Familiar Taste of Poison

Title: Familiar Taste of Poison

Author: Violet Sunrise

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Rating: M

Pairing: Merle Dixon/ Michonne

Disclaimer: Graphic depictions of sex, language, racial slurs

I do not own these characters, nor do I own the rights to them.

I am just a fan girl who wants to see what happens with Merle meets his match.

And how it affects him …

Comments are welcome...

Part 1

Merle Dixon can not sleep. All night, he tosses and turns trying to get her out of his mind. Two men stepped foot into Woodbury recently. One of which does not say much but, she does it is clear that she does not trust anyone her. Smart girl. Still, who the fuck does she think she is? Back home, blacks never thought to get out of line. The consequences were more than often deadly.

But, this one, she is different. There is no fear in those dark eyes of hers. Not even when she . Andrea spoke a mile a minute but, that one…Michonne, stood in silence sizing up everyone around her. The expression on her dark brown face is a scowl. Not even their hospitality is good for her uppity black ass. It is time to teach her a lesson.

Outside the night, is dark with a sky full of golden stars spread scattered across like diamonds. For the first time in a long time Merle looks up taking it all in. Beautiful.

He starts walking up the empty street. The Governor set a curfew for all residents. Merle can go as he pleases. The town people are not allowed outside of their homes before dark. Right now more than likely, most of the residents are already sleeping. Everything is quiet at the moment and still. A wall erected on both sides of the town to protect the residents. Men with heavy machine guns stand in place watching the woods outside from either side of a long platform. There are large tires at the top of the wall that give intruders and climbing walkers a run for their money.

Merle walks over to the house where Andrea and Michonne are being kept. The Governor's instructions are clear. No one is to disturb these women during their stay. In particular, he has sworn not to say anything offensive or racist to Michonne in particular. However, Merle decides to break this one rule.

The air is humid, so thick that he can cut it with the bayonet attached to the metal contraption that hides the stump where his hand once was. Sweat pours down his back and gathers around the collar of his ribbed white wife beater. The fabric sticks to him like glue. There is a guard who sits down on a white wicker chair staring at him as he climbs the stares. He disregards Merle's presence waving him along absently. The stupid spic has it out for Merle but, is not dumb enough to start with him. At times they will have a few words and the argument ends after a minute or two. Either way, when the deal goes down that asshole is on his shit list right after her.

Merle enters the house shutting the door carefully behind him. Up the long ivory painted hallway towards a closed-door on the right he travels. The bayonet retracts into the stump cover with a soft click. The idea is to sneak into the room and then run out a few minutes later. He stops in front the second to last door on the right side. The door knob feels strangely cool against his free hand. Gripping the metal is hard as his hand grows sweaty from the heat. He wipes it on the front of his dark-colored pants.

The people in Woodbury love him but, there is fear hidden behind their smiles. Even the women in town who seemed to share their bodies with everyone steer clear of him. Loneliness is not something that a man talks about freely but, it consumed him his first days in town. As the time passed, he worked hard hunting and gathering up supplies to make him self useful. The Governor saw something in him that those pricks from Atlanta did not. He was found starving, nearly bled out and suicidal. To this day, that time being abandoned on the roof of that mall has stayed with him. Andrea revealed that as far as she knows they are all alive. There is a chance that maybe even his little brother Daryl is with them.

For a while, it was easy to ignore the constant throbbing of his cock. As a young man, he was more intimidating than his classmates. Women did not fall all over him. Many avoided him like the black plague.

Jerking off became just another past time like reading comics or playing ball. The first woman he fucked was ten years older and after the fact nearly a hundred dollars richer. A string of women preceded the prostitute were all nameless and faceless. Dozens of nasty fucking skanks who left him either completely unsatisfied or just plain grossed out. Only niggers have huge cocks. The bitches should have been grateful that he even used a fucking condom. God only knows what was in their nasty traps

Without making a sound, Merle turned the knob. He pushes open the door and goes in taking slow calculated steps. Using his back, the door shuts carefully.

The room is quiet except for the faint sound of breathing coming from the person that lies in the bed which is parallel to him. He glances around at the old dated furniture leaning against various points on the wall. There is a small lamp illuminating the sandy brown paint on the walls and creating an ominous shadow on the ceiling. A soft sound draws Merle's attention back to the bed. He moves forward noticing that the sleeping person is in fact Michonne. She lies on her back with her dreadlocks splayed across the pillow fanning out covered from the waist down by a white sheet. Both arms are resting at her sides palms down. Lucky for him, Andrea is not present. Not that Blondie is not a sweet catch but, her ass would be in the way.

On the spot , Merle makes a plan to kill Michonne. To do so, he will sink his bayonet deep in the center of her chest. Without her sword, she is nothing. Andrea will be easier to deal without this bitch. Still, there is something about her that does not sit right with him. The fact that she is black only seals the deal. More importantly, the people of Woodbury could sleep easier knowing that the threat is dead. The Governor may not like what he has done but, he will respect it. After, all that Merle does for these people, this kill would be the icing on the cake.

She shifts over slightly and the sheet dips down slightly.

The purple tank top that she wears overshadowed by the faint outline of her deep chocolate nipples which press against the fabric. If she even wears a bra at all. Tits are tits.

With every breath she takes her tight stomach rises and falls revealing her abdominal muscles. The idea of killing her makes blood rush through Merle's veins. Just to see her blood pooling around a large wound in the middle of her chest puts a smile on his face.

However, an old familiar feeling emerges. It is one that couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time. Never in his life did he get hard looking at a black woman. As the saying goes there is a first time for everything. Low and behold as he looked down upon his jeans, his cock strained against the heavy fabric. People should stay with their own kind. It ain't right to mix with darkies. This is what he grew up hearing and even repeated them to his brother Daryl. The throbbing creeps up only to consume him, even as Merle tries to ignore it. The feeling is hard to come to terms with but, he can not will himself to second guess. That voice, that subconscious bastard in his head told him what the harm is. You always wanted to know what its like to fuck a black woman. Prove to yourself that the rumors are true. Here she lies unsuspecting waiting for you. They are always ready for sex.

Go on.

Do it.

Michonne shifts herself slightly over to the left feeling the sheet move off of her waist. Normally, her eyes would fly open and she would be ready in an instant. However for the past few days, she shared a bed with Andrea, her companion. By sheer luck, they found each other. Sometimes, she would get into the bed slowly trying not to wake Michonne. Andrea never seemed to master this feat after a few days. It was cool though. At the moment, there was no way that she was going to move from her spot. The mattress was way too comfortable.

Out of the blue, she could hear the sound of heavy breathing. The air smelled like sweat , liquor and piss. Whoever it was in the room with her most certainly needed a shower or two. It was more than likely one of the guards checking in but, even so this scent was awfully familiar. Before, she could open her eyes, a hand slipped under the sheet. It slides across the smooth fabric of her panties only to slip inside the band. The finger is rough and calloused as it rubs against her skin

Her body responds more so than it ever has in the past. It is as though a part of her awakens from a deep slumber. One long thick finger glides across the velvet downy hair between her thighs to caress the length of her clitoris. The finger rubs against the delicate skin gently drawing out a moan from somewhere deep within. Try as she might, Michonne can not move away let alone will herself to do so. Her nipples harden against the fabric of her tank. A slow wave builds within gradually it grasps hold of every part before letting go. The finger slides down traveling deeper into the folds of her inner lips damp with moisture that cause her eyes to open.

There is a man leaning over her with a dark look upon his pale face. He is middle-aged with bags under his blue eyes. A slight smile is on his unshaven face.

Merle? Dear God….

Yet, she can not think clearly at the moment as he continues to rub her. Her feelings set to the side as the pleasure increases. His finger encircles her bud from top to bottom. Michonne feels her vagina spill itself into the fabric of her panties. She stares into his eyes not allowing him to look away. It does not seem like he is going to. Shame hides behind Merle's stare but, he too blinded by pleasure. Andrea left an hour or so ago. There is no telling where she went. She may even return at any moment but, she has been extremely perturbed by Michonne.

Michonne feels waves grow more intense over her body as her hips start to thrust against Merle's touch. He slides his finger all around her vulva but, does not dare to slide his finger within her. More than anything, she wants him to. Needs him to but, he does not oblige. It is more frustrating than anything else. A flash of fear washes over his face for a moment and is gone as quickly as it comes. Fear of the pleasure that she holds.

Out of the blue, her panties tear away left discarded on the floor. Michonne does not make any attempt to stop him. It is as though, her body is no longer her own. Merle places one knee upon the bed. He is careful not to release his bayonet and injure her with the weapon. This is a far cry from what he came into the room for. She waits as he unbuckled his belt with one hand. The air is ripe with her scent nearly driving him mad.

Her eyes zero in on his crotch as he unbuttoned his pants. Patience is something that is not her strong suit. However, she waits in silence. Being one-handed was a crutch to some. However, Merle mastered the art of doing things quickly. The zipper goes down and out springs the glistening tip of his pale pink circumcised cock. It has been a long time since any man slipped himself within her fortress. Now is not the time for second guessing. Even if she could not stand the person attached to the dick.

He pulls down his jeans deftly with one hand. Meanwhile, she circles her thin finger around her swollen clitoris.

Merle leans over Michonne and continues to stare within her eyes crawling over her like a cat stalking his prey. She is not even a bit afraid of him. Even, when he grabs hold of her long shapely legs forcing them to bend. With his good hand, he parts them glancing down at her pussy open and glistening with her own cum.

He hesitates at first trying to will himself a bit of control. All of that goes out the window as inch by inch his cock ventures inside of her.. Michonne does not flinch, or even close her dark brown eyes. Even during sex, this woman is powerful. She smiles at him slightly before, her long lashes shut over her dark brown eyes. A slight crimson flush blooms across her breast bone making her smooth chocolate above her breast bone. It unnerves him at first but, apparently the sayings are not all true…

Merle begins a slow rhythm at first only feeling the slight contraction of her walls. She is so warm inside that his thoughts vanish. The moans emerge from her full brown lips softly like a melody as a smile spreads over her face. He shuts his eyes for a moment only to feel her touch his right forearm. The pace increases as Merle thrusts his hips more rapidly. Michonne whispers something to him but, he can not hear her. All that he hears is the sound of his breaths growing more ragged. An image of her face appears staring a hole in him. She beckons to him naked holding that long shiny slender sword.

Suddenly, he begins to thrust even harder which causes her to wrap both legs around him. She grabs hold to him staring in silence biting her bottom lip. Her finger nails dig deep into the exposed flesh on his back leaving red jagged marks. He gasps but, the pain is short-lived. It eclipsed by intense pleasure. For too long, he denied himself of this. So much so, that his body had nearly forgotten what sex felt like.

His balls draw themselves into his body in unison. The sound of his panting coupled with her endless moans are all that he can hear.

He nears the end but, is able to hold himself back from the edge. Merle tries to hold off as long as he can to gain control. The only way to do so was to make her cum first. In doing so, the victory would be sweeter. Michonne can not win this fight. She is only a fucking woman. Her eyes are fluttering as sweat pools between her breasts staining the purple fabric. The goal is to fucking her hard enough until she can not take it anymore. Merle manages to meet his goal as he feels her walls tighten around his cock holding it in a sort of grip. She cries out for a moment as a small stream of fluid spills out coating his shaft along the way.

As her body grows still, he feels his balls constricting. Semen races through both balls like a car in the Indy 500 to culminate together in his urethra. He smiles as the fluid pushes forward up the tube and is rapidly expelled inside of the walls of her vagina. A string of unintelligible words emerge from his pale pink lips accompanied by the a seizure like spasm of pleasure. He collapses upon Michonne lying with his head next to hear still shaking.. She is still panting after her own release. Her eyes grow heavy only to close as she drifts off to sleep.

Merle withdraws himself slowly from inside of Michonne. He then crawls over to the right side of the bed to rest for a minute. He must steady himself before, he can leave. The room spins ever so slightly. His mind is not all together at the moment. The Sandman throws one lone handful of golden flecks into his face. His baby blues grow heavy and abruptly shut.

Merle opens his eyes later still lying on his right side. Time has passed but, it does not matter at the moment. He turns over on to his back and begins staring at the ceiling. Then he turns his head noticing Michonne curled up facing the opposite direction. With his one good hand, Merle proceeds to cover her up with the sheet. It is time for him leave. However, part of him does not want to. The thought grips him for a moment until, he brushes it off. In six hours, the Governor is assembling a team for a mission outside of Woodbury.

Merle zips up his pants and buttons them with one hand. Her smell is all over him now. Hopefully, there is enough time to shower before anyone else gets whiff of the scent. Taking one last look at her, he exit's the room closing the door ever so gently. Maybe, she is not dead by his hand but, he conquered her. He travels through the hallway making his way towards the door. Once outside all is still. There are less guards present than before. The guy on the porch has dozed off for a moment. Typical, Merle mutters under his breath.

He walks toward his home standing a little straighter. His usually cocky smile is even more arrogant. This is Merle's own private victory. It is something that he can hold over Michonne's head for her the rest of her stay in Woodbury. Andrea will have a fit once she finds out. She will certainly separate from her now. Merle replays the entire scenario in his head as he climbs the stairs to his home. It is only when he reaches the memory of the climax that he stops with widened eyes. Through all the shit that emerged from his mouth as he came, one word is crystal clear. He vows never to tell anyone about this. Not even his brother.

Poor Merle, his victory shortened by one name…..Michonne.

Michonne awakens lying on her back with the sheet pulled up over her breasts. Andrea is sitting nearby in a wooden chair watching her. " Did you sleep well," she replies. " I came in here last night and passed out…" The words seem to mold together. She raises up slightly feeling a little sore in her lower back. The panties that she wore were missing.

It all hits her hard.

She and Merle…..

That racist, stupid ass prick came in here late last night and we..…. The memory makes Michonne shutter. Before, the walkers took over , she had a family. Her little girls where in school and running around the house acting like princesses.

But, that was all over. She pushed that memory away and shut her eyes.

" Michonne," Andrea said, " are you listening."

She snaps out of it and replies, " Yeah."

" It is so beautiful here," Andrea said, " and the people are so friendly."

Michonne scrunched up her face. She can still smell him.

"What's wrong?"

" Nothing."

" Merle was lurking around last night, " Andrea said, " I hid thinking that he was going to ask me more questions about his brother and everything. I wanted more than anything to…"

Hopefully, she did not see him come in here.

" Something about him," she replies, " creeps me out but, he seems like he has changed."

Boy, if only she knew the truth.

" I know it sounds weird," Andrea says , " but, if you met him before then you would understand how much of a change this is."

" He was worse than this," she asks.

Andrea nods her head raising both eyebrows. " He beat up a member of my group named T-Dog. It's ironic how T Dog was the only person that could have saved Merle but, he dropped the key. Accidentally of course."

The memory of Merle leaning over her with a glazed look in his eyes flashes. Her insides clench at the phantom feeling of him inside of her.

" Listen," Andrea says , " I am going to meet up with some women from the town. Want to come with me?"

Michonne shakes her head looking away wrapping herself up with the sheet.

" Okay," she replies absently getting up to leave. " Oh yeah and open the window in here. It smells so weird."

" Tell me about it," Michonne replies under her breath."

The end of Part 1

Comments are encouraged and welcomed :)