Slipping Into Bed

Weddings are a rare occasion nowadays. People are too busy trying to stay alive and put food on the table to really think about their futures. Most people don’t believe they have a future so they don’t plan for such things, but Glenn and Maggie are making the most of it.

“I’m not just going to survive, Beth. I’m gonna live,” Maggie had said, when she told me she and Glenn were going to have an official ceremony.

She and Glenn are already married. They’d had a private, wordless, ceremony before the trouble with the Governor went down. Now they want to make if official. I think that’s more for Daddy’s sake than theirs. He’s old fashioned. It isn’t that he thinks they’re living in sin, or that their marriage is any less valid because a preacher didn’t say vows. It’s just that he thinks every couple deserves to have their love sealed with family and friends there to celebrate with them. I think that’s beautiful and I’m all for a wedding.

It’s blisteringly hot out today and I’m glad that the ceremony is going to take place tonight, in the yard, near dusk. Not only will it be pretty but it’ll be a little cooler. Everybody is running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying get last minute preparations in order, especially Daryl. He surprises me, really. I didn’t think he’d be into all this ‘love stuff’ as I heard him call it once. Carol says he’s a big softie inside. I think she’s right.

The wedding won’t be held in the front part of the yard. Nobody wants to get married with walkers moaning and gasping a few feet away. This is the basketball court where we have the occasional party and let our hair down.

“Look here,” Daryl said, pointing to the shady area near the steps. “That’s where you should put the trellis.”

Three men, Tyreese, Rick, and Zach, a boy my age who’s been trying desperately to get into my pants, are holding up the pretty trellis a man named Harold constructed. It’s sturdy and heavy, and has been brushed with some kind of sealant to keep water out. Carol, Sasha and I worked all morning to weave freshly cut flowers into the arch at the top. It takes a few minutes of hard work but they finally get it set up.

“It’s getting close to that time,” Carol says. “We need to finish getting dressed.”

Maggie’s a nervous wreck and she’s crying when I get to her cell. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve lost a few pounds to this heat and now my dress is loose,” Maggie said. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

We’d raided a few shops and gathered material for dresses. Maggie’s dress isn’t elaborate but it’s lovely. She’s chosen purple silk since the white material had gotten moldy and mildewed and couldn’t be salvaged. The golden trim is very delicate lace. Karen had made the dress and done a magnificent job.

“Don’t panic, Sweetie,” Karen says, hurrying over. “We’ll just do a few altercations. Nobody will notice.”

She winks at me. Maggie’s just nervous. She wants everything to be perfect. Rick, Glenn, and Daryl are now inside. Carol’s trying to talk Daryl into wearing the suit she’d procured for him. He staunchly refuses. He’ll come as himself or he won’t show up at all. Glenn’s slipping into his tuxedo. Rick…

Rick is wearing a brand new suit as well and he looks positively dashing. Our eyes meet and I immediately think of the…thing…we’d had going for a little while right after the Woodbury survivors arrived. I wouldn’t exactly call it an affair. It hadn’t lasted very long. It had only been me, slipping through the fences in the dark, following Rick into the woods to satisfy our needs. We had sex once and then it was over.

He still crosses my mind, especially at night, when I’m in bed and my blood is pumping and I’m aching inside for physical affection. I’ve thought of giving Zach what he wants but I don’t think he can satisfy me the way Rick can. The only problem is, Rick doesn’t want to satisfy me anymore. I don’t know if that has anything to do with my age, or with whatever he may be feeling for Michonne. Whatever it was, it is definitely over. I think there are times, like now, that what we shared is on his mind, too.

The food is ready, the chairs, such as we could find, are set up, Daddy’s used to his prosthetic now and he walks with relative ease, dressed up in a dark blue suit with a gold tie. He gives me a kiss before I go to the archway with Rick.

“Nervous?” I ask him.

“A little. I’ve never married a couple before,” he confesses.

“You’ll do fine, Officer Grimes.”

He smiles and I feel myself shiver when he places his hand on the small of my back to guide me to my place beside the arch. The flowers are starting to look a tiny bit wilted.

The crowd that’s gathered is full of now familiar faces, except for one. I miss Michonne. I wish she’d stayed for the wedding but she’s off looking for the Governor and I know she and Rick fought about it before she left this last time. She thinks she has a lead and she’s not going to lose it.

Most people are wearing their regular clothes since we couldn’t scrounge up enough material or loot enough places to find fancier dresses and suits. The only people really dressed up is the bridal party. Little Judith is wearing the cutest little pink dress I’ve ever seen, sitting on Karen’s lap, looking around at everything with that beautiful, wide-eyed wonder that only the very young possess. My own dress is the same shade as the lace on Maggie’s dress. I think it makes me look a little jaundiced but it isn’t my call.

Harold, the same man who made the trellis, is now off to the side where Daryl waits to act as Glenn’s best man. He has a violin in hand. He’s very good with lively dance tunes but today he’s dressed in his Sunday best and he starts to play the wedding march. His rendition is so eloquent I can feel it in my soul. I love the violin. I should learn to play it. Harold would probably be willing to teach me.

Daddy is leading Maggie down the aisle. People who haven’t seen her dress lightly gasp in appreciation. My smile is so big I feel my face start to cramp up. I’m so happy for my sister. I hope to have a day like this, too, but I’m not sure I’ll ever find Mr. Right.

Rick clears his throat and begins to speak after Hershel takes his seat beside Carol. “Dearly beloved, family and friends, we are gathered here today…”

…

Wine raided from a store that had been overrun by walkers is now flowing. The champagne was consumed first and now the cheaper stuff is going down everybody’s gullet like everybody is sure this is their last night on earth. The food is better than usual. A boom box is blasting the last of the new pop and country music that was released before the Turn. Everybody is dancing, drinking, eating, laughing, and having a very good time. I even spotted Carl sneaking drinks behind his dad’s back. I decided not to rat him out.

Near midnight the party winds down. There’ll be hangovers tomorrow and a huge mess to clean up. Right now we don’t care. We see Maggie and Glenn off to a room in the admin building that was set up and decorated just for them to have privacy. They need to be able to let loose and have wild, loud sex tonight. Or pass out. Whichever happens first.

I’m only a little tipsy. I drank two glasses of wine but I had it with dinner so I’m not drunk when I head to my cell. People are moving around me, going into their cells, crashing. I pass Carl’s cell and find he’s passed out in his bed. I think Rick may have cottoned on to Carl's antics but is gonna let it slide this once.

When I get to my cell I fall back on my mattress and stare at the bunk bed above me. I have a pretty secluded spot but that isn’t going to last long with all the new people we’re bringing in. I’m almost asleep when I sense someone in the cell with me. I almost jump up in a panic when Rick sits down beside me.

“You drunk?” I ask.

He shakes his head no. “Tipsy.”

“Something wrong?”

He shakes his head again. The way he’s looking at me…I have an idea what’s on his mind. I just lay there and watch him. I thought this was over. Now here he is, ‘tipsy’ and undoubtedly horny, looking at my legs. The dress has ridden up, and it’s past my thighs, almost to the point my panties are showing. Gingerly, as though ready for rejection, Rick reaches out and puts a hand on my left leg.

I’m wet immediately. I didn’t know how much I’d missed this. I part my legs, giving him better access, and look up at the corridor. He’s closed the privacy curtain and shut the cell door. Not all the way so that it’s locked, but enough to signify not to disturb me. His fingertips brush my swollen clit, sending an ache deep into my pussy. A sound escapes my lips. It’s an approving sound that encourages him.

Rick begins working down my panties and shoving up my dress.

“Beth…” he sighs. “I’ve missed this…”

His mouth finds me. I have to bite my lips to keep from moaning. I know everybody’s drunk and passed out but I don’t want to wake anyone. Back when we’d sneak off to the wood I could make more noise. I didn’t have to hide my pleasure. It’s different now. My hands end up fisted in his hair and I come almost at once, my pussy rippling deep inside from an intense orgasm.

Rick’s kissing his way up my body now, pulling my dress down to free my tits. My nipples are hard and sensitive. He rolls his tongue over them and I can smell the soap he’d showered in mixed with sweat, and wine, and smoke from the cookfires. It’s a heady and enjoyable melange of scents.

His weight is heavy above me now. I wrap my legs around him and feel him at my entrance. I pull him down and he sinks into me, moaning as I take every inch of him inside. He starts to move, slowly, tortuously slow, just taking a moment to enjoy being inside of me. That doesn’t last. His need to come is great and he begins thrusting fast and hard. His sweat drips onto me. I bite his shoulder, trying to stifle my urge to cry out as he pounds into me. When I come this time it’s explosive and wet around his cock. I feel his orgasm in the shivers of his body and hear it in the powerful cry he releases into the pillow, but I don’t feel his semen. I hadn’t even noticed him putting on a condom.

When it’s over Rick gets up and fixes his clothes. He remains on the side of the bed for a few minutes, catching his breath, looking at the floor. I don’t see guilt. We’re long past that. I touch his back and he smiles slightly. He gives me a light kiss.

“If you need me, you know where I am,” he says. Then he’s gone and I’m lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, smiling, satisfied in more ways than just the physical.

That’s an invitation. This doesn’t have to be over. I can make the next move if I want.

I think I want.