Dicked by Daryl

The Cocking Dead

By Celia Aaron

Jill peeked through the windows of the house where she'd taken refuge from the undead. She knew she had to stay quiet, lest the walkers hear her inside. Her breath, her voice, even her thoughts were muffled from the masses walking through the streets and streaming through the neighborhood.

She'd chosen this house, the two-story antebellum beauty, based on the large fenced yard and great vantage points. The dead didn't try the gate, they wandered out and away from her stronghold.

The house was empty when Jill found it. Maybe the owners had fled? Jill liked to think they'd been on vacation when the panic started. Maybe they decided to stay on a sunny beach somewhere, free from walkers.

Jill had been holed up in here for weeks, eating all the good food. But it wasn't all good times. Her stores were low and she didn't think she could go another day without the good hummus, not this knockoff shit these people kept on hand.

Reluctantly, she shouldered her backpack and prepared to go in search of food. She waited until night fell and crept across the yard, the high grass tickling her ass. Her shorty shorts kept her movements free and allowed her to express at least some of her pre-apocalypse style. Armed with a crowbar, she was ready to get the choice hummus and return in triumph.

She slipped through the bars of the fence, shimmying through a hidden spot she'd cut as an escape route if shit hit the fan. Tip-toeing through the woods, she saw a patch of walkers in the moonlight, milling around down on the main road of this neighborhood.

She turned her back on them, heading away from the obvious danger, and maneuvered through the neighbors' back yards. When she'd gone two houses over, she stopped, eyeing the brick house and trying to figure out if these people had good enough taste to store the right hummus. Glancing around, she decided to take the risk, and opened the sliding glass door to the patio.

The door slid on its rails, only giving a slight squeak. She winced at the noise, but didn't hear any shuffling or moaning, so she darted inside. Clicking on her flashlight, she surveyed the room. Living area, nothing amiss. She kept to the wall and made her way to the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose at the granite – clearly builder grade.

Still, the décor was bearable, so she hoped there was good hummus lurking in the pantry or the fridge. The pantry was well stocked, so she grabbed a few essentials – tater chips, Cheetos, Mountain Dew – before giving up hope for the good hummus. Guess I'll have to go next door.

She zipped her pack and slung it across her back, the smooth fabric cool against her shoulders, the thin straps of her skimpy tank top straining under the weight. She crept back the way she came and hopped the fence to the next yard. Moans carried on the air, the street full of more walkers than Jill could handle. She eased to the back door and peeked into the dark interior.

There, on the wall, she made out a star of David gracing the mantle. Moonlight striped along the symbol. Jill smiled. My people. They don't skimp on the hummus.

She tried the door handle. Locked. Frustration welled inside her. She knew, goddammit, knew there was good hummus inside. And she would not be denied. She glanced around, fully aware of the walkers only twenty yards away. But desperate times call for desperate measures. She gripped up on her crowbar and knocked out a window pane closest to the handle. She winced at the sound and the tinkle of glass and hurriedly reached through and popped the lock. Once inside, she closed the door and remained still for minutes. Her breathing eventually evened out and she calmed as no walkers came rushing to the door.

She clicked on her flashlight and investigated. Some furniture was turned over and the distinct smell of blood and rot were in the air. She had to make this quick. Picking her way through the living area, she found the kitchen. To the fridge she went, desperate for that chickpea concoction that fueled her. She ripped the door open and, to her intense delight, she found the mother lode. Container after container of delicious hummus – still fresh as the day it was made because of the house's generator.

"Shalom, motherfuckers," she whispered and tossed her bag down, throwing all the containers inside, tossing the Cheetos to make more room. Priorities.

She zipped up and slung the weighty pack on her back. Did she dare hope for some pita chips in the pantry?

A hand scraped against her firm backside. She squealed and jumped away. A walker had snuck up on her. She'd been so enraptured by her find that she didn't hear it. Her crowbar was on the floor beneath the rotted mass of flesh that even now lumbered toward her. She backed away and tried to dash to the right, toward the front door. Another walker, half her face gone, lunged at Jill.

Jill shrieked as the walker grabbed onto her pack and tried to rip it loose.

"Oh, hells to the naw." Jill kicked out her stiletto heel and took the walker down. No one was taking her prized hummus. Not happening. But the distraction gave the first walker an opening. It went for her, pushing her down on top of the hummus thieving bitch.

Somewhere outside Jill heard a rumble, low and vibrating right to her deepest parts. She couldn't think about it, though. She was fighting for her life, the walker's teeth so close to biting her verifiably perfect breasts that were straining out of her tank top.

She pushed him away, trying to clear her nose of his fetid stink. He kept coming, his teeth clacking with the need to rip through her milky, delectable skin.

A loud bang – the front door bursting open – and the walker was momentarily distracted. A large boot came out of nowhere and kicked the walker backward, its head exploding against the fridge from the force of impact. Jill looked up the boot, the the dirty pants legs, and stopped at the rock hard length at crotch level. Holy shit.

A hand came into view and Jill took it. She was lifted easily to her feet and the man stomped the fuck out of the hummus thief. Well deserved. When he was done making a gooey puddle out of the offending walker, he smoothed his hair out of his grimy face and looked at her with dark, enticing eyes.

"I'm Daryl." His Southern drawl was distinct. Jill's panties would have been soaked just from his voice … if she'd been wearing any.

"I'm Jill." She tossed her dark hair over her nearly bare shoulder.

Daryl gave her a full up and down look as he slung his crossbow across his back.

"You shouldn't be out here alone. It's dangerous. Especially for a girl like you. Dressed like that. Someone might try and take advantage." Daryl smiled, all innocence and unicorns farting out rainbows.

Jill ate it up. "You're right. I'd best get back. The noise may have attracted more."

"Well, I happen to have a bike out front. This hog gets 70 miles to the gallon and I can take you back to wherever you came from, make sure its safe and all."

Jill switched from foot to foot, thinking hard about the handsome, dirty stranger. He watched her movements, following the jutting of her hips as she considered his offer. Her eyes kept wandering back to the bulge in his pants. Clearly a show-er and a grower.

She shrugged. "Sure, I guess." I mean, it's not like he's asked for any of my hummus; that would be the real deal breaker here.

"Great. Follow me." Daryl stepped over the puddle of gore and helped Jill through it and to the front door. He stilled and put a hand to her chest, holding her back from some perceived danger.

"Wait, did you hear that?" he whispered.

Jill hadn't heard a thing. Daryl held her breast as he listened for any sign of the walker he'd supposedly heard. After a few more good squeezes, he dropped his hand and adjusted himself in his pants. "Must have been the wind."

Jill's pussy was on fire. Daryl was such a gentleman, keeping her safe the way he did. It was a major turn on.

He swung the front door inward and scanned the street. Jill peeked around his broad shoulders and saw a few walkers.

"Stick to me, Jill." Daryl walked onto the porch and pulled his crossbow out. A few well-placed arrows and the walkers dropped to the pavement with sickening thunks. Jill clutched Daryl's leather riding jacket and stayed close as he walked down the front steps. He stowed the bow again and threw a leg over his bike. Jill jumped on behind him. When he started it up, the rumble between her legs made her throw her head back.

"Hold on." Daryl all but grunted.

Jill gripped him tight and pointed to her gated hideaway on the hill. "There."

"Nice." Daryl gunned the engine and ripped up the road, dodging walkers and kicking a few just for shits and giggles as they sped past.

Jill loved the cool feel of the wind on her exposed skin, the sensation of her nipples pressed into Daryl's hard back, and most of all, the vibration running all over her wet pussy.

Daryl rumbled up to her front gate and she unlocked it for him. Once inside, she locked it back and they rolled up to the house.

"Here all by yourself?" Daryl helped her off the bike and smiled genuinely – not wolfishly at all.

He was so thoughtful to think about others, maybe how they might need his help. "No, it's just me, all alone, here in this house, no one to hear me scream, only some stray walkers."

He grinned, dimples showing up on his cheeks. "Good. After you, Jill." He gestured to the steps. "Want me to get that bag for you?"

Jill whirled on him, doing her best to look him in the eye instead of in the crotch. "You don't touch this pack or its contents, got it?"

Daryl ran a hand through his greasy hair. "Yeah, that's cool. That's not what I'm here for, anyway." He licked his lips and ran his gaze down her body.

"That's better." She turned on her heel and climbed the stairs, opening the front door and showing Daryl inside.

He closed and locked the door behind them. He raised an eyebrow at the destroyed area just inside the foyer.

As followed his gaze. "Oh, that… well, the people who lived here installed dark greenish almost black marble. Gauche, am I right? I went ahead and had the guy I was here with at first remove it. I sent him on a run to Home Depot for some silver Carrera, but he never came back." She shrugged and click clacked her way into the kitchen. Can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs.

"Who's Carrera?" Daryl removed his crossbow and laid it on the dining room table while Jill stowed her hummus in the fridge.

"Nevermind, Daryl. Hey, could you do me a favor?"

Daryl leaned against the island, and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched every move she made.

"Yeah, what can I do to, uh, for you?"

"Wash your hands?"

He looked at his grimy paws. "Sure, I guess."

He washed up, scrubbing thoroughly.

Jill bent over and shoved the hummus as deep as she could to the back of the fridge. She couldn't risk Daryl getting any ideas.

She felt a hand on her hip and then the distinct sensation of a hard cock along her ass. She stood and tried to turn around, but Daryl wrapped his arms around her and turned her around forcibly before pushing her down onto the premium granite island.

"Daryl," she squeaked. The cold stone pressed into her gorgeous tits, hardening her nipples in an instant.

"Just let it happen." He gripped the back of her shorts and yanked hard, ripping them off entirely.

Cool air assaulted her warm, wet flesh and she let out a low moan. She heard the jingle of his redneck belt buckle and then felt his tip nudging at her entrance. She squirmed, but Daryl put his hand on her back, his fingers splayed out, and pushed her down. Her ass was in the air, thanks to her sensible stilletos, and she had nowhere to go.

He eased his head inside and Jill gasped. Her nerves were firing, all of the sensations swirling around her clit like a tempest.

Daryl grunted and pushed in farther, sliding himself into her deepest core. She clawed ineffectually at the granite.

"Wish Merle could see this shit." Daryl pulled out to the tip and rammed it back home, making Jill's bare skin squeak against the granite.

He started a hard rhythm, Jill's thighs pinned against the cabinets and her torso pressed into the unforgiving stone. Daryl squeezed her hip, leaving fingerprints deep in her skin as he pistoned his thick cock inside her.

Jill was heating up, almost boiling over at the pleasure sparking across her skin and skittering to her pussy. Daryl's grunts and the sounds of skin smacking skin echoed around the room.

Then Daryl licked his fingers and snaked them down to Jill's clit. She bucked against the island, but he didn't take his fingers away. He swirled his fingertips around her hard little nub, as he pumped her mercilessly, her moans growing louder and louder during the hard fuck.

When he strummed her like a redneck banjo, she came hard and fast. Jill's pussy convulsed and she shot away skyward, exploding in a blinding blaze of sparks as her hips locked and her breath caught in her throat. She moaned like a cheap whore and Daryl couldn't stand the sound. He jackhammered into her and let loose, pulling out and painting her pert ass and pussy lips with his seed. He grunted, low and long, as he released. Jill panted and slowly came down from her high.

"Oh, Daryl," she breathed.

He finally let off her back and she stood, his chest to her back.

"Fuck, woman." His voice shook.

Jill smiled. After all, she had a willing cock and all the hummus she could wish for. Things were looking up. She grabbed some paper towels and cleaned herself up before heading upstairs to find another pair of shorty shorts.

"Help yourself to anything except the hummus, Daryl. I'll be back in a minute."

"Yes ma'am." Daryl leaned against the island, still panting and hot from his exertions.

She climbed the stairs, pleased with the buzz in her pussy from her orgasm. She went to her enormous closet and perused her expansive collection of jean cut off shorts and other necessaries. She couldn't choose which ones she wanted, so she went to her dresser.

A hand closed around her throat.

"Don't move." An intense Southern drawl that almost sounded … Australian? … was in her ear. She could feel a gun digging into her hip.

Wait, that wasn't a gun…

"Have you seen Coooraaaalll?" the stranger asked.

"Who?"

"Nevermind." He moved his free hand down to her breast and kneaded it. "I'm doing stuff. Things."

Jill's pussy, still all tingling from Daryl's attentions, went right back to defcon one at the stranger's attentions.

He gripped the thin fabric of her tank top and ripped it, shredding the material easily. Now all Jill wore were the stilettos.

The stranger ground his cock into Jill's backside as he pinched her nipple. His scruffy beard tickled her neck as he kissed and bit at her. She moaned and his hand tightened around her throat.

"Quiet now," he licked up her neck and pushed her toward the bed. She stumbled forward and fell, turning over quickly to look at her assailant.

"Who-who are you?"

"I'm Rick Grimes, bitch."

He was handsome, scruffy, and dressed like a stripper-gram policeman. She licked her lips.

"Now spread your legs."

Jill was generally a shy sort, not one to go flashing the goods without proper cause. As his broad chest and rippling abs came into view, she felt there was definite cause. Slowly, she spread her legs apart. Rick's gaze was glued to her pussy as he tossed his shirt aside and unzipped his pants. He fisted his cock from his boxers and showed her what he had for her. A good eight inches of law and order.

"Rick, I can't—"

He crawled on top of her and pushed her down on the bed. "You have the right to remain silent."

He licked her nipple and sucked the lovely tip into his mouth. He groaned and rubbed his head against her slick pussy.

She arched her back into him, filling his mouth with her perfect tit and he nipped at her with his teeth.

"Way better than Lori," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Nevermind." He kissed down her body, across her shuddering stomach, and to her wet cunt.

He licked it, a thorough taste as his knees hit the floor. He darted his tongue inside her and she ran her hands through his wavy locks, gripping his head closer to her. He pushed her thighs as far apart as they could go and feasted on her.

She was moaning louder and louder with each suck and lick. She twisted her nipples, her pussy tensing as Rick ate like a goddamn champ.

"Rick." Daryl walked in, somehow dirtier than he was only ten minutes ago.

Rick stopped and turned to Daryl. Fuck. She whimpered at the loss of his hot mouth.

"I came to find you. You been gone for a while. Carol was wondering about you," Rick said.

"Who's Carol?" Daryl laughed uncomfortably and jerked his head toward Jill. Then he latched his gazed on Jill's splayed form.

"Look what I found all alone here in this house. Helpless as a kitten." Rick turned back to Jill and licked, keeping her buzz going.

"I got a taste a minute ago. Feeling like seconds." Daryl stripped his vest and the shirt underneath as Rick resumed his meal.

Jill's back arched off the bed and she rubbed her greedy pussy all over Rick's mouth.

"That's what I'm talking about." Daryl shucked his pants and fisted his cock as he walked to the bed.

He knee-walked to Jill and put his cock to her lips. She tasted the wet tip, salty and delicious, before he sank it in her mouth. She gagged for a second and then recovered. Daryl prowled over her, putting his hands on her other side to support himself as he fucked her mouth. When Rick slipped a finger inside her hot cunt, Jill moaned on Daryl's shaft.

Daryl grunted and thrust harder, his cock assaulting her tongue, her throat. She loved every second of it. When Rick added a second finger to the first, her hips lifted from the bed. Rick slipped a hand beneath her, cupping her ass as he renewed his attentions to her clit.

She felt the tension rising and she sucked Daryl harder and harder, her cheeks going concave. When Rick latched onto her clit and sucked as hard as he could, she came on a moan. Daryl kept pumping into her mouth as she froze up, the orgasm blasting through her, her pussy convulsing and sucking Rick's fingers in even deeper.

"Shit. I'd kill Shane all over again for another taste of this."

Jill didn't know what he was talking about because she was too busy crying out like a whore, strangled by cock.

Rick yanked her hips down to the edge of the bed, Daryl following her mouth, readjusting to get even deeper. She swallowed her spit and his precum as he kept railing her mouth.

She jumped when Rick shoved his cock inside her. It was large, thick, and hard as a rock. Then she moaned and redoubled her efforts to please Daryl. He pumped his hips against her face, his balls slapping her cheek lightly with each thrust.

Rick gripped both her tits and shoved into her, harder and harder as he kneaded those perfect mounds. Daryl grunted, Rick pumped, and Jill sucked like a Hoover vac. Wet sounds permeated the air and Jill was in heaven.

Rick knew Jill liked her clit attended to. He bent over her, making sure each thrust made contact with her whole pussy, clit included. Jill couldn't think, couldn't pay attention to anything but the cocks that were filling her.

Daryl looked down at her with his dark eyes, watching her sucking him off. Rick worshipped her tits and fucked her rough, like she craved.

Her cunt began to buzz harder and she brought her knees up so Rick could go as deep as possible. Her eyes rolled back when Rick thumbed her clit.

"She gonna come again, Rick."

"Yeah she is." Rick pumped faster.

Daryl's cock grew even bigger in her mouth.

"Fuck, I'm gonna shoot," he grated out.

Her clit was alight, heat coursing through her veins. She wanted to swallow every last bit Daryl had and come back for seconds. She moaned at the thought.

Daryl tensed and gave one more hard shove into her. Thick spurts of come filled her mouth and her pussy clutched, coming hard as Rick shouted and his cock kicked inside her. Jill swallowed hard and sucked Daryl's cock clean as she moaned through her own orgasm. Rick plunged in a few more times before collapsing on top of her.

Daryl fell to the side. "Fucking hell."

Jill was sated. She lay there and breathed, savoring the taste of Daryl on her lips and the feel of Rick still embedded deeply inside her. There was only one thing that could make the whole thing more perfect.

"Boys, I need to go downstairs for a minute."

Rick rolled off and panted to the ceiling, a fine gloss of sweat on his toned body. Jill rose and sashayed down the stairs, still in heels, and went to the fridge. She pulled out the hummus and opened her secret store of pita chips. Before she could take a bite, there was a loud knock at the front door.

Rick and Daryl came down the stairs and motioned for her to stay put. She didn't. She moved through the dining room to listen.

"Who the fuck?" Daryl looked through the peephole.

A stranger's voice pierced the wood. "We know she took the good hummus. We want it back."

"Never," Jill hissed.

Rick turned to her and unholstered his revolver. "We'll handle this. They're fucking with the wrong people."

Fin