Happy halloween! ifor those who actually cares about it. Rocked no letting go - Wayne Wonder, thats them old raggae tones yall don't know about lol
"I'm not watching that, Rick." Rick frowned at his best friend's conclusive tone. It left little room for argument. But he had to try. He spent ten dollars on a bootleg copy of some random horror and now he just wanted to get his money's worth.
"Come on, it's not so bad. I'll be sitting here right next to you." He argued but Michonne only gave him a hard look. Taking the disk out of its sleeve he turned on the CD player connected to the TV.
"You're not the one who has to turn everything off when that movie is over. Then I'd have to go in a dark room by myself worried about some ghost or creature coming to kill me." He couldn't stop the laughter from escaping his lips. For as long as he knew her she was always an overdramatic person. He was well aware that she did not like anything bloody or filled with gore. He recalled the time a knife slipped on his hand, she fainted at the sight of blood rushing down his arm.
"Keep the lights on if it makes you feel better. Michonne, you're going to need to concur your fears one day." He felt the spirit of Halloween this year. He'd watch it by himself but it was never fun watching scary movies alone. He thought about asking Carl, but his son had a 'haunted' sleepover.
"And you choose tonight to help me? It's Halloween, Rick." Rick had already slipped the cd in the tray and pressed play. Now he just needed to get her over to the couch. It was going to be a task. She was on the other side of the room. Not budging from her spot.
He sighed, "What would make you watch this with me? Do I need to get you a night light?" He didn't think twice as the next words slipped from his lips. "Or do I need to sleep with you?" In the shadows of the night, he saw her eyebrows shoot up. He winced hoping she didn't take it as a sexual innuendo. Not once has she showed in interest outside of friendship with him. He could understand that. They met when he was still married to Lori, he had a son and when he got divorced she was there for him and Carl. But it was never anything sexual, just strictly platonic. Not that he never thought about it. In fact, as of late it was consuming him. But he didn't want to damage the relationship they had or her relationship with his son.
She left the living area and came back with a blanket. "Fine, since you offered you have to stay the night, Rick. You'll be the one to suffer the brunt of my kicks if I have a nightmare." She wrapped the lush brown blanket tightly around her, concealing her night pajamas. She was wearing shorts with flaming skulls on them, Rick noticed. Lately, he noticed everything.
He smiled in triumph as she made her way over to the couch. Grabbing the remote, he tugged off his boots and threw his feet on her coffee table. Hesitantly, she took a seat next to him with a scowl. "You don't have to look so thrilled about this; I know I'm going to regret this." She mumbled. Sinking into the couch, he boosted the volume until the sounds of firecrackers were drowned out by the movie.
They were already twenty minutes into the movie when he felt her relax. She was tense thinking something was going to jump out at her. But her ease would soon be tarnished. So far, Rick gathered that the movie was about a young angsty teen who moved in with her father after her mother's spontaneous death. Unfortunately, her father was a part of a cult who indulged in human sacrifices. Needless to say, he felt deeply for the girl. It was only a matter of time before the movie took a turn for the worse.
"I don't get it, why doesn't she just ask the woman what the riddle meant," Michonne asked aloud. "On the noon of Halloween, they will return." She repeated the lines from an old woman that randomly approached the protagonist. The main character was currently rummaging through her father's belongings and the music suddenly turned dark. Michonne froze moving closer to him.
When he approached the local CD dealer he asked for something 'really scary' and having no idea what this movie was about he was quite happy with the turnout. The screech of a chair onscreen invaded the room. It almost sounded as if someone was moving around in Michonne's kitchen. It was so close, almost too real. Michonne must've thought the same thing.
Tapping on his shoulder she gave him a worried look. "You should check and see if something's in the kitchen." She requested with wide eyes.
He shook his head, "It's just the movie Michonne. Nothing is in your kitchen." He assured. At that point, the girl was copying satanic symbols from her father's notes on the screen. The chalk she used was trembling wildly in her hands. Then the room started shaking. Rick wouldn't say anything but the hair on the back of his neck went rigid. Michonne made her way into his arms clutching at his chest in fear.
Even through the thick blankets, he felt the heat of her body pressed up against him. He knew she was terrified but his brain was now void of blood. He felt like he was in high school all over again. He was no longer paying attention to the movie but to the woman that was digging her nails into his chest. He hesitated before wrapping an arm around her. He couldn't help himself, as her eyes were glued to the screen he kept his gaze on her face. She was always beautiful. He thought so from the day he met her. They aged over the years together and while his beard turned grey, her locs were now an auburn color, courtesy of the sun. It was hard to believe they were only five years apart. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. The sight of her smooth dark skin under the glow of the TV's light mesmerized him.
Suddenly, there was a blood curling scream emitting from the surround sound speaker. Rick jumped and Michonne screamed along with the TV. Everything went dark. Everything. Michonne now had her arms latched tightly around his neck as she found her way into his lap. It was hard to see where he had his hands when it was pitch black.
"Did the lights go off?" He questioned aloud. He was about to get up but she was still glued to him. He felt small hits against his back.
"Rick! This is exactly why I didn't want you brining any demonic horror shit in my house!" She exclaimed, even in the dark he could tell she was scared. His eye searched for any source of light but he couldn't find any.
"I'm sure it wasn't the movie. Maybe it's a black out. I remember seeing a power truck on my way over here."
"The same time that girl started chanting I don't know what summoning demons, the light goes out and it's the power companies fault?" She sounded hysterical.
"Yes, that's exactly what happened." The light from the TV flickered back on startling them both. And a freeze frame of a dark infernal figure was present.
Michonne's breath caught in her throat. "I'm not watching the rest of this, Rick." She slid off his lap and headed for the nearest light switch. There wasn't much he could do about it now. At least they managed to watch a good portion of the movie. Dragging himself from the indent he made on the couch he ejected the disk and stared at the label.
In red print it read, 'Beelzebub'. He squinted at the title before slipping the disk back in its sheath and shutting off the television.
Michonne squealed from the other side of the room and ran back to his arms. "Did you see that?" She question earnestly. He shook his head with a frown.
"Really? Something moved down the hall, Rick." He chuckled but she scowled at him. "I'm serious."
"We should check it out." She had a bewildered expression at his suggestion.
"God, you only had to be-"
"Michonne." He cut her off knowing what she was going to say.
"White." She finished.
"You're the one who has demons in her house." He teased. She didn't have a smile on her face. "Well, I guess I'll head out. I have to pick Carl up from his friend's house first thing in the morning." He sat back on the couch to pull on his boots.
"You're not going anywhere. You said so yourself, demons are in my house." She pulled the blanket tighter around her figure.
"Yeah but we didn't finish the movie. That offer is void." A grim look passed her features causing him to relinquish. "Fine, I'll stay over." He muttered. There was an audible sigh of relief as he followed her to her room.
She shrugged the brown blanket off her shoulders letting it fall to the ground. His old friend, the flaming skull shorts greeted him again. Only this time those shorts were carefully molded to her rear. He closed his eyes and swallowed deeply. When he opened them she was already nestled under the covers.
Shaking off the dirty thoughts he moved to the other side of the bed and lifted the covers.
"What do you think you're doing?" He stopped; his knee was almost touching the bed.
"Getting in bed." He said cautiously. Maybe she wanted him on the floor.
"In those?" She pointed at his denim shirt and worn jeans. "They have to go. I don't like clothes in the bed I sleep in." He frowned.
"But you're wearing clothes." He pointed, unbuckling the belt holding up his jeans then pushing them down his legs.
"I don't sleep in anything, but you're here I can't exactly go, you know." Oh, he knew and now that he knew he couldn't get the image out of his head. Instead of focusing on the reemerging ache in his boxer's he took off his shirt and slid under the covers next to Michonne. He was careful to keep a safe distance as he lied on his back next to her. By the sound of deep relaxed breaths he gathered that she was fast asleep. It didn't long for him to follow.
Rick was awoken by a strange sensation. It was strange because he didn't have a woman in his bed. And the sensation being pleasurable. He frowned batting the sleep out his eyes. It took a while to gather his wits but he soon realized he was by Michonne. In her bedroom, in her bed. He wasn't sure what time it was but he knew he hadn't been sleeping too long. Despite that fact it had to have been the best sleep he had in years. He shifted in order to catch a glimpse at the clock but was stopped by the feel of soft hips pressed firmly against his fully erect member.
At some point during the night she must've moved on his side of the bed. He pulled in a deep calming breath. He just had to move her away from him. His hard on would disagree but she was his friend. Gently he placed his hands on her hips and froze out of shock. Excitement raced through him. To his dismay, he didn't feel the material of those flaming skull pants she wore earlier. He couldn't tell if this was hell or heaven. Sometime during the night she kicked them of. He squinted in the dark at her; she still had her shirt on. She wasn't joking when she said she slept naked.
It took every ounce of self-control and will power to move her hips away. But he was losing his mind every second the heat of her full naked hip seared into his hand. He was able to move her but was faced with an even bigger problem than before. He clenched his jaw at the sight of her naked breast escaping the thin material of her shirt. "What the fuck?" He whispered to himself.
Michonne shifted and sought him out, her hips moved back to pressed against his cock, cradling it through his boxers. She was asleep. She only had to be. He looked over at her face and it was evident she was still in slumber. Her top was askew. He was almost incapable of any thought that didn't involve his mouth covering her dark erect nipple.
He could move away from her. But he didn't want to. He enjoyed the feel of her against him. It was the sweetest torture. And he was reveling in every moment. He just wanted to touch her. Nothing big and nothing more than just one touch. Maybe a taste. If there was a part of his brain that wasn't already muddled with carnal thoughts left, he wasn't going to entertain the idea. She was asleep, it was a bad idea. He'd probably destroy everything just by doing it.
He was on the road to talking himself out of his coarse thoughts but the quilt covering them was suddenly kicked off. His mouth fell open when she moved to her back and a hand slipped between her thighs.
Maybe it was about time he woke her up. "Michonne." He called out. When she didn't budge and her hand went to work on her cleft. He shook her. Hard. That seemed to do the trick because her eyes snapped open and she glared at him.
"What's wrong with you?" She questioned tiredly. He didn't know how to broach the subject. There was no right way to put it. And apparently she was unaware that her hand was still between her legs.
"You're touching yourself." He stated clearly. He couldn't be any more specific than that. He expected immediate shock, then for her to throw the sheet over her exposed half. He expected her to be completely mortified and send him packing. But she didn't move the hand covering her mound. She didn't move to cover her breast, to hide them away from his hungry eyes.
A shy smile curves her lips. He didn't know what to think of it. "I didn't expect it to happen like this." She mumbled. Nothing was more confusing and arousing than this very moment. He struggled trying to figure out what she meant by that.
"What are you saying?" He managed. Somehow there were more important things than the view her.
"I mean I see how you look at me, Rick." His mouth felt dry.
"So you did this on purpose?" Her hand moved toward him gliding over his chest.
"No, I was actually sleeping. But knowing a man I found attractive was lying next to me I guess my brain got the best of me. She chuckled lightly. The hand on his chest moved down to cup him through his boxers. That was all the consent he needed. He decided, any further conversation would be held later.
They stared at each other. The reality of what they were about to do was seeping into them. He didn't mind and neither did she. He captured her lips. He'd always wondered if they were as soft and luscious as they looked, they were. She moaned into his mouth. The vibration sending shivers down his spine. There was so much he wanted to do to her, so much. But they had plenty time to explore this new side of their relationship. He didn't want this to be a onetime thing. He pulled her lips deep into mouth tasting them.
Her hands soon found the way into his hair. He savored the inconsistent tugs on his scalp. Breaking their kiss his lip latched on to her neck. The taste of sweat coated his tongue and he loved the flavor. His lips traveled to her neck licking everything in its path. She was soon moaning and writhing against him. Soon her legs feel open, making space for him.
Nothing could ever measure up to the feel of having her beneath him, moaning his name. It was a heady feeling. He feared that alone would go to his head. His hand closed over the soft globes of her breast, kneading them while his mouth continued their journey to the juncture of her thighs.
The further he went down, the more intoxicating the scent of her arousal became. His fingers found her center before his mouth did.
"Rick?" She was breathless, when he glanced up her gazed was filled with longing.
"Just relax," he told her turning his attention back to the wetness coating her mound. "I'll take care of you." His mouth watered at the site before him. He spread her thighs further apart and slipped a finger down her slit. Rick felt her shiver and he smiled.
He was so close, he could smell her, almost taste her. In fact he did just that. Leaning down, his tongue darted out taking a long swipe at her center. He couldn't hold back the groan when his taste buds registered the tangy flavor. It was an addicting aroma. Using two fingers to open her folds, his mouth latched onto the warm bud. The weight of her legs on his shoulders anchored him as he worshiped her.
Her thigh began closing, trapping his head between them but he pried them open and dipped his tongue into her. He lapped up every drop of arousal that dripped from her. Her hands tugged him up forcefully. He complied without complaint and dragged himself up her figure.
He was surprised when her lips locked onto his, tasting herself. He could've died then a happy man. She lifts the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He also rid himself of his boxers when she leaned over to a small nightstand beside the bed.
He looked down taking in an angry erection as she handed him a condom.
"We're really doing this?" He says in a daze but still rolled the rubber down his length. Michonne nodded throwing her legs around his waist. Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he slid inside her and was immediately enveloped in her warm, tight heat. He took in the blissful expression on her face. Pressing his forehead against hers, he began rocking against her. Feeling the pressure of every thrust he mad, in and out. It was maddening but he loved the way she bit her lip when he slid out and took his time thrusting back in.
Their sweat was meshing together. He kept up his slow pace but every time she clenched tightly around him he could tell she need more. Without moving his forehead away from hers, without closing his eyes, he picked up his pace. Loving the bout of air the rushed from her lips against his own.
Sweat covered his back. And her fingers dug into his skin. An array of emotions was flickering in her eyes. It was overwhelming, even for him. Her eyes were watering and a tear slipped down the side of her cheek. He slowed his pace.
"You okay?" He whispered. She nodded against his forehead.
"Keep going." Her hand cupped his face and he leaned into her touch. "Keep going." She repeated. He did just that. The sound of their moans filled the room. The air around him was hot. He closed his eyes basking in the feel of her. The smell of her.
Arching herself against him she started to come apart. She was clenching around him erratically, he didn't hold back the inevitable. He let go with a moan, shortly behind her. His head fell into the crook her neck. He felt depleted.
Michonne played with the damp strands of his hair. "We're not going to be the same are we?" She said allowed.
He breathed in her scent and shook his head. "No, we're not."