A/N: Sooooo... Happy New Year, y'all! This took a while, huh? My sincerest apologies. I really thought I'd be done with this weeks ago, but all I got for Christmas was lazy, so... here we are! But hey, maybe, by some miracle, it's somewhat worth the wait. (It's not. But try to enjoy it anyway? Haha.) (I'm sorry for how long this is.) -Ash
It was just after midnight as Rick found himself in the middle of his flourishing farm, gazing around proudly at all the progress he'd made with it in the last several months. To the point where he had the luxury of picking through an assortment of fruits for his family's breakfast in the morning, even if his sole reason for being out there in the middle of the night was to avoid his girlfriend. All of it was a reminder of what a strange, beautiful life he'd come to have.
"Rick, what the hell are you doing?"
The sound of Glenn's hushed voice startled him from his musings, and he turned back to his friend with his full grocery basket, noticing that Glenn was re-sheathing his knife. "Oh, hey," he greeted him casually.
"Yeah, hey," he frowned back at his leader and best friend, particularly confused by his choice of attire - a t-shirt and boxers, topped off with a pair of yellow flip-flops that likely belonged to Michonne. "Are you... high right now?"
"What?" he chuckled, confused by the query. "No."
"Then why the fuck are you picking fruit at one in the morning," he hissed back at him. "I thought you were a walker."
"Oh," Rick nodded, scratching his fingers through the back of his head, realizing he probably did look rather crazy out there. But then, that wasn't far from the truth after twelve sexless days, and now he had Michonne actively working to get him to break. "It's a little rough at home right now."
"Since when?" he grimaced in concern this time, wondering when and what happened. From what he knew about Rick's life, which was quite a bit, there hadn't been a whole lot wrong as of late.
"Since Michonne and I somehow ended up in a bet that doesn't allow us to have sex," he revealed with a sigh, gazing into the distance at his own house.
Glenn's eyes and mouth widened as he came to understand exactly what was happening here. "Oh, man."
"And she keeps doin'... things to get me to break," he added, shaking his head, thinking about her in their bed at that very moment, naked from head to toe. It got so hot in their room, and not because of the actual temperature, he knew he would never get to sleep. "I needed some air."
"You could just lose, you know."
Rick immediately cut his eyes in his friend's direction, not taking kindly to his choice of words. "If I were interested in that, I would've done it twelve days ago."
"You've been at this for twelve days?" Glenn nearly shouted. "Dude."
"I know."
"You know what? Maggie and I did this once. It lasted maybe a week?" He was questioning his own accuracy, but figured it didn't matter much. "Point being, when we finally ended it, it was probably the best sex we'd ever had in our lives," he chuckled in recollection. "There were no losers."
He nodded again, albeit obstinately, with his jaw clenched just slightly, still hating the idea of not actually winning. "Logically speaking, I know you're right. But it's also been twelve days, and I just don't like the idea of givin' up now. I wanna win."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Glenn smirked. "But let the record show, you're picking strawberries in your pajamas in the middle of the night to avoid fucking your girlfriend. You've already lost."
Rick let out a low growl, knowing his friend was right, as much as he hated to actually admit it. "You may not know this about me," he said, trading his straightened brow for a smile, "but I can be stubborn sometimes."
"You?" he asked, feigning shock at the notion. "That is brand new information."
He chuckled at Glenn's sarcastic tone and gestured his head in the direction of their home, situated just beside the farm. "How's Maggie?"
"About as well as can be expected for a woman thirty-four weeks into pregnancy while it's nearly ninety degrees at midnight."
Having been through that twice now, both his children being born in late summer, he knew that feeling all too well and nodded sympathetically. "Well we've got plenty of ice if you need it."
"Thanks, but I don't think I'll be at your house for a while," he joked. "Not until well after you've settled your little bet."
"What? Why not?"
"Because my wife is all the crazy I can handle right now."
Rick laughed again, nodding in reluctant agreement as he started to head off toward his home. He wasn't so sure about surrendering so soon, but Glenn had helped put things in a bit of perspective, at least - losing the bet probably wouldn't be the end of the world. "All right, I'll see you tomorrow," he capped off their conversation.
Heading in the opposite direction, Glenn waved him off, but not before calling back to him, "Go have sex with your girlfriend!"
"Good mornin'."
Michonne glanced back at the sound of Rick's voice as he entered their kitchen, noticing the happy grin plastered on his stupid face, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was so cheerful about. As far as she was concerned, neither one of them would or should be happy until she got some dick. "Is it?"
"I think so." He went to Judith's side of the table, where Michonne was arranging apple slices in her tray, and he left a quick kiss on each of their right cheeks. "It's a beautiful day."
"If you say so," she smirked back, squeezing his hand before he could head back into the kitchen for his morning coffee. She hated that she was utterly enchanted by the sight of him sauntering off, but if there was one intangible thing she loved, it was to watch Rick walk away. "I haven't made breakfast yet," she called after him. "This one decided on apples before I could get started."
"I can start on somethin'," he offered, making his way around the counter. It appeared that Michonne had set out some oats, perhaps for oatmeal, along with a ziplock bag of ground beef, a bowl of eggs and another full of cherries he'd brought home the night before. "What the hell were you gonna make?"
She chuckled, realizing the collection of items on their counter didn't quite make sense as a cohesive meal. "That wasn't breakfast," she promised. "I was trying to figure out how to ration our food for the day."
"Oh, well we're having dinner at Deanna's, so you don't have to work your magic today."
Well that wasn't quite what she wanted to hear - she had plans to work some magic in the bedroom, if nothing else. "Is that so?" she raised an eyebrow as she moved around the table to sit across from Judith. "Why dinner over there?"
"I think she just likes havin' people over." He grabbed the bowl of cherries, taking one for himself as he came to join his girls at the table. "But we're gonna discuss the party, what supplies we need, who's gonna go get them. Stuff like that."
Michonne nodded absently as she wiped Judith's mouth, the two of them giggling at one another as the toddler slobbered over her apple slice. It wasn't until Michonne glanced back at Rick, noting the way he was sucking on that cherry, that she was catapulted back into her reality. "Wait, what party?"
"The one we talked about yesterday?" He laughed at the scowl on her face that said she obviously didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Do you listen to me at all?"
Well it was certainly difficult to when he was sitting there eating cherries like they were her pussy. Or maybe she was just so horny that everything he did seemed sexual to her. It was bad enough he was wearing her favorite denim shirt, the one that made his eyes look like a summer day and his skin look the way butter pecan ice cream tasted. But now, those fucking lips wrapped around that little red bud was going to be the death of her. She let out a sigh that turned into a groan as she took a frustrated bite of her apple. Another day of this and she really might end up losing this bet.
Rick's eyes narrowed at her strange sound effect as he licked his lips of cherry juice. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you su-"
"Yes," she cut him off, unable to even look in his direction any longer. He was driving her crazy, and she was fairly certain he wasn't even doing it on purpose. It was almost as though he'd forgotten about the bet altogether. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he'd cheated in some form or another. "So we're not gonna talk about you actually leaving the house last night to get away from me?"
"Well you came to bed butt naked," he smirked. "What else was I supposed to do?"
"You could fuck me," she muttered under her breath, taking another bite of her apple. "Where did you even go?"
"Just… outside." He smiled as he noticed Judith reach out for Michonne, obviously wanting to be held by her instead of staying in her high chair. As if he weren't already madly in love with this woman, watching her with their kids always made him stop and take notice. She was so good with them, and it was one of many reasons he fell in love with her in the first place - the way she interacted with Carl. But he realized in seeing her with Judith that he just enjoyed seeing her explore her maternal side. Or perhaps seeing her with a baby made him want to make another one with her. Either way, he was riveted, unable to take his eyes off the two of them as they laughed their way through their breakfast. "Are you busy this mornin'," he wondered out loud, almost hating to interrupt them.
"I'm on duty at ten," Michonne answered, running her fingers through their little one's little curls. "Why?"
Rick shook his head as he glanced at his watch. "You think Olivia can take Judith for the next hour?"
Michonne bit her lip as she looked back at her boyfriend, questioning whether this was the moment. She knew she couldn't trust the gleam in his eye, because her horniness was making her see things that weren't necessarily there. But making plans to get Judith out of the house? What else could it be for but sex? Was he finally giving up? "I don't… know," she answered carefully, not wanting to seem too eager. "Bring me your radio and I can ask her."
Licking his lips, he turned to grab his utility belt from the coffee table, but before he could even reach the living room, Carl came bursting through the front door with his best friend Ron in tow. "Goddamn it," he mumbled to himself.
Michonne's sentiments were the same, another sigh accompanying her own expletive. "Fuck," she whispered almost inaudibly.
"Hey," Carl greeted his family for the first time since the afternoon before, and he couldn't help but notice that only Judith was happy to see him, waving at him as he took a seat at the head of the table. His parents, however, seemed preoccupied, to put it mildly. Glancing back and forth between them, trying and failing to read their expressions, he decided to just ask, "You guys aren't fighting, are you?"
Michonne frowned, unable to remember the last time she and Rick actually had an argument that lasted longer than three minutes. "No?"
"What are you two doin' here?" Rick chimed in, praying to whatever god there was that they weren't planning to stay.
"We're here for breakfast," he answered, his intonation implying that should've been obvious.
"You all don't have food at your house?" he directed to Ron.
"We do," Ron chuckled, taking one of Judith's apples for himself as he settled in next to her chair. "But we wanted Michonne's pancakes."
"Yeah, I did, too," Rick sighed. He gave his girlfriend a glance, hoping she had some creative way to kick their kids out of the house that didn't make them terrible parents. But alas, she was too deep into mom mode to even notice.
"I'll make pancakes, but you're cleaning the kitchen. And you're watching your sister all day," she told Carl.
"Why do I get the feeling I'd be doing that anyway," Carl smirked in reply.
"Because you were."
"Well I guess I'm gonna head on out," Rick announced with a large dose of frustration in his voice. He walked around the table to where Judith and Michonne were sitting, leaning in to leave a short kiss on the top of his daughter's head before looking to his girlfriend. "I'll see you later," he told her. He finished with a kiss to her perfect lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth for a brief but heady liplock, a smile on his face as he pulled back.
Michonne smiled in response, almost forgetting the two teenagers in the room as she cupped his face, not wanting to let him go. He tasted like cherries, and she so desperately wanted to consume him. If he wasn't ready to end this bet, she was almost certain that she was. "You will," she replied pointedly, running her fingers through his hair before he could stand again. "Tonight."
He nodded as he walked away, inwardly reminding himself that he could wait. He'd made it thirteen days, how hard could another few hours be? "Tonight," he promised.
"So how are you all surviving this weather we've been having?" Deanna grinned warmly at her dinner guests. She thought it was so nice to see everyone dressed in their summer shirts and dresses, even if it was more out of function than fashion. But they looked like they'd been lifted right out of their old lives, and she loved it for them.
As Morgan started to reply, like the polite soul that he was, Michonne glanced over to her boyfriend, who looked about as engaged in the conversation as she was. Which was to say not at all. He was essentially just swirling spaghetti around his fork, with no apparent intent of actually eating any of it, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same things she had; if sex had consumed his mind as much as it had hers throughout the day. She didn't have space for much else at all, to the point where she had mentally blocked out the other people in the room. The conversation was just white noise while she imagined fucking Rick on the couch the very second they got home. Because she was so ready to go, so impatient to rip his clothes off, they wouldn't even be able to make it upstairs. And as she sat there imagining it, the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of her was so palpable, she had to cross her legs to mitigate her reaction to it.
"How much longer do we have to be here?" she leaned into him to whisper.
He tried not to smile, but he had an idea of why she was impatient to leave, and he was in quite the same boat. "We just got here," he replied just as quietly.
"So an hour?" she suggested hopefully, even if she knew that was unreasonable. Deanna's dinner parties tended to drone on forever, complete with poker games for dessert.
"Stop," he chuckled. He knew what she was trying to do, getting him all hot and bothered when it was clear that she was just as ready to end this bet as he was. "We've gone this long," he continued to whisper, "we can wait."
"Oh, we can?" With a frustrated sigh, she pulled away, returning to her dinner and her wandering thoughts. She took a long gulp of wine, chasing it with some ice water as she glanced around the room at everyone else, seemingly enjoying their dinner. The smiles on their faces saying that they were enjoying the conversation, too. How nice it was to not have a million things to worry about, a simple spaghetti dinner with friends being the highlight of the week. Their lives were so mundane, she and Rick had manufactured a problem in their relationship. And she loved it.
"How about you, Michonne?" Deanna came crashing through her thoughts to ask.
She obviously had no idea what was going on, and looked back at their friend like a deer in headlights. "I'm sorry, I missed it," she admitted, setting her glass back on the table.
"Oh, we were talking about the ways we've been surviving this weather," she grinned back at her. "I was just saying how my hot flashes and this heat wave are a killer."
Michonne offered a tense chuckle in response, having no idea how to respond to that. Her preoccupation with getting laid was really stifling her usual charm. "I spent half the day yesterday dousing myself in cold water," she finally added to the conversation as she glanced over at Rick. She was suddenly reminded of how much that affected him, and it made her smile.
"It's been brutal," Rick chimed in. He began to shift in his chair just thinking about her in that wet t-shirt. "Might be best to wait 'til the heat breaks for us to have our party."
"Probably so," Reg agreed from across the table. "It's not like we've got a pool for everyone to jump in."
"It was so hot today, I almost jumped into the pond," Maggie submitted through a mouth full of garlic bread. "I was tryin' to work until the baby came, but I think I gotta tap out," she told Rick, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," he was quick to say. "I've been tellin' you to go home for weeks now."
"You lasted much longer than anyone in your position should," Glenn concurred, taking her hand into his.
"Well lots of women work through pregnancy, and I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't."
"Because it's hot as hell," Rick chuckled. He felt Michonne's hand on his shoulder as she moved out of her seat, and he looked back, wondering where she was going.
"I'll be right back," she quietly announced, her fingers lingering on his back before she disappeared from the table.
"So I guess that leaves us one farmer," Deanna realized, smiling back at Rick. "Will you be alright out there by yourself?"
"I think I'll be just fine," he was quick to assure her, knowing she was anxious to help in some other capacity. But the last thing he wanted was Deanna or any of the other Alexandrians on his farm. "Great thing about havin' a teenager is you can make 'em do whatever you want."
"That's true," she pointed back at him. "Although the older my boys got, the less that became true."
"We're probably lucky that Carl's defiant phase was short-lived," Rick chuckled, thinking back to that trying time at the prison. "Should probably knock on wood, but he's been good lately."
"How old is he now?" Reg questioned.
"He'll be sixteen in September."
"Jesus," Glenn piped up, popping a crouton in his mouth. "He was so little when I met him."
"Yeah, well you better get ready for yours to grow like a little weed," Carol warned with a warm smile from her end of the table. "It all goes so fast."
"Too fast," Rick agreed.
"Have you and Michonne thought about going this route," Deanna questioned, gesturing toward the Rhees, and Maggie's growing baby bump, specifically.
He smiled both awkwardly and nervously, unsure of how to reply to the intrusive question. Even if they had, he didn't exactly intend on revealing it to all their friends and neighbors. Hell, for nearly two weeks now, they hadn't even done the thing that would make a baby. They were still just enjoying their relationship. "Well… we're not opposed to it," he cleared his throat. "So maybe one day."
"And what about you two," she animatedly pointed over to Abraham and Sasha.
Rick let out a small sigh, relieved that the focus had shifted to someone else, just as Michonne returned to the table. He felt a quiver shoot down his spine when her fingers grazed the back of his neck before reclaiming her seat. And he couldn't help but notice she moved her chair closer to him as she pulled it back up to the table, which made him smile as he gazed at the side of her face. She was so gorgeous, her skin looking positively radiant against the bright fuschia color of her sundress.
"Hey," she grinned back at him, noting his doting stare. She resisted the urge to kiss him for fear of being unable to stop, but she took his hand beneath the table, waiting for him to notice exactly what she had balled up inside it.
His eyebrow raised as he felt the soft cotton against his palm, and he wondered whether she was passing him a tissue. But he looked down to see the turquoise fabric, and he swallowed visibly as realization struck that he was holding her panties. She already wasn't wearing a bra, much to his delight and chagrin, but knowing she was now naked underneath that dress had him dying inside. "Why are you trying to kill me?" he whispered.
She rested her hand high on his thigh, trying not to obviously smile at the way he tensed at her touch. "What's wrong?"
"You win," he mumbled, picking up his glass to knock back a big swig of wine.
Michonne turned to him in mock surprise, her wanton stare looking him up and down. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
Rick's jaw clenched and he swallowed hard once more, knowing he was going to have to listen to her gloat about this forever, once all was said and done. And he probably could've held out for a draw, but he didn't care anymore - he couldn't take any more of the teasing, the torture, especially as he sat there at dinner just trying to hold onto whatever shreds of composure he had left. "You win," he repeated, leaning into her as he stuffed her underwear in his pocket. "But please, let's just get through this." He wasn't quite sure how he was going to do that when his mouth was literally watering as he thought about how she was sitting there with no panties on. How he couldn't wait to get home and fuck her until he couldn't anymore.
"Fine," she grinned, quite satisfied with herself. She tried to resume her meal, all while thinking about what was going to occur in her bedroom in approximately two hours. In fact, she could already feel herself getting wet, her nipples perking up as she pictured it. "I don't even wanna eat anymore," she quietly commented to him, setting down her fork.
"I just wanna eat you," he whispered. The two of them locked eyes as his free hand slowly moved up her thigh until it was beneath her dress, and he didn't stop until he was touching her bare pussy. His forefinger gently grazing her clit, while his ring finger slipped between her lips, finding she was already ready to go. He smirked to himself as she wriggled in response, squeezing her legs together, effectively trapping his hand between her thighs.
"Now you're trying to kill me," Michonne breathed, closing her eyes as she lowered her head. His long fingers pushed in and out of her, driving her out of her mind, and she was certain she was doing a bad job of pretending nothing was happening.
"What are you two over there gossiping about," Deanna wondered, noticing the lovebirds had gone off to their own little world.
Michonne looked up, unused to being caught off guard, but as Rick's hand slipped out of her, she quickly found her cool and answered before he could guiltily stutter out something nonsensical. "We were just talking about the wine," she grinned, picking up her nearly empty glass. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rick return to his meal, licking his fingers as he did, and she wanted to scream. She loved and hated how dirty he was sometimes. "Rick was asking if we had any of this at home, but I wasn't sure. Is this a Chianti?"
"It is," Deanna grinned. She knew better than to be surprised by Michonne at that point, but the woman never ceased to impress her. "Are you a wine connoisseur, or do you just know something about everything?"
"Oh god. Neither," she chuckled. "I just - I was in Tuscany just before the turn, and I felt like I remembered this taste so vividly."
Rick looked on, both dumbfounded and amazed that his girlfriend was generating an entire conversation out of thin air, all based on a lie. "I like it a lot," he submitted, feebly attempting to keep up with her.
"Well we had a whole case of it, I'll send you home with some," Deanna happily offered. "Reg, when we finish dinner, you make sure to go down to the basement and get them a couple of bottles."
He nodded with his mouth full of spaghetti. "Will do, dear."
"You have a wine cellar?" Michonne wondered, now genuinely invested in the discussion. "How did I miss that?"
"Oh, no no," Reg chuckled, wiping his mouth. "It's essentially just boxes of wine we've collected for parties and such."
"We actually had a very nice one back at our old home in Ohio," Deanna appended, "but this is our post-apocalypse version, I suppose."
The rest of the table laughed, while Michonne looked over to Rick, praying to whatever god there was that he had picked up where she was going with this. "Well if you don't mind, I would love to take a look and see what else you have."
"Of course," she waved away the small gesture as no big deal. "Anytime you want."
She smiled back, figuring she and Rick could sneak away for a bit once the poker game started. And so she tried to finish her food, taking small bites of spaghetti, and taking sips from Rick's wine once she finished her own. But as she sat there practically wetting herself as her juices streamed down her pussy, she knew she was too horny to wait any longer. "So I'm just gonna go look now," she declared, standing from the table.
Rick looked up in confusion, unsure what prompted her to hop out of her chair so suddenly. But as he watched her sway toward the basement, unable to take his eyes off of her dress clinging to her ass, reminding him just how naked she was underneath it, there was no way he could just sit there. "I'm gonna go with her," he said, finishing off his drink before disappearing from the table, too.
Michonne smiled to herself as the unmistakable sound of Rick's boots pounding against the cement floor filled the room. She had been examining the tables full of boxes of wine, or at least pretending to, under the one dimming light the basement offered. But mostly, she was just waiting for Rick, hoping that he wouldn't leave her hanging down there. Luckily, they tended to operate on the same page, so it didn't take long for him to follow, and finally, their love drought was going to end.
"At first, I wasn't sure what you were doin'," Rick confessed, walking up behind her. He rested his hands on her hips, closing his eyes as she pressed her backside against his crotch, his weeklong perpetual erection growing bigger and harder by the second.
She let out a quiet moan when he reached around the front of her, his right hand snaking beneath her dress to finger her once again. She could hear how wet she was to his touch and he was only making her more so as he slid along her slick folds. His other hand pulled the strap of her dress down her shoulder until her left breast was exposed, and he eagerly squeezed it in his hand. Her nipple rock hard beneath his palm while his lips grazed her naked back, licking and sucking at her velvety soft skin like she was dessert. "We have to hurry," she whispered, her body shivering as he mercilessly fucked her with his fingers.
Rick smiled against her skin, because as much as he enjoyed making her squirm, he was sure that wouldn't be a problem. And that became even clearer as she bent over the table and began to grind against him, leaving a noticeable wet spot on his jeans. He was so turned on, he couldn't be sure whether it came from her or himself.
"Rick…" Michonne whispered. She placed her hand over his, guiding his long fingers deeper inside her. The smacking sound of his lips on her skin, the way he smelled of a summer day with a hint of the wine on his lips, the feeling of his bulge pressed between her cheeks - her senses were going haywire. She could feel herself close to an orgasm, his fingers expertly sending her to the edge, though she took great pleasure in rubbing her own clit to get her there faster. "God," she breathed, her eyes squeezing shut as a tiny wave of ecstasy washed over her.
He felt her warm nectar coat his hand, and he withdrew from inside her, sensually sucking it from his fingers for the second time that night. Thinking about how he couldn't wait to get home and properly taste her once they had all the time in the world. But for now, this would do just fine, considering his dick was practically bursting out of his jeans. "You ready?" he murmured against her ear, his tongue making another appearance, licking her skin as he spoke.
"Yes," she answered instantly. She lifted one knee onto the table, giving him better access to her opening from the back, hoping it would incite him to get his pants off faster. She had been ready since the day they started this stupid bet. "Please."
"Jesus," Rick whispered at the sight, biting at his bottom lip. He palmed her perfect, luscious ass with one hand as he rubbed at the erection in his pants with the other, all while staring down her juicy pussy. He needed to compose himself if he had any chance of not exploding the second he was inside her. But it was a wonderfully agonizing feeling, wanting this woman so badly he could hardly contain himself.
Hurriedly, he unbuckled his belts and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them fall to the floor, where his gun made a loud thud that probably drew attention from upstairs. But he didn't care enough to stop, maneuvering his boxers from his hardened length until they could slip to his feet, too. Out of habit, he stroked himself a couple more times, all while Michonne looked back at him, a sly smirk on her face as she watched him. She'd won and she knew it; it showed. But so did he, because he had every intention of enjoying the shit out of this.
Rick touched his fingers to her pussy one more time, ensuring that she was good and wet, and he didn't waste any time sliding his thick cock inside her. They both let out audaciously loud moans, a consequence of two people who hadn't fucked in far too long. And Michonne immediately clenched her walls around him, pulling him in deeper, and he couldn't take it, pulling out just as quickly as he'd gotten in. On his second try, he took his time, gliding the tip against her opening until she begged him to stop.
"Rick," she whined, "come on." She let out a sigh of both pleasure and surprise when he indulged her and then indulged in her, pushing into her tight pussy until his scrotum was knocking on her thighs. Her toes locked as he filled her up and then slowly pulled back out, commencing with long strokes that made her want to howl with delight. She could feel every inch of him, down to the veins as he slid through her wet walls. "Fuck," she moaned, unsure whether to even tell him to pick up the pace. This might've been all she could handle after two sexless weeks.
But Rick was already headed that way, squeezing her ass in his hands as his thrusts quickened, hypnotized by the way her cheeks would jiggle each time his hips connected with them. Sometimes he couldn't believe he'd gone his whole life without an ass that moved like this; it somehow made sex with her even better, which he didn't think was possible after their first time together. His tempo gradually increased every other minute until he was pounding into her with thrusts that had the boxes of wine rattling in sync with the two of them. He was holding onto Michonne's hips like they were handlebars and she was the ride of his life. The slap of their skin was eventually drowned out by the sound of her guttural moans, and all of it only made him go faster and harder.
"God," Michonne was whimpering as he fucked her like there was no tomorrow. She was bent over the table, her tits hanging out of her dress and slapping the cool surface as she tried to grip the edge for balance. Though all she wanted to do was scream out loud so that everyone knew how good she was getting it down there in that basement. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Rick."
He couldn't respond with anything but a series of grunts, continuing in and out with the steady rhythm of a drum. She was so wet, and so was he for that matter, they already had cum dripping onto the floor. The smell of their sex pervaded the already dank air of the room, while he could hear the footsteps of the guests above them. He wondered if anyone could hear them - Michonne's unabashed moans mixed in with his growly groans, the sopping sound of his dick relentlessly pumping in and out of her, or her ass repeatedly slapping against his thighs. Because it all sounded so loud to him; his senses, like Michonne's, were in overdrive, and he was in love with everything about it.
That familiar orgasmic feeling was starting to overtake Michonne, and as much as she wanted this to last, she couldn't stop it from coming. His stroke was so good, he had her legs shaking, her face pressed against the table as she whimpered through the unbearable pleasure, but she simply could not take any more. She contracted herself around him one more time, that wonderful tingling starting in her knees and coursed through her body, exploding in her core and it didn't stop until it reached her arms and fingers, even her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut, drowning in the sensation of an absolutely sublime climax. She felt drunk, her body limp with satisfaction as she felt her fluids dripping down between her thighs.
Rick's heavy breaths turned to sighs of relief at the moment he knew Michonne was taken care of, and quite well by the looks of things. He always forced himself to stay in control until the second she came, and then he would go with her. This was no different, his thrusts grinding to a slow halt, his hands gripping her delectable ass as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling, and he erupted with a final, delighted grunt as his cum filled her up, leaving something of a mess behind. But with his heart beating out of his chest, and the entire lower half of his body wanting to collapse, he felt like he'd just died and gone to a heaven where only the two of them existed and nothing else mattered.
"God… damn," Michonne sighed, hating to feel Rick pull out of her, but knowing she needed the interlude. Exhausted, she picked herself up from the table, and turned to face him, pulling him in for a kiss before they could start to, or at least attempt to, clean themselves up. She locked her arms around his neck and planted her fingers in his sweaty hair because she didn't want to let him go, and not because she could barely stand up straight. But for that reason, too. Her lips claimed his, her tongue slipping into his mouth, and the two of them passionately devoured one another as if they wouldn't get the chance to do it again in another few hours. Because why not?
They smiled at each other as they separated, and Rick attempted to fix Michonne's wandering headband, pulling it back into place from the top of her head. He was fairly certain they would be giving themselves away the second they set foot back upstairs - not only was he a sweaty mess, but Michonne had that after-fuck glow that would be quite telling under regular lights. "Let's just stay here forever," he quietly suggested, twirling one of her locs between his fingers.
She knew he was joking about wanting them to physically stay in that basement forever, but figuratively speaking, she did hope they stayed in this exact place for the rest of their lives. The place where they had fun, making ridiculous bets and defiling random rooms in their friends' homes. Wanting each other so badly that it was maddening to be apart for even a matter of days. Happily, stupidly, utterly in love. "That's fine with me," she agreed with a grin, her lips landing on his once more. "So long as we're still clear that I won?"
Rick playfully rolled his eyes as he turned to retrieve his pants. But he couldn't help but laugh, because it was hard to pretend that he didn't love having a woman that challenged him in every way. "You did win," he admitted, pretending to still be belligerent about it. And sure, he might've lost this bet, but he knew he'd already won, long before any wagers were made. "This time."