Reclaiming Sofia

"There," he said. "But you forgot the studs." His finger flipped one side of the shirt open.

Sofia had noticed the absence of buttons, but time had been short.

"So I did, but you can show me another time. Now, the salad's almost ready. You said something about ribs?"

A flash of dismay crossed the man's face before his mouth split into a wide grin. Ryan understood the game.

"Yes, ma'am!"

He moved to the door. "I'll just light the BBQ."

Re-entering the house a minute later, he was met by Sofia heading out, a tray full of cutlery, glasses and napkins in her hands.

"It's still warm out," she said. 'We won't have too many more chances this year to eat outside."

He smiled, stepped to block her passage.

"Toll," he said softly, leaning his mouth towards her.

Sofia leaned up, kissed him, ran her tongue tip over his lips, withdrew.

"Toll paid," she whispered, surprised at the husky tone of her voice.

The man stepped aside gracefully, but left one arm stretched out. As the girl passed him, his fingertips touched her tummy, swept over her hip, trailed off a firm buttock.

Having shed her worries for the moment, she laughed, thrilled at his touch. His fingers left tingling paths on her skin and she felt the flush on her cheeks.

"Should I get some wine?" he offered from behind her.

"That would be nice."

Minutes later, Ryan closed the BBQ lid on the sizzle of ribs. He stood, tongs in one hand, looking up at the stars. The city's bright lights cut down the number to be seen, but they were a way off and the walls were high enough that the display was still impressive.

Sofia looked up, pointed excitedly as a meteorite left a trail across the sky.

"I know, right?" In the darkness, the sound of his voice seemed to have an existence all of its own.

She stepped to stand beside him, but the man took her by the waist, pulling her gently until she stood in front of him, her back to his chest.

It was a warm night, but the warmth of his body was noticeable, comforting. His hands closed around her waist, but made no attempt to move inside the open shirt.

"How long for the ribs?" she whispered. She leaned back into him, confident of his support.

"Few more minutes." He squeezed her, a loving hug, and the girl felt a small tear in one eye, a happy tear. She smiled, brushed it away with a finger.

He shifted behind her. Giggling, she shifted her bum against him. Yes, it appeared he was enjoying himself, too, for she could feel his rigid length against her. He chuckled, squeezed her a bit harder.

She spun in his arms, kissed him briefly, then slipped out of his arms, kneeling in front of him. She could see his smile in the lights from the house. His hand came to her head and she rolled her cheek into his palm, felt her body react as his thumb ran over her cheekbone.

"I think you look better in that shirt than I do," he said softly.

Her laughter filled the night, bells of liquid silver,

"Maybe, but you  are overdressed, Deputy!"

Her hands went to his belt, unfastened it, then to his button. The trousers fell loose and his boxers followed.

Leaning forward, she gave a quick kiss to the head of his manhood swaying in front of her, then rose to her feet.

"There," she said. "Now we match. I'll get the salad. Don't burn yourself with those ribs."

.

The two of them laughed and teased their way through dinner. Sofia felt as happy, as at her ease as she could remember. There was a growing sexual tension, almost palpable in the private night air, but it was a happy thing, a waiting thing, something which she knew was to be enjoyed at the right moment.

The breeze started to come up and it became cooler.

"I don't know about you, Sofia, but I don't have a tie to keep me warm. Time to go inside, I think."

Nodding, she began to stack dishes and glasses onto the tray. He followed her inside, pulled the door closed behind him.

"Give me a minute," he said. "Be right back."

Sofia began to rinse the dishes, stopped in surprise when the kitchen lights went out. She turned to see Ryan standing in the doorway, one hand on the light switch and the other holding a single lit candle.

"The dishes will wait," he said gently. "Come."

The girl smiled, dried her hands on a towel and moved gracefully towards him. He'd taken off his polo shirt, but had not lost his erection.

Approaching, she knelt gracefully before it, and in one swift motion, holding his shaft in her hand, drew him into her mouth.

She bobbed over him twice, pulled back and whispered, "Watch that candle, mister!"

She had time to see him grin before she again bent to him, rolling his crown under her tongue, sucking his length further in between her lips. Her cheeks hollowed with suction. Below, her hands fondled his balls, stroked behind them.

Then she was on her feet again, leaving his dark organ shining in the candlelight.

"I agree, Mr. Manx. The dishes will wait."

Sofia was in her full glory now, feeling utterly safe in the gaze of a man she knew loved her and would protect her.

She reached out, patted his stiff rod, lightly, with just her fingertips, as one would comfort a very young puppy.

"But this won't." She grinned at him and was pleased to see the sparkle in his eyes.

"Nor will these," he said, running his fingers lightly over her breasts. Again, she felt the fire rise begin within her, wondered at his love and skill and patience.

Sofia had been quietly, slowly but ever-increasingly stirred by Ryan's nonchalant acceptance of her game, by his soft words, his gentle manner. With that one touch, the young woman was fully, totally aroused, nipples long and hard and waiting, tummy hard, legs almost quivering. She could feel her wetness below, wondered if he could smell her lust.

Her body flowed in against his, catching his cock between their stomachs. She rolled her body, twisting it against her soft skin, then lifted her lips to his and felt his free arm close around her waist, pulling them together into a firm embrace.

He smells of smoke and man and love...

She pulled out of his arm, took him by the hand, deliberately opened her eyes as wide as she could.

"You promise no orcs under the bed?"

"I'll check, Sofia."

His laughter echoed with hers as, hand in hand, they walked up the stairway, their shadows flickering with the candle's flame. Ryan stopped by the side of the bed, held out the candle to her.

"Hold this."

With that, he knelt, swept up the bedskirt with one hand and peered underneath.

"Nope... nope... um, pass me that, would you?"

Laughing she handed him the candle. The boy made a show of further examination before rising again.

"All clear there, ma'am!' he reported. "100 percent orc-free."

She laughed, made a classic curtsy, hands on the fabric of his shirt.

Her hands moved to the red tie still around her neck, tried to unfasten it. Men always seemed to be able to remove them in an instant, but this one only seemed to get tighter. She looked over to him, standing with an amused look on his face.

"A little help, Mister?" she whispered.

"You're doing it wrong." His voice was low and she felt it in her loins.

Ryan reached out, took the lower end of the tie. Slowly twisting his wrist, he wrapped the material around his hand, pulling the girl towards him until their lips were but a fingerbreadth apart.

"You see?" he whispered. "You have to know these things."

In response, she lifted her lips to his, felt them open, felt his tongue greet hers as his fingers below untied the knot, cast the tie aside. And his hands were inside the shirt now, sweeping up her belly, over her ribs, catching her breasts in a loving grasp, lifting them and her nipples seemed to glow in the candlelight as she found his manhood, ran fingers along it.

Ryan scooped her up into his arms, shuffled to the middle of the bed on his knees, his tongue never leaving her mouth, nor her hands his warm rigid member. They fell together, laughing happily and the shirt neck was open and he was kissing her breasts now, his head pulled in by her cries and her hands and her scent.

Sofia had never felt so welcome, so cherished, had never been more ready. When Ryan moved to unfasten the cufflinks holding the shirt about her wrists, she pulled him back.

"Never mind!" she hissed. "I want you. Leave the shirt!"

He grinned, rolled to lie half-on her body. She reached between them, found him, aimed him and gave a deep sigh as he entered, the rim of his head flowing down into her delighted depths and she met him with rising hips, pinned by his sex, caught by his blue eyes, her nose filled with his odor and he plunged now, hard, driving her hips back onto the mattress.

And back up, down again and again she met him half-way up, was again driven back down and the fire inside her grew, blazed up with every stroke and a hand found a boob, found its rigid nipple, stretching and toying with it and fireworks and an arena of exultant cheering and the girl screamed happily as he again landed on her, grinding them together and she clenched inside, felt his tool jerk and shift and shudder as she filled with endless pleasure.

+

Christmas was upon them and Sofia and Ryan had decorated a real tree. She'd laid her present to him under it before going to bed.

Sofia awoke that morning in his arms, lay quietly, listening to his breathing in the morning light, smiling gently. For the first time in years, she felt at peace with herself. There would still be bumps in her road, she knew, but she was confident now.

She dozed again, awoke to find Ryan gone. She was emerging from the bathroom when he appeared, coffee in hand.

"Here," he smiled. "I heard the water running."

The girl took it from him, took a sip in thanks, then set the mug down and flowed into his arms.

"Merry Christmas, Ryan," she whispered into his chest. His hand swept gently down her back and she felt her world finally come together, a moment of tranquility after too long.

Hand in hand, the two went downstairs. Sofia gasped slightly.

Sitting on the floor immediately in front of the tree was a light brown teddy bear, perhaps 18" high. The bear was wearing a white scarf around its neck, a canvas flying helmet and small pair of old-fashioned aviator goggles tucked up over its forehead. Cupped in its paws, its stem in a small florist's tube, was a perfect red rose.

An envelope was hung around its neck with a white ribbon. She looked up at Ryan, got an encouraging grin and nod.

Almost afraid to breath, Sofia knelt in front of the bear, took the rose and sniffed it slowly, felt its gentle scent caress her mind. Smiling, she touched the creature with hesitant fingers; its fur was as soft as anything she could remember. She untied the ribbon from around its neck.

In careful calligraphic script, the note read, "My name is Ted. Would you like to fly together?" It was signed with a stylized paw-print.

She giggled, smiling brightly at Ryan, then noticed something still inside the envelope.

Her fingers fumbled a little, found it, lost it, then emerged holding it.

The ring was simple, not flamboyant. The diamond was however undoubtedly real.

Sofia's jaw dropped in amazement. She turned to the smiling boy with tears — happy tears this time — flooding her eyes. Decisions, always decisions, but this one felt good.

She stepped towards Ryan, her answer in her smile.

+

Thanks for reading. Votes and comments are keyboard fuel, so please remember to vote, if not for this story, then for one you think is better.

And, as always, my deepest gratitude to the Sofias and Ryans who have carried their burdens on our behalf, often without ceremony or acknowledgement. Far too many of them continue to do so long after justice would demand it. We sleep well because they cannot.

Lastly, my sincere thanks to Duleigh for technical overview and to my Beta reader, who already knows my gratitude.