Ear Witness

It was a breathy moan that pulled Rick from the brink of sleep. It was the kind of moan that could be mistaken, almost, for a sigh in the night, and it came from Daryl Dixon's cell.

Light, breathy, a release of air through a mouth open in a silent moan. Normally Rick didn't hear much more than the occasional grunt from Daryl when darkness came. He'd been hearing the red neck archer beat off for months, after all, since they'd settled the prison. He knew Daryl had heard him a few times, too. It couldn't really be helped. There wasn't much privacy to be had in a place like this. As long as there weren't any screamers that didn't care if the whole prison heard them then everyone was content to live and let live.

Tonight was different. Ever since Daryl had started seeing Sasha Williams there was absolute silence from Daryl's cell. Rick assumed they would take care of that sort of business elsewhere. They certainly couldn't risk fucking in Sasha's cell, not with her brother, Tyreese, right next door. Part of Rick suspected that Daryl hadn't had Sasha spend the night in his bunk out of respect for Rick and Carl, but tonight Carl was in the library with Carol and the other kids doing a "lock-in" while they read stories and ate the snacks that had been found on a run.

Rick thought perhaps that was it. One sigh, something Sasha hadn't been able to hold back at the end of a quiet fuck. Then he heard it, the clink of a belt buckle, the rough sound of a zipper, the soft thud of jeans hitting the cell floor.

Rick swallowed as he took in the sounds. It wasn't over, it was beginning, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Daryl was his best friend, Sasha had become a friend, too, and Rick felt guilty for the way his ears stained to hear, and his mind worked to put actions to sounds to form a movie of the two of them in his mind. He felt guilty for allowing his hand to drift down his belly as his pulse picked up pace, then under his shirt where he stroked his belly.

Another release of breath. A sharp hiss, this time from Daryl. The wet sound of a languid kiss. All of it were like physical touches to Rick's needy cock. He very gently caved to the demanding ache in his jeans, released himself, and listened to the unmistakable sound of a woman's mouth moving over a hard cock. It was a wet sound, a sloppy sound, beautiful, mingling with the hard breath coming from Daryl as he tried not to moan or cry out.

Rick moved his hand over the stiff, pulsing member in his hand. He didn't want too imagine Sasha doing to him the dirty things her pretty mouth was doing to Daryl right at that moment, but he had no issues picturing Michonne there, in the bunk, completely naked. He filled his mind with thoughts of her hand, warm and firm against his flesh, flesh that was drawn tight, almost painfully sensitive to touch. It was Michonne's hand, calloused from wielding her katana, just Rick's palm was calloused from wielding a shovel to till the earth, rubbing up and down, stroking him with a tight grip, while Sasha's mouth wetly stroked Daryl's cock only one cell away, literally feet from him.

Rick felt come already dribbling from the head of his cock. The noises next door stopped. There was no longer the sloppy wetness of Sasha's mouth on Daryl's cock. There was a shifting sound, another pair of jeans hitting the floor, and more, all of their clothing being shed. They planned to be naked, skin on skin, and while Rick was glad it was a reality for Daryl, the man he loved as a brother, he felt a sense of emptiness that he had only a fantasy of Michonne to slide atop him. That only slightly detracted from the building tension in Rick's balls as they tightened, filling up. He turned onto his back and listened as the rhythmic sound of heavy breathing was underscored with another wet sound--the sound of a rock hard cock thrusting up and into the welcoming warmth of a wet pussy.

Rick could just feely Michonne's body wrapped around him now. He could feel her hard nipples scrape against the hair on his chest. Sasha's breathy, needy moans now came from Michonne's lips in Rick's mind, and it was his name she whispered in the darkness. He held onto his cock with a tight grip, squeezing, pumping in rhythm to the thrusts coming from Daryl's cell. He imagined, as he listened to Sasha's muffled moans, moans that sounded almost close to pain as Daryl pounded into her, that Michonne held on while he pistoned his hips, relentlessly fucking her. He imagined her pussy throbbing around his as she let go of her release, her juices dribbling over him. In reality it was his own release that erupted from him and coated his hand when he found release on a grunt that he hoped no one heard. Hopefully Daryl and Sasha were too lost in the moment to have heard Rick's own moans and gasps that had mirrored their own too closely to be coincidental.

All fell quiet not long after. Rick cleaned up, tucked himself away, tried to to think about how Daryl would spend that chilly night in a real lover's warm embrace while he spent it alone, cold, wrapping himself in a scratchy old blanket.