Sunkissed

"You're ... good at this," Sophia said with another girlish whimper.

Joseph did not reply. He was well occupied with his task, and he'd picked up his pace while Sophia spoke, orchestrating unto her a grand crescendo of delight and pleasure. He rested his nose against her mons as his tongue brushed up and down her cunt in faster but no less firm strokes. The fierce pleasure had Sophia's heart thumping hard, her pulse pounding behind her brows, and she struggled to find the lungfuls of air to take the deep breaths she needed. Joseph's other hand caressed her inner thigh as his tongue made love to her flower, and he frequently ventured upwards to kiss and lick the sensitive hood of her clitoris. Before long, Sophia was moaning at the top of her lungs. The sound of it was sharp enough to force Joseph to briefly turn his blue eyes upwards, to Sophia's face, but the expression he found was not a pained one. As his eyes looked directly to hers, Joseph moved both of his hands to her chest and closed them around her breasts, fondling her as he tongued her, and though his fingers no longer kept her flower spread, Joseph's tongue had no trouble slipping deep into the slit of her pussy, licking and stroking her everywhere it did before. His tongue circled rhythmically inside her clitoral hood, surrounding her button with strokes so pleasurable that they were damned near painful.

When the deep heat inside her flesh grew too strong to bear, the pressure in Sophia's loins ignited as that lute's string blissfully burst, and she sharply arched her back and cried out as she was flooded with molten-hot pleasure. Her body seized up, her thighs tightened, her muscles clenched, her eyes jammed shut, and her hands darted downwards to clamp through Joseph's hair. Joseph did not slow his efforts as his lover flew on her newfound wings, and in thanks to that, the contractions that shook Sophia's core came one after the other. When she had no more breath to continue her moan, she drove her top teeth hard into her bottom lip, and when her body finally returned to her control, she filled her lungs in one deep, gasping breath. After the contractions subsided and the last of the burning pleasure finally seceded into a peaceful sea of euphoria, Sophia collapsed onto the flat of her back, dropping her head into the cushion of Joseph's woolen pillows, with loose strands of her long hair tousled over her face. Her arms fell limp at her sides, and her chest heaved with slow, calmed breaths. With the intense bliss having faded, a soothing, pleasant warmth swirled within her, and every touch of her skin felt gentle and airy. The soft wool of Joseph's bed beneath her felt like a cloud, and how fitting that was. There wasn't a more appropriate place for her angel to drop her.

Sophia felt that cloud shift as Joseph climbed over her. He brushed the hair from her face before bringing his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly and gently, and at the touch of his lips, Sophia opened her eyes. Joseph's soon followed suit, and the look Sophia found within them was a passionate one, his brilliant, blue eyes swimming with love, adoration ... and need. Sophia smiled at the sight of it. She knew he had not yet spent his lust. The night was not over. There was yet a plunge still to take.

Not knowing the words to urge him onwards, Sophia ran one of her hands down Joseph's body, down his shoulder, over his hard chest, and all the way to his trousers, all while keeping her eyes on his. That was enough to spur him.

Joseph reared back, onto his knees. He took his hands to his belt and unfastened it. He tugged his trousers to his knees and raised his legs one at a time as he freed them, and he pulled off his shoes before tossing them and his trousers off the bed and onto the floor. Sophia could see the large bulge in his white breeches, and Joseph soon pulled them down as well. His manhood sprung free, fully erect, standing tall and stiff, and Sophia's eyes could not help but to linger on it. It was long and thick, with a crown significantly wider than the shaft. A thicket of brown, curly hairs was nestled around the base of it, partly obscuring his taut balls. Joseph was larger than Sophia had expected him to be -- much larger -- but that could've just been from her own ignorance. She had never seen a man's cock before, and her only reference for the size of it was her own slim cunt on her own small body. Joseph was a large man, and his member matched that.

Joseph grabbed his cock by its base and put his knees down between Sophia's open legs. His cockhead glanced against her inner thigh as he shifted closer to her, and in that brief touch, Sophia felt how hot it was. She grabbed her legs under her knees and held them apart, opening herself to Joseph, allowing him to position himself over her. Joseph jabbed an arm into the bed beside her waist to keep himself steady, and he and Sophia looked downwards and watched together as he eased his hips forward, guiding his cock towards her, bringing it nearer and nearer. Pleasure flickered in Sophia's loins as Joseph pushed through her outer lips, towards the entrance of her tunnel, and the thick head of his cock caught only briefly on her maidenhead before it finally tore through, deflowering her. Sophia felt not even a single painful pinch as his cock pushed into her, only a faint, gentle humming of pleasure. Despite how snug their joined flesh was, Sophia's soaked wetness gave Joseph easy passage, and with more pressure from his hips, his cock pushed smoothly through her tight sheath. Sophia could feel her walls give way around Joseph's hot length, inch by inch, till he was hilted inside her and the hairs of his crotch tickled her cunt.

They turned their heads upwards and looked to each other's faces.

"Does it hurt?" Joseph asked as concern flashed in his gaze.

Sophia shook her head, looking to him with eyes wide with lust and wonder. "No," she whispered.

Joseph was so thick inside Sophia; thick, stiff, hard and hot. Her cunt was a close fit around his cock, wet and welcoming but snug and gripping. With him hilted inside her, there was this intense feeling of ... fullness. Joseph's member pushed against her walls from every direction. Sophia could feel his length throb with the beat of his heart.

Joseph began slowly drawing back, pulling his cock from Sophia's grasping lips, till most of his length was free of her depths and only his crown still remained within her. When they glanced downwards, Sophia saw his member shining with her wetness. The sight of it was ... satisfying. Immensely satisfying. The most intimate of Joseph's flesh was marked by hers. Sophia swelled with more than just lust at the thought of it.

Joseph planted his other arm into the bed and lowered himself, bringing his body closer to Sophia's. With Joseph between her open legs, Sophia took her hands from her knees and instead put them against his chiseled chest, marveling at the muscled, masculine shape of it. Then, just as slowly as he'd withdrawn himself, Joseph pushed his cock back inside her, and with a few more similar strokes back and forth, he'd established a slow, steady pace of smooth, sensual lovemaking. Sophia's moist lips dragged along his length with every stroke; pushed inside her with every thrust inward and pulled outwards with every withdraw. When pleasure began thrumming again in her loins, Sophia felt an uncontrollable urge to speak, and though she was tempted to eagerly babble 'I love you,' she instead decided on something else.

"Joseph," she moaned. "Joseph. Joseph."

Joseph gave a breathy groan as he eased his member in and out of Sophia's warm, wet cunt, and Sophia felt him stiffen harder within her. She could see the pleasure in his face, in his slackened jaw and lustful eyes, and that visible lust soon swelled. Joseph's thrusts quickened, and his hips audibly clapped into Sophia's as he hilted himself inside her with every swift stroke. Once slim and little, Sophia's wet, yielding pussy gaped around Joseph's thick cock as he fucked her. He took her with deep but fast thrusts, emboldened with lust, pounding her hard enough to make her breasts bounce on her chest. The intensity quickly sharpened Sophia's moans. She entwined her legs behind Joseph's back, eager for his passion.

The end was sudden. Joseph rocked Sophia's body with a final thrust as he bottomed out and pressed his balls into her bum, pushing his cockhead to the deepest of her depths, and he gave a last, long groan as his gut visibly tensed with his climax. Sophia felt his cock jump and twitch inside her, emptying itself of his lust. Joseph closed his eyes and eased his body down onto Sophia's, resting his forehead against hers. His cock gave a few final twitches, but as Joseph finally lost the breath to groan, it fell still.

Sophia draped her arms over Joseph's neck as she tilted her head and brought her lips up to his, kissing him with all the affection she could muster.

"I love you," she whispered when she pulled away, gazing into his eyes.

"I love you too," Joseph whispered back, meeting her gaze.

Joseph reared back, taking his body from atop Sophia's, and he gave a quiet gasp as he drew out his sensitive length. When his cock left her, Sophia felt his seed follow him, drooling out of her tunnel and seeping down the crack of her arse. It was warm, and it ran like a river. Joseph's chest still heaved with heavy breaths when he swung his feet over the bed and stood upwards. As Sophia lay there and watched Joseph go to his dresser, she suddenly realized how incredibly tired she'd become. She slipped under the bedcovers as Joseph blew out the candles atop his dresser, till only the one that stood closest to them still burned. When he returned to her, Sophia scooted onto her side to make room for him. Joseph slipped in bed behind her, and Sophia sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head against her hair. When she closed her eyes, she knew sleep would soon come.

- - -

Sophia awoke to the morning tolling of the city's bells. Five-o'-clock. The city would be fully alive before six. Markets would be bustling. Workers would be shouting, and their children would be laughing.

The early sun stabbed at Sophia's closed eyes through the bedroom window's blinds, spurring her wider awake. She yawned as she gingerly opened her eyes, squinting at first. Joseph's arms were still wrapped around her waist, and she could still feel his head resting against the back of hers. She considered staying in bed, in Joseph's embrace, but a strong urge to pee suddenly reared its head, and it would not be denied. She eased Joseph's arms off of her and peeled back the bed's sheets and blankets. She touched her feet down on the floor's fur rug and hurriedly scampered out into the hall and into the privy.

When she finished with the chamber pot and stood her feet, Sophia noticed a feeling of stickiness in the crack of her arse. After she realized what it was, she took a cloth rag from the shelf and wiped away Joseph's dried seed. There was quite a lot of it, and even after wiping the last of it off, a faint feeling of stickiness prevailed. As well as Joseph's sheets needing washing, Sophia figured she'd need a bath at some point. Perhaps she could gather water in a tub for her and Joseph to share? Or maybe they could splurge on a private room at a bathhouse? Both were possible. Sophia liked the thought of either.

Sophia returned to Joseph's bedroom, where she found that he had not awoken. He had not even moved. He still lay on his side facing the door, in the same position she'd left him in. He was certainly alive, though. His chest still moved. He had not fucked Sophia to his own death. Not yet, anyways, she thought with a smirk.

Sophia flipped open her trunk and threw on undergarments and a simple brown-and-white dress. When she was clothed, she went to Joseph's dresser and blew out the still-burning candle, saving what little wax was left. She left for the hall again and walked to the kitchen. As she stood there, eyeing the kitchen table, she decided she would cook them breakfast.

Sophia had never once cooked in her life, but she'd watched her father's servants do it many times. It couldn't be too hard. Firstly, she took a leather hair tie from her trunk in the bedroom and weaved her hair into a single, long tail, and with that done, she returned to the kitchen and flipped open each drawer and cabinet to examine what -- if any -- foodstuffs Joseph had on-hand. There wasn't much ... but there was enough for a stew. The large black pot dangling over the hearth was thankfully already full with water, and it was a simple enough task to use the tinderbox to get the hearth's coals burning. Sophia chopped up two carrots, half a potato, a salt-preserved strip of venison, and plopped it all into the pot. Using every spice in his cabinets, she added one pinch each of basil, parsley, and pepper. She grabbed a wooden ladle and stirred the stew well with each new addition.

It wasn't a King or a Lord's stew, but it was something. She wasn't sure if she'd done it quite right, but it looked edible.

After the stew had been simmering for thirty or so minutes, Sophia dipped the ladle into the pot and slurped from it. She nodded. It was decent. It would suffice. It might not amaze Joseph, but Sophia never knew him to be a picky eater. She was just glad to have made something palatable.

Sophia let the stew simmer for more than an hour total, till the chunks of venison were tender. When she was confident the stew was finished, she gathered some of it into two bowls and set them on opposite sides of the kitchen table. She then took the biscuit loaf that sat on the corner of the countertop and pulled it into two pieces, intentionally tearing one into a noticeably larger chunk than the other. Joseph would certainly need to eat more than her, being of such larger stature. Sophia's appetite had always been a meager one anyways.

Just as she began to wonder when Joseph would finally awaken, Sophia heard his footsteps, and she turned towards the hall. Joseph stood at the far end of the kitchen from her, wearing only a pair of beige breeches. He still looked half-asleep, his eyes groggy and half-lidded, his hand idly itching the hairs of his bare chest.

"The corpse rises," Sophia quipped with a smile. "And here I'd just started to mourn you." She took Joseph's arm and guided him to his seat at the table. "I cooked a stew for us," she said as he sat in the chair. "And there's plenty left, if you're still hungry after that bowl."

Sophia took her own seat across from him. They both dipped their bread into their stew and took a bite, but Sophia chewed slowly, as she was more interested in seeing Joseph's reaction. Fearing the worst, she watched for a grimace or a blatantly disgusted furrowing of his brows ... but that reaction never came, and Joseph's expression held plain and unfazed as he ate.

They ate in silence. Sophia would've made small talk, but she wasn't sure what she ought to speak of. She wondered if maybe she ought to ask how they'll spend the day? Perchance ask if he would want to view a performance at the theater? No ... no, that was too pestering. Joseph had worked a long week on watch, and what he deserved was a quiet Saturday morning, not one of being badgered with questions. And if Joseph wanted to go nowhere at all, then Sophia would gladly join him in a relaxing day at home.

"Sophia," Joseph suddenly said. His voice was hoarse and croaky, and he audibly cleared his throat after that first word.

Sophia's eyes quickly flicked upwards from her bowl.

"I ... I had a thought when I awoke," Joseph muttered. "And I want to tell you it. I imagine it'll seem strange ... but I want to say it."

Sophia swallowed her mouthful of food. "Alright," she said softly.

"When I was younger," Joseph started, speaking slowly, taking time for each word, "My father told me the true test of a guardsman isn't how strong he is. It isn't how hard or fast he can swing his sword, or how heavy a barrel he can lift. He said the true test of a guardsman is whether he can give his life to save another. For the longest time, that thought frightened me. I'd gladly fight for someone, to protect those who can't protect themselves ... but ... to sacrifice myself for someone ... I couldn't fathom it. I know I'd go to God, but ... I just didn't want to die. I still don't. But ..."

Joseph burned his gaze into Sophia's.

"... I want you to know," he said. "I'd die for you."

Sophia opened her mouth, but no words came. Joseph looked back to his bowl and resumed eating.

"I love you," Sophia said, finally finding her voice.

Joseph glanced up at her and smiled. "I love you too."

- - -

Sunday night came so soon. The weekend was already nearing its close. The sun was gone, and Sophia had candles burning throughout the flat.

Sophia folded Joseph's clothes on his bed and tucked them into his dresser, organizing his shirts, trousers, and breeches into their own drawers. She'd washed them the night before and had left them to dry on a clothesline. Joseph had assured her that she need not feel any obligation to do so, but she insisted. Sophia had felt this strange sort of satisfaction when she'd cooked them that breakfast the day before, and as she predicted, tending to his wardrobe gave her that same feeling. For all eighteen years of her life she'd been waited on hand and foot by her father's butler and maids, and for her to take charge and actually do something herself, it felt almost ... liberating. Maybe she'd tire of it eventually, but if nothing else, it made for a refreshing change of pace. And Sophia had daydreamed of her future with Joseph oft enough to know what it would entail, and she knew that, unless she took coin from her father, which she did not intend to do, there would be no servants waiting on them. Perchance Madelyn would never agree to that sort of existence, but Sophia was no such delicate flower.

When she slipped the last pair of folded breeches into its drawer, Sophia heard a pounding at the flat's entry door. Her heart briefly fluttered with joy at the thought of Joseph returning home from his nine-to-nine shift, but that joy faded when she realized it likely wasn't him. Why would he pound on his own door, to which he has a key?

Sophia hurried to the door and unfastened its lock before swinging it open. Her eyes were instinctively peering at an upwards angle, being accustomed to looking up at Joseph, but it took her an awkward moment to realize to look downwards, where she found a young boy, a postboy, judging by the telltale satchel opposite the lit lantern at his waist. He was tan-skinned and garbed in unkempt clothes, with a head of black, short-cut hair, big, green eyes, and cheeks marred with flecks of dirt. An 'island child.' There were other words for him as well -- ethnic slurs -- but Sophia did what she could to keep those from her mind. She'd been called those words oft enough herself.

"Sophia Thomas?" the boy chirped.

"Um ... yes," Sophia mumbled.

"This is for you."

The boy brandished from his satchel a rolled scroll bound with a tied string, and he held it to Sophia with an outstretched arm.

"Are you sure this isn't for Joseph Beckham?" Sophia questioned as she took the scroll from him.

"No, milady," he answered with a shake of his head. "I was told to give it to Sophia Thomas."

"How did you know I was ..." Sophia paused when the boy turned and scampered away. "... here."

Sophia closed the door and fastened its lock. She sat at the kitchen table and untied the scroll's string. She unrolled it and held it before her eyes.

To my darling Sophia,

I pen this letter to you to inform you that I am leaving the city. The Lord has urgent business in the Capital and I must accompany him. I am not certain when we will return. By the end of the month, I would presume. As you well know by reading this, I am aware that you are with Joseph and that his home was your true destination. Do not bother asking how I know. I'm your father. It's my job to know you're safe. And needless to note, you have my blessing. Joseph is a good man, and you and I both know that he loves you dearly. He holds you deep in his heart, just as I do, and there is no man I trust more with your wellbeing. I suspect that you may now be desiring to make Joseph's home your own, and if that's true, know that it's fully within your right. But also know that you'll always have a bed under my roof, should you need it. Enjoy yourself, my darling, and give Joseph my regards.