Reclaiming Sofia

"She was a little girl."

Oh, Christ! How to respond to that?

"I don't think you meant to, Sofia. I know you."

The girl was silent, but her hand again began to move over his chest, toying with his chest hair. Then, very softly, "They told me it was a fair shoot. There was no briefing, just a hurry-up strike at a high-up ID'd by some intel puke. But there was a little girl in the car."

His hand ran lightly over her brow, stroked the side of her head.

"You couldn't know."

"It doesn't matter, Ryan. I killed a little girl!"

He thought about that a long time, silent beside her.

"Who am I, Sofia? What do I do? Mistakes happen. I've seen it. It sucks."

The woman did not reply, but he sensed she was listening.

"The Marshals Service has an Occupational Stress Injury program, Sofia. I'd be surprised if the Air Force doesn't, too."

"It does," she replied. Her voice seemed flat to him. "And theoretically it's not supposed to count against you. But if the shrink decides that I'm undependable or something, then there goes my flight status. And there goes any hope of flying as a civvie later."

Ryan heard the bitterness, the lack of trust. It resonated within him. A more experienced partner had once advised a much younger Ryan - Doctors are not your friend, Deputy.   Ryan had come to better understand the reality of that bitter cynicism with every ache and pain.

"How about a civvie doctor then, somebody who can keep quiet? You shouldn't have to live like this, Sofia."

"No. It all got classified, even before I left the GCS that night. If word got out, they'd fire my ass so hard I'd bounce all the way to Leavenworth."

She rolled to face him. "You can't say anything, Ryan. Promise?"

He hugged her in response, seething with his helplessness, enraged at her limited options.

Sofia fell silent, refused to say anything more. She rose, stood in front of the large window. Ryan lay on the bed, hands behind his head, pondering, watching as the reds and oranges of the rising sun silhouetted her body.

It was a lovely sight and part of his brain echoed admiration, happiness, desire, but the man was too concerned for her to admire it properly. Eventually, he rose, stepped behind her and, arms around her waist, pulled their bodies together. Her bottom felt cool against his flaccid sex. He smiled when her head came back, rested briefly on his shoulder, then turned to face him. There was a faint smile on her lips.

"Thanks, Deputy. I know I can count on you."

He squeezed her tighter for a moment.

"Always, Sofia. And you're welcome here anytime.

And her courage grew, just a little.

+

The nights were cooler now, still very pleasant. The two lay outside on a double chaise lounge, looking up at the stars. A regular visitor to his house now, Sofia had brought her uniform this time, had no deadlines.

She found comfort in this place, in Ryan's arms, in his bed. The Dream still circled her nights, but less frequently now. Ryan's presence, his faith in her and his love had worked slow, small miracles for her. In his house and yard lay peace, quiet, love. Neither of them bothered with clothes very much.

Ryan rolled slightly, ran his hand over her face, shoulder, gently cupped a full breast. Sofia's hand clasped his, pulled it against her.

"Thank you, Ryan. You're good for me." She giggled as the boy lightly thumbed her nipple. It stiffened a bit in response. His whole hand squeezed, gently, and she felt her breath catch.

"Tease," she whispered.

"Tease?" Ryan tried to feign indignation, failed; Sofia heard the fondness in his voice.

Her breath caught as he caught the nipple between thumb and finger, stretched it slightly.

"Yes, tease." She paused. "And a very good one."

"Mmm. "You're a lovely woman, Ms. Garza."

Her voice was just a little ragged when she replied.

"And you, Deputy Manx, are taking advantage of me."

She giggled as that remark brought a soft squeeze of her breast.

"I'll stop, if you wish."

"Don't you dare."

She turned her head, giggled louder at the sight of his manhood rising over his abdomen, hard now, expectant. The boy shivered as she ran one soft fingertip around his wrinkled sac, then up the soft skin of his length. His cock twitched and bounced slightly as her finger ran off its tip.

His hand switched breasts, teasing, fondling. Sofia felt her tummy tighten, sensed her lower lips swelling at his expert touch.

Her hand flowed back down along his hardness, cupped his balls, fondled them, pulled them tenderly away from his body. Ryan sighed, deeply, softly.

"You're pretty good, yourself, lady."

Sofia smiled, circled his hardness with thumb and fingers. Soft, soft skin flowed under her hand as it moved up his rigid member. She stopped when she reached his swollen rim, squeezed, then began to pump, back and forth, not at all hard, not at all far, but very, very quickly.

Beside her, the man tensed. His bottom half-rose off the chaise.

Ryan gave a soft cry of disappointment when she released his sex, pulled her arm out from under him, shifted away.

"Sofia?"

She turned, knelt beside him, facing his feet. Again, her hand seized him

Such a beautiful thing!   she thought to herself happily. Smiling, she bent to him, smelled his manly essence as her nose touched his slit.

Her tongue circled his crown, slowly, then began a circling series of rapid flicks over and around it. Ryan's body shifted, his hips rising in appreciation.

Sofia gasped slightly as a broad hand swept over her bottom, stroked an inner thigh. Her gasp deepened as a long finger traced its way higher, over her bedewed labia, circled her pearl.

Sofia leaned in further, took his tip into her mouth, nibbled it very gently with sharp white teeth, pulled him in further.

Ryan's finger left her bud, explored, found her entry, probed slowly. Her hips swayed a little as it explored, investigated her velvet depths.

Ryan's other hand searched for, found a hanging breast, cupped it, squeezed it lovingly.

Sofia could sense Ryan's hand being covered in her pleasure now. She moaned for the first time, closed her lips, sucked in and began to bob back and forth over his cock.

His finger found her G-spot, caressed it, again and again and her fire began to blaze, hotter, then hotter still.

Each time she pulled back, keeping him still locked inside her mouth, she swirled his mushroom with broad strokes of her tongue, her free hand fondling his tender pair.

The boy pulled away slightly.

"Sofia," he said gently, "I'm going..."

So considerate!   she thought to herself. He knows I wouldn't mind, but he still...

The thought turned to mist as his finger left her, again found her bud, stroked and fondled it. She began to shudder, groan more loudly.

With that, Ryan's hands seized her by the waist, lifted her bodily with those massive arms. A moment later, she was facing him, her knees on either side of his hips. She reached down, aimed him as he lowered her slowly onto himself. She gave a low cry as her womanhood was entered, stretched, further and more.

The two lay still when he was fully home, cherishing, tasting the pleasure each other gave. His hands left her waist, found her breasts, cupped them, held them with the love and promise she had so missed for so long.

The girl began to roll her hips, slowly grinding her sex onto his. She could feel him move within her, felt her clitoris's joyous approval. She sped up her movements, faster now, harder, smiled at the smile it brought to the boy's face, then changed to lifting herself up on his cock, allowing herself to fall, belly slapping on belly as his fingers left trails of honeyed fire on her swaying, bouncing boobs.

Her cries became louder, rougher, deeper, a growling confirmation of new life. A squeeze on her boobs sent her off into white, frozen fire, starlit magic and amazement and joy and joy and eternal joy.

She sagged, would have fallen onto him had his hands not shifted to her waist, supporting and holding her. Again he lifted her, dropped her weight onto himself, her warmth enfolding him as she fell. Again. Again, and her orgasm grew and grew and seemed to consume her universe, leaving her the only thing in existence, swimming in pleasure, until the man suddenly groaned, froze, big hands pulling her down, holding her in place against him. She could feel his shaft pulse and throb within her as he emptied himself into her dark, welcoming depths.

Only dimly did she feel him pull away after he had softened, take her into arms and carry her up to his waiting bed.

+

"Ryan?" Her whisper was very soft, half lost in the fan overhead.

The man turned, lay on his side facing her. A gentle hand stroked her jaw, ran along her upper arm. It was comforting, loving and the girl was certain now.

"Mmm?" he murmured.

"I did it today."

"Did it?" There was a sleepy chuckle. "You sure did."

"No. Well, yes, but I'm trying to be serious."

She could see his eyes open in the dim light, focused on them.

"I asked to see the flight surgeon about my dreams."

The enormity, the weight of that frightening decision made her soft words seem almost a shout.

Ryan pulled her towards him, clutched her body against his. She could hear his heart beating, sensed his breathing catch momentarily.

"Thank you," he whispered, hugging her still more strongly. "Thank you, Sofia. I've been so worried for you."

"It... it won't be easy, Ryan. I know that."

"I know." His hug eased a little; he shifted so he could look at her face.

"I might be released, Ryan."

A strong hand swept over her head, down her back, held her by the waist.

"I've got your six, baby."

"I won't ask you to promise, Ryan, but..."

"I promise, sweetheart. I'll be here.

+

Maria was quiet over dinner. Sofia put it down to a long week, hotter-than-normal weather.

Finally, Maria put her fork down.

"Sofia, we have to talk."

Sofia sat back, a little puzzled. Maria had a serious look on her face, but there'd been no hint of any kind of friction between them

Maria looked at her for a moment. Her gaze shifted down at her plate, then back up.

"I'm moving."

The flat statement hung in the air between them, then the implications hit Sofia. Rent was high here and she'd either need to find a new roommate or move back into BOQs. And she'd been going nuts in the uncomfortable, tiny officer's quarters a year ago...

"What did I do?" she blurted, hoping this could be corrected.

Maria laughed at that.

"You didn't do anything, Sofia, but remember my applying for that job out east? It turns out they really liked me. We did another Zoom interview last week and, well, I'm outta here in three weeks. The job's too good to pass up, hon. I just found out this afternoon. I'll pay an extra month's rent, but I can't turn this down, Sofia."

Stunned, but hardly angry, Sofia nodded solemnly. "It's OK, Maria. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do." She paused for a moment. "What can I do to help?"

+

Ryan's solution when he was told was as predictable as it seemed to him simple. To Sofia however, the answer was anything but simple.

Yes, she loved the man. That was in fact the problem. Would it be enough? Was she actually able to love someone -- love them fully, love them deeply as they should be loved, with full commitment on her part?

In her heart, there seemed to be a barren spot, a place where nothing would grow, no light could reach. It was a frightening place, a frightening thought to the young woman.

And, much as she loved Ryan, this would be another big step, another big exercise in trust -- and the thought of a failure at this point frankly terrified her.

The soft look in his eyes helped, as did the muffled sound of his heartbeat when he pulled her head against him in a gently hug.

"I love you, Sofia. I love you as you are."

She wondered then if he could read her mind, relaxed slightly as his hand ran down over her back.

"You can be whatever you want to be here, Sofia, keep whatever hours. I hope we'd share a bed, but there's a spare room if you need space from time to time. And if it doesn't work out, I'll understand."

"I'm crazy, Ryan. You know that."

"I love you as you are, girl."

She looked up, her face solemn. "You promise?"

"I promise."

She willed her shoulders down, hugged him, listened to the slow metronome of his heart.

+

"So," Ryan said, his hand not quite touching the doorknob, "Last chance to back out. Are you sure about this? Moving into a strange man's house like this?"

She looked up at his smile, put down her suitcase. One arm around his waist, she drew him close. her other arm pulled his head down until her lips stopped just short of his.

"You men are all pretty strange, Deputy, but I'm prepared to risk it. Promise me you'll protect me from the orcs under the bed?"

Ryan's face softened. With the forefinger of one hand, he gently stroked her cheekbone.

"I promise -- under the bed or anywhere else, love."

"Then open the door."

Ryan unlocked the door, turned the handle and pushed the door open just an inch before stepping back and waving Sofia ahead.

"After you," he smiled. Sofia pushed on the door and stepped forward.

+

Most of her clothing was already in the house and there was little else that she needed.

The suitcase had been symbolic, but weighty for her. It was the final brick in Trust, the final step in Commitment.

She'd been slightly worried that Ryan would immediately want to immediately celebrate her arrival in bed but, to her relief, after a fond, warming hug, the boy simply made light talk, asked if she had enough room in the closets, discussed a distant Christmas party at his office. She felt reassured, even knowing his ability to please her, felt cherished for herself, felt more a part of a pair now.

"Where would you like to eat?"

"Um, I hadn't even thought about dinner, Ryan. Had you anything planned?

"Actually, no. I've been a bit busy. Um, I've got some ribs in the freezer and there's salad makings if you're in the mood. Would that do?"

"Sounds perfect. I need a quick shower. Five minutes, then I'll make the salad?

"Works for me, Sofia."

Emerging from the shower, Sofia dried her body, rapidly toweled her hair, brushed it swiftly. It was short enough to be left to dry in place without a hair dryer.

Naked, she stepped towards the spare bedroom where her clothes had been hung pending eventual rearrangement. Halfway through the door, she could hear Ryan on the floor below, a pan shifting, plates rattling.

The girl looked at herself in the full-length mirror at the end of the hall. An idea struck her. She turned back and forth, examining her image. A lifting of mood, a confidence, a conviction slowly grew in her heart.

Never take counsel of your fears!   she reminded herself. Lead for a change. You can do this. 

After staring at her image for a moment, she smiled shyly, then turned back into the master bedroom and opened the closet where Ryan's things hung.

Her fingers ran over the hangers, left to right, then back again, paused over a brilliantly white dress shirt. Meant for the tuxedo she'd never seen him wear, it had the pleated front and French cuffs a tux demanded.

Giggling at her daring, she pulled it off the hanger, slipped her arms into it.

No, not really. Intended for the man's broad shoulders, the garment fitted her like a tent. Still, it had potential.

Intrigued, but knowing she had to hurry, she fumbled through his bureau drawers, found a set of cufflinks, pushed them into place, then fastened the top button at her throat. She giggled again at her image in the mirror, for Ryan's neck was big enough that she possibly could have pulled it on already buttoned.

Stepping back, she examined herself full-length. The shirttails were longer than those of any of her blouses. They covered her sex and most of her bum. A slight twirl and the shirttails flared like a dancer's skirt, exposing her secrets before settling down again. The front of the shirt lay ajar, leaving deep cleavage open to the eyes.

She found a bright red tie, wrapped it around the collar before realizing she had absolutely no idea how to tie a proper knot. Instead, she walked on silent bare feet to the head of the stairs, called out.

"Ryan?"

"Yes?" came the reply from the kitchen.

"I'm going to need your help in a minute."

"OK. Want me to come up?"

"No. It's OK. I'll come down."

Bent over the sink, Ryan's back was turned towards her when she entered the room.

"I washed the salad stuff for you," he said over his shoulder.

"Thank you," she replied, a smile slowly growing on her face. She bent to the greens waiting for her on the wooden-topped island, began shredding lettuce and putting it into a bowl.

'So, what did you need help...?"

Ryan's voice trailed off. A pot lid fell from his hand with a crash, rolling around on its edge on the floor with that odd, distorted 'wow-wow-wow' sound so beloved of cartoon sound editors.

Sofia deliberately kept her eyes on the salad.

"I couldn't find my robe, so I borrowed one of your shirts. I hope you don't mind?"

The girl could feel  his eyes on her. She smiled to herself, knowing how much she was pleasing him. Bending her head a little so Ryan could not see her face, she rolled her shoulders as if relieving a stiff muscle and flashing the boy a brief glance of side-boob.

There was dead silence from the other side of the room. Sofia's grin broadened. She leaned forward to pick up an errant radish. The shirt-tails rose behind her, briefly exposing her bottom.

She straightened up, set down her knife and turned casually towards Ryan, innocently holding up the ends of the tie in her hands.

"But I couldn't figure out how this thing works."

Ryan, his eyes big as saucers, kept his eyes on the scantily-clad woman she bent forward, found the fallen lid, straightened up again.

"So, could you help me with that?" she said softly.

His lips are moving,   she thought to herself, but he's not saying anything.

Good.

Sofia was enjoying herself now, as confident in herself and her feminine power as she had ever been. This would be right.

Laughing inwardly, she reached past Ryan to put the lid on the counter. The shirt parted again and his eyes darted to her breasts.

"So, a little help?" she smiled.

The boy started to move, but the girl's hands were faster. Holding the tie by its ends, she whirled it off her shoulders to land around his head. Tugging gently, she pulled him towards her.

"Please?"

The delight in his eyes was clear. His hands came across, closed around her waist and started to pull her toward him.

Smiling softly, Sofia raised a stiff forefinger to the middle of his chest.

"Tie, please."

Ryan, catching on, smiled broadly. He lifted the collar of her shirt before replacing the tie about her slender neck. His hands started to move, stopped. A puzzled expression came over his face. He tried again, again paused.

Sofia, fearing nothing now, allowed her best smile to burn through, batted her eyes at him.

"Problems?"

"I... I've never had to do it backwards before. I mean on somebody else's..."

"I don't think a bolo tie will work with this shirt, Ryan."

"No."

His eyes closed for a second, as if he were thinking. One hand suddenly pulled the tie loose and flipped it around his own neck. Eyes fixed on hers, he swiftly fastened the knot. Instead of tightening and straightening the knot in front of his throat, Ryan surprised her by lifting the loop over his head and placing it over hers. Seconds later, he'd adjusted it, turned down her collar.