Sweat on Skin

Rick was so shocked by what he was seeing that he had to simply stand there and try to absorb it.


Had he walked by Beth Greene's cell on of his late night strolls (something he'd done literally hundreds of times without incident) heard a sound other than a snore coming from behind the curtain, and looked in to see Daryl Dixon, or hell, even her own brother-in-law Glenn Rhee, ramming his cock into her, he would've been less shocked than by what he witnessed now.


Rick liked to spend some of his evenings walking the cell block to get rid of excess energy before he tried to lay down. He had to, otherwise he'd toss and turn and Judith had a way of picking up on his nervous energy and waking up when he did. So he'd slip Judith into the bunk above Carl's and walk until he was able to think about sleep. Rick knew every cell occupant. He knew who would be up late and who wouldn't. He would hear things from the cells that sometimes glowed with light. The rustle of a book page, the scribble of pen to paper.


He also knew who would most likely be fucking, or beating off, or touching herself, all done as quietly as possible in the dark. Usually there was nothing more than a sigh, or a light moan, or the rhythmic slapping of skin. He could predict when he'd hear what. People had patterns and his training as a cop had long ago taught him how to pick up on such things. Those sounds had yet to, oddly enough, arouse Rick. He always found the sheer normalcy of it comforting. It meant that they were human, alive, and satisfying a very healthy need in the privacy of their safe place. He always kept right on going, too, having no desires to eavesdrop or make anyone self-conscious. He'd just keep strolling, basking in the sounds of the living. That was, ultimately, what soothed him even more than the walking.


Whenever he passed Beth Greene's cell the curtain was almost always closed and there was silence from within. Sometimes he'd hear a cute snore, or a giggle from something she read, or she'd be up late scribbling in her journal or drawing. As Beth aged, as she'd grown into adulthood, he'd begun to hear the breathy sounds of masturbation on occasion. He'd keep walking, no more disturbed by Beth being human than he was anyone else, and he'd absorb the sounds of the living to block out the memory of listening to the dead all day at the fences, where they sought entrance to feed, to destroy the good that they'd worked so hard to build.


So tonight, when Rick Grimes heard an anomalous sound, he did what he normally wouldn't do: he pulled the curtain to Beth's cell back, just a bit, to make sure she was okay. He'd heard a sound, a moan, that had been muffled. He just needed to make certain Beth wasn't in distress, that if she was with someone it was consensual. He hoped she was having a good experience, perhaps masturbating so intensely she had to muffle her own cries out of respect for her neighbors and she wasn't being forced into something she didn't want.


It wasn't a complete shock to see that Beth wasn't alone. She was, after all, a young woman who'd reached a point in her life when she was going to want to explore sex, when she should explore her body with a partner. There was so much bad in this life he wanted to know Beth, sweet, kind Beth, had found someone to explore pleasure with. He just didn't expect to find her exploring it with Carol Peletier.






...






The bunks at the prison didn't allow for a lot of freedom to move but the two of them were making do well enough. It was difficult to see every inch of skin on the two naked women but Rick could see enough, even in the light of the single candle that flickered on Beth's beside table, to make his dick stiffen with lightening speed. He tried to let go of the curtain, to back away, to give the women, his dear friends, their privacy, but he could no sooner move or control himself than a man being electrocuted could control himself, the initial shock was that deep.


Then he began to adjust, his brain told him that what he was seeing was real. Beth Greene was naked. Her hands were flat against the wall while she straddled Carol's face. Her young back was slick with sweat. A tendril of long blond hair that was now free from it's usual ponytail trailed down Beth's back, trapped by the sweat on her creamy, glowing skin. She rocked her hips in fast, short motions, with Carol's tongue lapping at her folds, fast, thirsty. Carol had her legs up, had a dildo in hand, thrusting it into her cunt in fast, hard thrusts, her pussy so wet Rick could easily hear the movements. The sound of wet penetration hit his balls like a lover's caress, making them tighten, making his cock twitch with need.


Beth looked down at Carol, who moaned ever so slightly against Beth's sensitive core.


"Carol...Carol...I'm ready..."


There was so much need and affection in Beth's voice. Carol withdrew the dildo and Rick let the curtain drop. He slipped to the left of the cell entrance and looked to see if anyone was watching him watch Beth and Carol. The coast was clear.


He peered back inside and saw Carol was putting Beth beneath her. He had an idea what was coming next. Carol spread Beth's legs wide before she lowered her own pussy over Beth's. Then she began to move, thrusting her hips the same way any man would, fucking in that position. The smell of aroused pussies drifted from the cell, filing Rick's nostrils and making his dick ache with longing to replace Carol and fill Beth with himself until he felt her dripping walls clench right around him.


Rick watched as Carol stroked her clit against Beth's. The girl had a rather large nub that protruded from the mass of curly blond hair between her legs. He saw Beth struggling to keep it down, saw how her sweat slicked skin glowed in the gold candlelight with her hair a dampened, beautiful mess that clung to her skin. Their pants grew more intense as Carol stroked faster, harder.


"I'm coming!" Beth whispered, her voice beautifully taut with raw desire.


It happened, the most beautiful thing Rick had ever witnessed in real life: two women coming in unison. Their pussies literally erupted with their juices at the same time, both of them amazingly quiet, releasing their orgasm on muted whimpers that were somehow sexier than screams. He could see Beth's pussy contracting with her orgasm as it squirted the last of her load onto Carol's cunt.


Carol leaned forward and claimed Beth's lips in a hard kiss, sucked at her little pink nipples, before collapsing beside her.


Rick slipped away, then, leaving them to enjoy the afterglow and pillow talk, while he sought out a private place to deal with the aching erection in his jeans.