11 April 2014

I Didn't Mean To

Daryl Dixon was exhausted. He’d spent the better part of the day hauling in firewood with Glenn and Zach, and fighting off walkers the noise had drawn. Now it was nearly eleven at night and he stood in the darkened washroom trimming his beard before it could get out of control. He was in the process of cleaning his razor when he heard familiar footfall behind him. It was Beth Greene, he’d bet a million worthless dollars. He hoped she didn’t have bad news. He didn't have another fight in him tonight.

“About time you got back,” she said.

The quality of Beth’s voice was strange. It was low and sultry, sexy. He’d never heard her speak like that before. She ran her small, warm hands up his back.

“I’m so wet for you. I’ve got an ache deep in my wet pussy that only your hard cock will soothe.”

“What?” Daryl said, shocked, and turned around as Beth gasped.

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark he had no difficulty making out Beth’s face in the tiny sliver of moonlight coming through the washroom window. Her face was the perfect picture of horror and embarrassment.

“Daryl! Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I thought you were Zach.”

He figured she was sleeping with the boy but he had no idea she ever spoke to him like that. His eyes travelled to her lips. He couldn’t reconcile the idea of filthy words like those she’d just spoken coming from such a sweet mouth. Hell, he’d never have figured she even knew the definitions of those words.

She swallowed hard enough for him to hear it. “Um…listen, Daryl, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Turn me on? He thought. His dick was hard as rock, pressing against his jeans, aching to feel her wet warmth tight around him.

“Well, I’ll see you around then,” she said awkwardly, and then all but ran away from him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he said, when she was gone. He grabbed his shaving kit and held it in front of him. He had to pass her cell to get to the old office he’d claimed as his room. He couldn’t help but remember the time he’d come upon her masturbating with an ugly neon pink dildo that she’d named Daryl. He often thought of the sight of seeing her work the thing until she came over her hand.

Damn it all if he didn’t want to just fuck the hell out of her.

Once in his room, Daryl locked the door, grabbed the bottle of baby oil he called Beth, and yanked his pants down. He flopped back onto the mattress of his bed, gripped his swollen, aching cock, and began to work himself hard as he imagined ripping open the privacy curtain of her cell, yanking her pants off, spreading her legs, and then plunging into her. He squeezed his dick hard as he worked himself, his breath coming fast, his whimpers turning to moans as he saw, in his minds eye, Beth’s perky young tits bouncing with each hard, punishing thrust.

“Fuck! Fuck, Beth!” Daryl cried as he climaxed. He’d never came so hard in his life. In fact, he came so hard he thought he may have even blacked out for a moment. When he came down, got his breath, he cleaned up the mess and stared at the ceiling.

That girl was gonna be the death of him. 

No comments:

Post a Comment