I remember this quite well. It happened about two years ago. At the end of winter, my boyfriend had just taken me on a trip to the United States, to California. But then, once we came back, he broke up with me right afterward. It was such a roller coaster! I wanted to distract myself with work.

I don’t follow world politics much, but when the country bordering ours was invaded by its larger neighbour, I had to pay attention to the news. Cities were razed to the ground. Surgeons had to operate on the floor in metro stations while hiding from bombs. It was surreal. As a Catholic, I was particularly upset to see ruined churches.

Millions of women and children had to leave. Our country was the main destination for the refugees. Our faith teaches us that the Lord dwells with those who welcome strangers, so our church community got to work. The school gym became a temporary shelter. We provided groceries, medical supplies, and help with visa applications.

On a Saturday in March, I was browsing a local social media group and saw an ad from a lady named Ganna, who offered cleaning services. Obviously one of the refugees. I was about to clean my apartment, but then I thought, “Why not hire this person?” So, I called her. She told me that she already had many requests for that day and could only come in the evening. She sounded abrasive, almost rude. Her English was poor, but her voice had a warmth and softness to it, like a cozy blanket.

I made the appointment and gave her my address. She arrived at our agreed time. She was about my age, but almost 2 meters tall, with broad shoulders and hips. She looked like a Valkyrie, a mythological female warrior. Her face was sharp and angular, with a high cheekbone and a prominent nose. Her lips were plump and soft, and her eyes were blue like the ocean. She was wearing a tight tank top, which accentuated her muscled arms and broad chest. She looked like she could easily lift me up and throw me around like a rag doll.

I showed my small one-bedroom apartment to her, and she got to work. I thought that I was a pretty clean girl, and my apartment did not need much work, but I was mistaken. Ganna cleaned the corners of the walls, the underside of the bed, the cracks between the tiles. She was meticulous and thorough. I watched her work, fascinated by her muscles and her movements. Once she was done, the apartment was sparkling clean.

She looked at me and said, "Good?" I nodded and offered her tea. She refused. 'Must go,' she said, 'now late.' I gave her cash for the job, a bit more than what she initially asked for. She counted the money and seemed offended. “I set price, you pay price,” she said, returning the extra money to me, "No charity!" I nodded again. "Okay. But are you sure you don't want some tea?" It was as if some force beyond me made me want her to stay a bit longer.

She looked at me warmly. "Dirty," she said, "Can't drink tea dirty." I offered her to take a shower at my place. She agreed. When she walked out of the shower, she looked refreshed. She had changed her clothes. Apparently, she had a spare pair of jeans and a fresh tank top in her bag. I poured tea and offered her cookies. She ate them ravenously. She was like a giant, filling the room with her presence.

Then she stood up and came closer to the window. She said, "I miss home. So cold here." This was unexpected. I did not now how to react. I stood up besides her and asked politely what she missed the most. She responded, "My friend. She's a medic. In the army. Wanted me go. Not safe. You have friend?"

"No," I responded, "my boyfriend left me." Her blue eyes looked at me with such warmth and empathy. It felt as if they were penetrating deep inside me, reaching parts of me that I thought had died long ago. It was as if she was seeing the real me, the true me, without any masks or facades. It was both terrifying and liberating. I knew that I was safe with her. She would never judge me.

"I miss him", - I said. "Poor girl. Garbage man", - she said. She hugged me. "Poor girl", she repeated. I felt so safe in her arms. Her muscles were hard as steel, but her touch was gentle. Oh, the irony of the situation! She had to flee the war leaving her loved ones. But she was comforting me. And it felt so good.

When she was embracing me, my nose accidentally touched her nipple through the fabric of her tank top. I wanted to pull away, but she left out a soft moan and smiled. "Naughty," she said, "Do it more." That sounded like an order, and I was happy to comply. I continued tickling her nipples with my nose feeling them harden. I pulled up her tank top and her bra and started licking her nipples. She moaned again.

She put her hand on my head and pressed me to her breast. She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. Then she leaned forward and kissed me. She was aggressive, and I liked that. She pushed me on the bed and pulled down my jeans and panties. "Poor girl", she said, "You forget garbage man". And she spread my legs in one sharp movement.

Her tongue was like a snake, moving rapidly, searching for my clit. She found it and sucked it hard. I gasped. She inserted her finger inside me and started moving it back and forth. She was so strong and powerful, like a warrior. She was conquering me. I grabbed her head and pressed it harder against my pussy. She was licking and fingering me furiously, using her teeth to gently nibble at my clit, while her fingers were dancing inside me.

Gradually, I could feel my orgasm approaching. She was persistent. The rhythm of her movement was sharp, cruelly unyielding. I was moving closer to the edge, ready to jump into the abyss of pleasure. Her fingers moved faster and faster inside me, and her tongue was working wonders. I started squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples.

I could feel it coming. It was like a tsunami, a giant wave that was about to crash on the shore. I felt my whole body shaking. My muscles were clenched. I could not control myself anymore. I let go of any inhibitions and surrendered to the pleasure. It was as if I was flying, soaring high above the sky. It was a moment of pure ecstasy.

Minutes later, I was still shaking, and my clit was pulsating. She looked at me with a smile and said, "Forgot garbage man?". I nodded. "You remind my friend," she said with sudden sadness. "Must go," she added. She put on her clothes, hugged me, smiled, and left.

I tried to find her later, but her phone was unresponsive. When I asked my friends from the church about her, they said immediately after that day, she collected her belongings and took the first train back to her country, mentioning something about missing her friend, an army medic.

I haven't heard from her since then. I hope she's okay.