slow, steady, their quest for release overtook them. McQueen gasped as their rhythm began to slowly increase. They broke from their kiss, and for a moment, looked at each other, eyes on eyes, then, they kissed again.
As McQueen's thrusts increased in intensity, he grabbed Tracy's buttocks, pushing himself deeper and deeper into her, digging his nails into her flesh, but Tracy didn't feel it, she leaned over and bit his shoulder, her own nails digging into him. Tracy felt herself close to orgasm, she wanted to stop it, hold back, keep the feeling forever, but she was powerless as she bucked her hips uncontrollably straining to get even more of him, swallow him inside her and then, as madness began to overtake her, she squeezed him tightly with her thighs and finally she screamed, at least she thought she did, as the frenzy of her climax shattered her entire being.
Coming to, Tracy opened her eyes, she saw McQueen, holding her tightly, eyes tightly shut, a low painful groan coming from his throat, as he drove towards his own climax. For a second, his body grew tight in her arms, his nails dug into every piece of her flesh he could get his hands on; then, from a deep place in his throat, he called out Tracy's name and pumped violently inside her, once, twice, three times, before he came, shuddering and exploding into her body.
They stayed, clinging to each other, gasping for breath, fearing that if they let go, they'd drown in the still pulsating water that had now become lukewarm. Seconds passed, that seemed like minutes, before they looked into each other's sweaty, flushed faces. McQueen kissed Tracy's forehead, then whispered her name. Tracy leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Shit, and all I wanted to do was give you a bath, Ty." Tracy could barely speak, her breathing was so hard.
"It's the nicest bath I've ever taken," he whispered, still panting.
Tracy looked at him and smiled. He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled as well.
"Thank you," he said.
"Don't thank me, I had fun too."
"No, thank you for getting me to forget about...." he gestured to the stump. McQueen knew it was silly, but ever since loosing his leg, he thought himself not a whole man. Now, he had no reason to feel that way.
Tracy winked at him.
"Now, let's get out of this tub and back into my room before you ruin your reputation."
Tracy sucked her teeth. "I'm in Congress, Ty. A ruined reputation gets you elected."
Tracy helped McQueen out the tub, they dried off, and dressed. Tracy pulled the plug on the tub as the warm water, laced with seamen went down the drain.
She wheeled him back to his room. He pulled her to him and kissed her mouth, almost pulling her onto his wheelchair. She looked at him, the question in her eyes, he shook his head. "No, I'm worn out."
"Me too, don't forget, I'm a hell of a lot older than you."
He laughed. Tracy smiled and walked to the door, unlocking it.
"So, Congresswoman," McQueen said, as she opened the door to the hall and the real world, "how long's your vacation?"
"A month, of course, you know the House."
McQueen's face grew serious. He nodded. "See you tomorrow, we'll continue our... discussion." It wasn't a question, it was an order.
His face was so serious, Tracy had to contain her laughter, but she put on her public face and nodded seriously. "I'll see you tomorrow, Colonel."
THE END
LittleEva 8/5/96
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