We'd been living at the prison for a couple months when Daryl first approached me. Apparently word had gotten around to him that I had some experience with hunting before the world turned to shit, and he offered to take me out to go with him. We'd been searching the woods a couple times, usually successful in our search for fresh meat. This morning he had woken me up early, mumbling something about needing to go deeper in the forest.
We'd been hiking for hours, not seeming to follow any particular tracks or trail. "How far are we going out this time?" I asked, just to break up the silence.
Without breaking stride, he answered, "Far enough."
A few more minutes passed before I dared ask another question. "What are we looking for?"
"Peace and quiet," he grumbled. I took the hint.
We walked on in silence for quite a ways before he finally stopped. I looked around us for signs of...well, anything. I didn't see any wildlife or walkers, and the only tracks I saw were easily a couple days old. He turned to face me, a strange look on his face. "What?" I asked. This was really strange behavior for Daryl.
He narrowed his eyes until they were practically closed. "Just thinkin'. You're good with the bow...how are you at hand to hand?"
"I'm okay, I guess. I took some self-defense classes before all this happened." I still had no idea what brought this on, but knew better than to question it. If Daryl was talking, it was a stupid idea to stop him...he may never start again.
"Well, let's see what you got," he said, letting the strap of his crossbow slide down his arm and dropping it gently to lean against a nearby tree. He took up a defensive pose and gestured for me to do the same. I bent my knees and brought up my hands to guard my face, ready to block any strike he threw at me. He threw a half-hearted jab toward my face, which I easily ducked, then a blocked his right cross. We circled each other, bobbing and weaving, psyching each other out. "Come on, girl, quit blocking and throw a damn punch."
I gritted my teeth and tilted my head to the right and the left, cracking my neck, then shrugged my shoulders, preparing to strike. I feigned left and went right, throwing a wide punch. Daryl dodged my fist easily and snuck around behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around my neck. "Gotta keep your strikes close. You give too much away swinging your arm around like that. A blind man would've seen that coming." He released me and ordered, "Again."
I tried again, not with any better results. I found myself wrapped up in Daryl's arms again, my back pressed close to his chest, my ass against his pelvis. "Come on, girl. Ya ain't tryin'." He wasn't letting go; it felt like his arms were actually getting tighter around me. I started to struggle, twisting and wiggling to get out of the hold, but he only tightened his grip. "What, they didn't teach you how to escape in your defense class? What the hell you gonna do, girl?"
I kept struggling, trying to fight my way out of his grasp. As I moved, I swear I could feel him getting hard behind me. An idea popped into my mind. I stopped struggling and let myself become dead weight, dropping suddenly to the forest floor. Once I landed, I reached my hand up and latched on to the crotch of his pants. I didn't mean to actually hurt him – we were just practicing after all – but I made sure he know I could bring him to his knees if I needed to. He backed off immediately.
I jumped back up to my feet and he came at me again. I brought my hands up in front of me, locking my elbows, letting my hands hit him square in the chest. The angle was off, though, and my hands ended up sliding over his chest and reaching up to his neck. He halted in his tracks, but his momentum carried him through and my fingers ended up reaching around the sides of his throat. I dropped my hands immediately, hoping I hadn't done any serious damage to his trachea. He only stood and stared at me, breathing deeply and nodding at me, apparently accepting a job well done.
We kept sparring, getting into and out of all kinds of holds. I was bracing for another hit when he suddenly diverted course and stooped down to sweep my legs out from under me. I landed on my back; he quickly came to my side. "Shit, girl. You okay?" His hands skimmed over me, checking for any serious injury. I wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline or testosterone or whatever pheromones, but something about his hands roaming over me felt absolutely delicious. I didn't want to hold back any more. I sat up, gripped the collar of his shirt with both hands, and pulled him close, crushing my lips against his.
He pulled back instantly, his hunter's eyes searching for any sign of danger, either from me or from our surroundings. Finding no threat, he brought his lips to mine, kissing me hungrily. It was all I could do to reciprocate. He leaned against me, pushing me down to the ground again. I could feel his hard dick digging into my hip as he pressed his body against mine. I reached down and cupped his growing bulge. "Seems like someone else wants to be out in the open, too," I said with a knowing smile.
Daryl growled against me as I continued fondling his growing member. He fumbled with his belt, eventually undoing the buckle and then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He grabbed my hand and shoved it into his underwear to wrap around him. "Oh...my," I whispered. He was huge – so huge my fingers could barely wrap around his girth. He kept a hold of my wrist and started pumping my hand against him, setting a steady rhythm for me to follow. He released me once I took over and slowly moved to lie down next to me.
He slid one of his hands up and under my shirt, skimming up my side until his palm covered my breast. A strange look crossed his face as he looked at where his hand had landed. "Oh, hell no…a bra out here? Naw..." He took out his buck knife and sliced through the front of my bra, the elastic in the straps immediately pulling the cups away, freeing both breasts, exposing them to his gaze. "Much better," he growled. His rough palm and fingers felt like an unlikely heaven against my already sensitive skin. He squeezed and massaged my breasts before bringing his mouth down to suck on my nipple. "Doesn't that feel better?" he asked as he switched to the other side.
It was all I could do to remember to breathe and to keep my hand pumping on his hard member. "Yes, Mr. Dixon. Yes, it certainly does," I said with a grin. I glanced up at him from underneath my eye lashes. "So, Mr. Dixon ….do you liked to be groped?"
"You mean besides what you're doin' now?" he asked, smiling against my skin.
I nodded, then realized he probably couldn't see me, so I breathed out a soft, "Yeah."
He chuckled, his breath dancing across my chest, "Just on my neck."
His response startled me. He wanted me to touch his neck? I released his dick and trailed my fingers up his torso, finally reaching his neck. My fingertips ran along the strong column of his neck, tempting and teasing him, not really sure what he wanted. His hand closed around mine and started to apply pressure. 'Oh my god! He wants me to choke him?' I thought, a little alarmed at the brutality it seemed to imply. As I closed my fingers tighter around his throat, I saw his eyes close and head roll back in absolute pleasure. I mentally shrugged and slowly increased the pressure. "Is...is this right?" I asked, showing my ignorance.
He nodded quickly. "Ya got two hands, girl. Let's do this," he growled as he grabbed my hand and replaced it on his dick.
The light bulb finally went off in my head. I sat up above him and maneuvered myself so I could reach his throat and his dick easily. I licked my hand, providing some lubrication, and started pumping my fist up and down his shaft; my other hand wrapped as far as it could around his neck. I applied more pressure this time, putting some of my body weight into it, but still being mindful so as not to actually cut off his air supply too much.
I felt and heard him moan beneath me; I was amazed I could have such an effect on this rough and tough man. He groaned out, "Tighter." I wasn't sure which hand he meant, so I squeezed both for good measure. He let out a choked off moan and bucked his hips upward, pushing his cock against my hand. I picked up my pace and pumped faster along his length.
Not long after, Daryl started jerking his hips toward my hand, his eyes wide open, and started gasping for air. Something told me not to let up with either hand, and before I knew it, he was shooting hot strands of cum all over my hand and the lower part of his stomach. I kept both of my hands engaged until I was sure he was finished, then pulled my hands away and reached for the bandana he always kept in his pocket to start cleaning up the mess.
After I'd cleaned him up, he slowly sat up and gently cupped a hand under my jaw, pulling me close to him for a kiss. "Thanks," he whispered, kissing me again, deeper this time, letting his tongue find its way into my mouth.
"You're welcome," I replied. I figured it was probably pretty difficult to try and do that on his own, and to find someone he could trust enough with that little secret was probably even more so. It dawned on me just how much this whole hunting trip meant to him, and what it meant for me. This was the start of something big, and I couldn't wait to see where it would go next.