Rick locked the door to the truck and then
climbed the ladder on the back of the semi that had been long abandoned and
left to rust. It was a clear night, but they had spotted a small herd of walkers
earlier that day, when they’d first come out on their run. They had to go
further and further to find supplies, which meant more fuel had to be used.
They were bound to break down eventually, and now that time had come.
“We’ll find some gas in the morning,” said
Rick, passing Michonne the canteen.
She set it aside without drinking and lay back
on the blanket she’d spread. It was a nice, clear night, breezy and warm.
Still, Rick wouldn’t be surprised if it rained in the middle of the night. He
just hoped walkers weren’t milling about if it did.
“They won’t be able to see us up here if they
come our way,” Michonne said. She knew they’d be safe atop the abandoned semi,
but she didn’t like being exposed.
“Why do you think they do it?” Rick asked. “Gather
in groups like that, I mean.”
Michonne shrugged. Together they gazed up at
the stars that peeked through the occasional wispy cloud. The moon was
almost full and everything was coated in silver.
“My guess is some part of them longs for
companionship.”
Companionship. He and Lori had known seven
months of strained silence before she’d died eight months ago. That was fifteen
months of him being alone and more lonely than he’d believed it was possible
for a man to be.
“Yeah, companionship. I understand the desire
for it,” said Rick.
“Me too,” Michonne replied quietly.
It wasn’t like Rick had a lot of options open
to him. He was doing his best to care for his son, and teach him to be a man,
not a killer. There weren’t a lot of women at the prison he could choose
companionship from. Maggie was with Glenn. Beth was too young. Carol had her
eye on Daryl, and frankly, he wasn’t interested in any of them that way, even
if they’d all been single. There was Karen, one of the Woodbury survivors, but
he’d seen how she and Tyreese were getting closer. There were a couple of other
women, but none of them interested him, and he’d be damned if he’d use someone
just for sex, regardless of how much in need he was.
That left Michonne. How many times had he taken
the bull by the horn, so to speak, and fantasized about slipping into her? He’d
long ago lost count. He sometimes, secretly, thought of her as his woman. It didn’t hurt
that Carl looked up to her. He found himself intensely disliking any
man who looked twice at her, yet he couldn’t bring himself to make a move. He’d
never been like Shane. He’d never been some kind of Casanova who could woo
women with confidence.
For her part, Michonne had never had difficulty
expressing an interest in a man before the turn. After the turn, however, after
losing her son and her family and friends, she’d given up on the idea of ever
finding love and friendship. Andrea had shown her that friends were still worth
making, but what about love? Her heart ached with loneliness, her body with
need. She sensed that Rick wanted her. She saw how he looked at her on occasion.
She liked those looks, but she wasn’t fool enough to believe he would ever
approach her first. If something were to happen between them, it was on her to
make the first move.
“I think about us being more than friends,” she
said. She spoke so softly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. He waited
with baited breath for her to continue. When she didn’t, he knew she was as
scared as he was to broach the subject of them ever being more than friends.
“I do too.”
That seemed to be enough for Michonne. She was
a brave woman, never one to waste time on unnecessary movements or words. She’d
thought of him, he’d thought of her, they each were old enough to understand
they wanted, needed, each other.
She reached out to Rick, making sure that she
left no doubt as to her intentions, and rested her hand on his crotch. She
stroked her fingers lightly over his jeans and felt him harden under her touch.
His breath came quick, and that, in turn, quickened hers. Having broken through
the wall of awkward fear, they became the confident adults they were when
approaching everything else in life and began shedding their clothes.
A single raindrop landed on Michonne’s cheek.
Damn it…
Rick either didn’t notice, or he didn’t care.
Rain wasn't going to be enough to stop him now. He urged her onto her back as he knelt between her legs, running his hands
lightly over the length of her strong legs. The clouds were scattered, but he
could still see her when they thinned enough to uncover the moon.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice
roughened by lust.
Rick leaned forward. Michonne felt the light
scratch of his beard as he trailed kisses down her belly. His tongue found her
clit and she felt the vibrations of his voice when he moaned, tasting her for
the first time. The clouds darkened, throwing them into night as dark as pitch.
Though she couldn’t see Rick, she could feel his tongue, feel his calloused
fingers slip gently, teasingly, in and out of her.
The orgasm, the first she’d had at a man’s
hands since losing her family, rocked Michonne with the kind of force she’d
never experienced before. She cried out, her back arching involuntarily as one
wave after another rippled through the core of her body. She all but collapsed
when it was over. She could feel the rain coming down now, gentle and warm, as
Rick kissed his way from her clit to her nipples.
“Your turn,” she breathed, pushing him onto his
back.
She wanted to take him into her mouth but he
had other plans. He pulled her up and tucked her legs on either side of him. She
knew what he wanted. She was going to give it to him.
Michonne rose up on her knees and positioned
Rick at her entrance. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him. He was larger than
she’d expected, and it had been a long time since she’d been penetrated. She
moaned as her body gave, stretching out to let him inside. The warm rain gently
caressed her back as she took him fully into her.
Rick was a vocal lover. He entwined his hands
in hers as she rode him. She wished there was enough light to see his face, but
the cloud cover wouldn’t allow for it. She rocked against him, slowly at first,
but picked up speed, matching his thrusts from beneath her until he cried out
and came inside of her. It was hot, and went deep and a feeling she thought she’d
never know again when she vowed she’d never share her body with a man again.
Michonne lay down beside Rick and kept one leg
wrapped around him. The rain would eventually cool, they would eventually have
to take shelter in the truck, but for now they would lie there, wrapped in one
another’s arms, their bodies sated and their hearts content.
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he
said, stroking her shoulder.
“Me either,” she answered, and then drifted to
sleep as the rain slowly came to a stop.
I liked it very much! No added preservatives, a few words then actions. They are both pretty much loners anyway. I large amount of there communication is done through eyes, facial expression and actions.
ReplyDeletesoo good :)
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