Sunkissed

With undying love, your father, Charles Mathias Thomas

Sophia rolled up the scroll. A smile curled along her lips.

The door clicked behind her, and it swung open right as Sophia stood to her feet and turned to face it. Joseph did not spot her as he closed the door behind him, and when he turned towards her, Sophia was upon him, grabbing him and greeting him with a brief but deep kiss. But when she pulled away -- still holding his shoulders -- she saw the expression on his face, and it was not what she had thought she'd see. His eyes were somber, and he was nearly frowning. Before Sophia could ask what troubled him, Joseph spoke first.

"I don't want you to leave tomorrow," he said, shaking his head. His eyes held a weakness Sophia had never seen from him. "I ... I need you, Sophia. I need you with me when I sleep. I need you beside me when I wake up. I can't go a night without you, not now that—"

—Sophia silenced him with a kiss, and she kept her lips against his for a long, long while, until she was certain Joseph's worries were at least partly eased. When she broke away, she cupped each of his cheeks in her hands. "Wherever you are, that's where I'll be," she whispered to him. "Whatever bed you use, that's where I'll sleep. From this day until our last."

"Your father ... he won't want you to stay."

Sophia smiled again. "He wants what I want," she said. "And I want to stay."

Joseph pulled her into another kiss, a deep one this time, and Sophia sighed as their tongues brushed together. "I burn for you," Joseph whispered between kisses, his voice throaty and raspy. "I think of you every minute ... of every hour. I think of your face ... the smell of your hair ... I think of your body ... your cunt. My lust for you is a fire unending."

Sophia held his face to keep his lips from hers for a moment. "It's alright, my love," Sophia reassured him in a whisper, smirking. "You're home now," she said as she stroked his cheek. "Give me your fire."

Not a moment after the last word left her, Joseph clutched Sophia's back and bottom in his hands as he heaved her upwards, lifting her off the ground, and Sophia giggled as she locked her legs around him. Joseph took her to the kitchen table and carelessly brushed away the scroll, wooden bowl and tablecloth that rested on it. He laid Sophia on her back atop the table, and with hungry hands he assisted her in quickly shedding her of all her clothes. Her breasts came free from her brassiere with a light jiggle, and when her panties were all that remained, Joseph greedily pulled them down and yanked them off her feet. Sophia took the hair tie from her ponytail and fluffed her freed hair behind herself with both hands, draping her long, brown locks across the table and down the opposite side of it. Joseph disrobed no less swiftly, pulling off his shoes, throwing off his vest and shirt, and tugging down his trousers. His sword and scabbard hit the floor with a loud clang and thud.

When they were both nude, Joseph grabbed Sophia's hips and pulled her closer to the table's edge. He brought her legs up and rested them on his shoulders, and he ran two of his fingers against the flat of his tongue before lowering them to her crotch and rubbing them along her hairless slit. Sophia gasped at the tickle of pleasure. The added moisture wasn't needed, as Joseph then certainly realized, and his fingers left her pussy wetter than they were. His erect cock poked against her inner thigh, and Joseph promptly closed his hand around the base of it and guided it to her gash. With her legs close like they were, her pussy's puffy folds stayed pressed together, and the lips of her cunt were tucked between them, into a deep slit. Wetness leaked from the little hole of her tunnel, and it took no effort for Joseph's cock to push inside it.

Her hot tunnel opened and widened around him as Joseph thrusted into her in one quick, hilting stroke, sheathing all of himself inside her, and that same tingling warmth Sophia had come to love flushed outwards from her loins as his cock filled her. Joseph showed no patience -- nor did Sophia want him to -- and the moment his crown prodded against the barrier of the winking entrance to her womb, he drew back the entirety of his length only to promptly slot himself back inside her and rhythmically repeat the process anew, fucking her good and hard. Sophia's breasts swayed up and down on her chest, and the table creaked noisily beneath her. Joseph held his arm around her legs and kept them clutched against his chest, and with his other hand, he reached for one of her swaying breasts and groped it, deeply squeezing the warm, pliant flesh as he teased her stiff, dark nipple in his fingers. Echoes of pleasure sang throughout Sophia's body, and she gave girlish whimpers and whines as she clenched her fists and bunched her arms together on each side of her breasts.

"Joseph," Sophia moaned. "Oh, Joseph, Joseph, Joseph."

She liked to voice his name while he fucked her, to remind herself who was inside her. It strengthened her pleasure. Joseph never spoke when they made love, but it wasn't needed to know what he felt. His expressions, whether it be a bitten lip or a slackened jaw, and the breaths from his lungs, whether they be short, pleased grunts or lengthy, ragged groans, betrayed his bliss. He felt the same pleasure Sophia did. Maybe more.

Though Sophia could still count the times they'd made love on one hand, she already knew that this was how she preferred it: with Joseph in charge of the thrusting, with him in control of the rhythm of their love, with herself at the mercy of his lust and his fiery passion.

Joseph pummeled his hips against Sophia's thighs and bum, noisily clapping his flesh against hers, and as he claimed her cunt with deep, forceful thrusts, a strange but pleasant throbbing she did not recognize began pulsing inside her. It was a stronger pleasure than she had known when Joseph fucked her, and it took her a moment to recognize what it was. With herself flat on her back and Joseph on his feet, the erect, upwards curvature of his cock made his crown press firmly against the roof of her tunnel with every strong thrust, and it stimulated something sensitive inside her that Sophia did not know was there, and with each thrust, increasingly hot pleasure flared inside her. Eager to enhance that pleasure, Sophia slid one of her hands down her body to the puffy mound of her pussy. She rubbed her forefinger over the hood of her clitoris, and that worked wonderfully to intensify every pulse of pleasure that came as Joseph pounded his cock through her snug sheath. When Sophia dared to dip her finger into her slit and encircle her sensitive button inside its hood, she swiftly ascended to her peak.

When Joseph looked to Sophia's face and saw it scrunched in pleasure -- her eyes narrowed, her lip bitten -- he ceased his groping of her breast and took ahold of her free hand, tightly curling his fingers through hers.

Sophia's body clenched as a burning bliss ignited within her. Her cunt rhythmically tightened in her climax, squeezing down on Joseph's cock, and that brought him to his end. Joseph gave his final thrust as he joined her in orgasm, rocking Sophia's body as he bottomed out inside her and pressed his crown against her womb. She could feel his member pulse against her clenching inner walls, spurting his seed deep within her.

They held there motionless for a long while, their chests heaving, as they listened to nothing more than the sound of their weary breathing.

Much later, Joseph pulled his hand from Sophia's breast and slid that arm beneath the small of her back as he lifted her up. When he brought her into his embrace, Sophia grabbed Joseph's shoulders and again entwined her legs around his hips as she closed her eyes and pressed her lips over his. With her firmly held against him, Joseph strode through the kitchen and down the hall, into his bedroom. His eyes closed like Sophia's, he used a single hand as a sort of blind man's walking stick to guide him around the corners. At his bed, he eased himself onto his back on the thick, soft covers, with his and Sophia's lips still connected in a gentle kiss. Joseph rolled to his side, taking Sophia with him, and he finally broke their kiss. They opened their eyes at last and looked to each other as they simply shared the comfort of each other's gazes. After it softened, Joseph's member finally slipped from her, and Sophia felt his warm seed trickle down the side of her thigh.

Sophia took her hand from Joseph's shoulder and grazed her fingers along his cheek as her eyes flitted across his face.

"Sophia," Joseph whispered, and her eyes promptly locked with his. "You said you wanted us to be lovers." He paused and lightly shook his head. "I don't want to be lovers."

Sophia's brows lowered, and her fingers fell still on his cheek.

"I want to be more," he whispered.

Sophia smiled. "Then we'll be more," she whispered back.

- - -

Five years later,

Sophia followed Joseph as he walked through the hall to the bedroom across from their own. He clutched their girls in each of his arms, Brianna in his left and Emmelyn in his right. Their long, brown hair was brushed smooth, free of knots. Though Emmelyn was still too young for it, Brianna was already brushing hers herself.

The autumn was proving to be a cold one, and the girls were each clothed in thick, wool nightrobes Sophia had sewn for them. Their tired, half-lidded eyes glimmered in the soft candlelight, Brianna's being the blue of her father and Emmelyn's being the green of her mother. Held against him, their faces' color visibly contrasted Joseph's. Their skin was a few shades lighter than Sophia's, but she knew there was no mistaking their islander heritage. And that's alright. Brianna and Emmelyn knew nothing about race, and if Joseph and Sophia were to have it their way, they never truly would. As far as they knew, there was only one word to describe the curiousness of their color, and it wasn't 'tanskin' or even 'mixblood.' It was simply 'sunkissed.'

Brianna already dreamed of what she will do when she 'gets big.' A few months ago she wanted to be a harpist, now she yearned to be a harpist and an actress. Quite a busy life that'd be. It was strange ... Sophia couldn't recall ever dreaming of her future in the way Brianna did, not when she was little, nor when she was a teen. Just how truly limited had her insecurities rendered her thoughts? If she could take back those wasted worries on the color of her skin ... but it couldn't be changed now. Brianna and Emmelyn would not be that way, and that's what mattered.

The girls rested their heads under their father's stubbled jaw as he carried them through the doorway. They yawned tiredly, ready for sleep. These being the same two girls that were sprinting around the flat just half an hour earlier. Joseph's fatherly touch was an amazing sight. Brianna and Emmelyn would so oft be endless storms of energy at their bedtime, but as soon as Joseph came home from his watch and held them in his arms, they became tranquil. It never failed. Sophia hadn't any idea how Joseph did it, but she was glad for it. Joseph was a great husband, but somehow, he was an even better father. He was only a man of twenty-four, and yet fatherhood came so naturally to him.

In their bedroom, Joseph strode to the girls' shared bed. He laid them down, tucked the heavy bedcovers under their chins, and kissed their cheeks.

"Love you, Papa," the girls said in unison before closing their eyes.

'Lohve.' They spoke with the commoner accent.

"And I love you," Joseph replied.

He left their side and strode to their dresser, where a row of six lit candles stood. He blew them out until only one remained, leaving just enough light for Bri and Emmie to see where whey walk, should they need to rise during the night to use the chamber pot. It wasn't for the sake of any fear of the dark. The girls feared nothing, not with their father just across the hall.

Joseph returned to Sophia in the doorway. She smiled at him and cupped his face, running her fingers along his coarse stubble. Joseph had let it grow for the first time a few years ago. Sophia once wasn't sure about it, but she'd since come to love it. It was ... masculine. He still had his thick curls of hair, and that Sophia would never let him change.

Joseph's stubble was marred by a small, pinkish scar on the left side of his jaw, a keepsake and reminder of a man Joseph was left no choice but to cut down. That killing weighed heavy on Joseph's soul -- Sophia could still see it in his eyes -- but she rarely saw him sullen. The girls gave him solace. 'My angels,' he called them.

As Sophia cupped his cheek, Joseph in turn rested his hand over the swell of her stomach. She was thirty weeks along. Another daughter, Sophia sensed. Joseph had his doubts of that, but she'd been right about Bri and Emmie. God deemed to give her daughters, it seemed. The old Sophia would've dreaded that, to have to be an example for younger girls, but not Sophia as she was now. She was glad the girls had her to guide them. She knew it was a blessing to be able to do for them what her own mother wasn't able to do for her.

Sophia and Joseph made their way to their bedroom, closing both the girls' door and their own door behind them. They'd moved into a flat with two bedrooms a floor below Joseph's old one not long after Brianna was born, just over four years ago now.

Only one candle flickered away within their bedroom, sitting on the dresser. Joseph disrobed first, and Sophia followed suit. Joseph ran his eyes and hands along her nude form, caressing her shoulders, cupping her sensitive breasts, traveling the wide curves of her hips, and again finding the great swell of her pregnancy. Joseph's body had changed little in the past five years, but Sophia could not say the same. Hers was noticeably different from when they'd first made love. The changes were subtle but sure. Her breasts had swollen, her nipples had darkened, and her hips had widened; all of the boon of motherhood. But none of that made for any boost of Sophia's confidence, nor did she need it to be. That was simply as nature was. Her crotch was still smooth and bald of hair, but that was from her own independent choice, not from any need for self-assurance. Waxing was not the pain or the hassle it once was, and she'd come to be fond of the smoothness.

Sophia's hands grazed over Joseph's firm chest, and her eyes followed her fingers as they raked through his body's hair and moved along the noticeable muscles of his abdomen down towards his crotch, where her fingers gently coiled around the stiff base of his cock. It was hot with blood, needy and lustful, longing to be sheathed inside her. As she smoothly brought her hand up and down his length, Sophia smirked at the thought that she'd ever once feared to do this: to know Joseph's flesh, and to let him know hers. This nighttime ritual had become essential to her life. Parenthood may have limited the fire of their passion to a time of the day, but it certainly did not dim it. And though she didn't think it to be possible, Joseph's fatherliness only made Sophia's lust burn hotter for him.

Their eyes eventually returned upwards, and they smiled warmly as they gazed at each other. Joseph put his hands to Sophia's hips as she backpedaled towards their bed. Standing at its edge, she draped her arms over his neck and began lowering herself onto her back, but just before she did, Sophia raised herself again and captured Joseph's lips in a loving kiss.