They agree to use the rest of the week to the absolute fullest they can.
They both understand that once Daryl and Andrea get home, this has to stop. Because they just can't risk it, being found out by their respective siblings. Shit would hit the fan hard, should that happen.
Merle calls the grocery, and speaks with Haley, tells her that Amy isn't feeling well, and it looks like she may be out for the entire week. If Amy weren't so preoccupied she might laugh, ruin the whole thing. As it is, she's barely concealing the loud little mewls of pleasure as she bounces on Merles lap, ridig him with enthusiasm, as told to do.
"Naw, she looks like she's gonna need at least a week Haley. She's sweaty and pretty flushed. And she's hot. Real hot." Merle says into the phone nonchalantly, like everything is normal. She gasps a little, as his thumb finds her clit, and he starts rubbing. How can he be so calm? Isn't she doing anything to him? Its driving her crazy, the fact that she's got him in such a situation, and he isn't showing any signs of being affected by what she's doing.
She swallows. She can feel the pressure building at the base of her spine, knows it won't be long until she hits her orgasm, and Merle is still talking with Haley. It sounds like Haley wants to come over later, probably to do exactly what Amy is doing now, and a stab of jealousy hits her. 'Merle doesn't need you anymore!' she wants to scream at Haley through the phone. She's especially happy to not have to deal with Haley this week. Now that Merle has given in, she feels a bit possessive. She's likely to say something that she would regret later, and all she needs is a vindictive Haley to deal with at work.
"Kay girl. I'll see ya round. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her." Merle says finally, and he hits the off button. He sighs, and his lips curl up into a rare, genuine smile. His eyes rake up and down her body and she shivers. He reaches his free hand out, lazily almost, and strokes the skin between her breasts. It's a gentle touch, with something akin to tenderness in it. Which is dangerous, because this, whatever this is that they're doing, it can't be tender. It can't be special or loving or anything other than lustful. Because it will end, and they both know that they can't get attached. Emotions are forbidden unless they're lust or pleasure.
Amy looks at him.. "Hey,"she says, and by 'hey' she doesn't mean hello. When she says 'hey' what she really means 'get it together sunshine'. He purses his lips for a minute, an odd look passing over his face and she stops moving. But then its gone, and his reaction is instantaneous.
"Did I say you could stop?" he says gruffly. "No I don't think I did. Punishment, lil' girl." He chortles, sliding out of her so he can stand up. Her face heats up.
Last night, after their first frantic time, they had continued, the sex somewhat tentative at first, and as they got more comfortable, they had thrown all caution to the wind. Merle had found out, by accident, that Amy had a certain spot on her body, under the small of her stomach. If he touched her there, she reverted into a babbling mess, moaning and writhing in pleasure so intense that it nearly hurt. And she'd do absolutely anything, to make it stop. He had quickly devised a sort of game, complete with a points system. Amy had a feeling that he'd encountered a similar magic spot on some other woman. He offered the idea up too quickly for her to believe he had only just made it up.
Basically, it was a dirty version of Simon Says. They each had three days of the week as Simon, and what that person said was indisputable. And if you did something without them saying you could, you were eligible for a punishment. If the punishment made you say the secret word or phrase, the Simon won a point. So depending on how good you were at listening, the Simon could gain a lot of points if you weren't careful. At the end of the week, whoever had the most points won, and could ask for whatever they wanted on the last day of the week. The last day before Andrea and Daryl got home.
Stupidly, she had said agreed, thinking that she could hold her own against Merle. She wasn't sure what she wanted if she won, but she had been sure she would think of something good. So what if he already knew about her "magic" sensitive spot? He wouldn't use it against her every time...he seems like a creative kind of guy, he would probably think of a hundred things different ways to try to make her say the secret word...right?
Wrong.
She was so very, very wrong.
Turns out Merle is the kind of guy who will play the same card a billion times if necessary. He doesn't like to lose. And even if that card is the same every time, even if it gets boring as fuck, using it constantly is no skin off his nose. Especially if it guarantees a win every time. Merle already had two points as a result, and she was beginning to suspect that his ruthlessness wasn't simply an act. He really did enjoy it at times. This was one of those times apparently.
"C'mere,"he says, walking to the picture window in the living room. She follows him slowly, attempting to figure out just what he has in store for her. He stops her right in front of the window, which is covered currently, with a thick blue curtain. His knees bump the built-in bench that Andrea put in so Amy could read there on nice days. This is the one window in the entire house that Andrea had insisted on hanging an opaque curtain. The rest had adjustable blinds and translucent curtains that flared prettily in the slightest breeze. There was a reason for that too; that reason was named Mrs. Larcrest. The only neighbour they actually had. For the most part, their little house was isolated on the edge of the woods, and they liked it that way. They didn't bother anyone, and no one bothered them. Mrs. Larcrest was the exception to this. A bitter, old witch of a woman, with a nasty temper and a dirty vocabulary, she was the one fatal downside to living in Georgia.
Daryl actually hated her. Legitimately. No one in the household was fond of her, and not even Amy could bring herself to like the crabby old shit. Gods know she tried. She liked just about everyone, and she couldn't stand old Mrs. Larcrest. Whenever there was a rap on the door, you could be sure it was Mrs. Larcrest, ready to complain about the smallest, most ridiculous things. She once blamed Daryl for her garden flowers being dug up by raccoons.
"You attract them. Riff-raff always attracts pests. You're like a dirty, redneck, racoon magnet." she had said primly, leaving Daryl standing there, jaw clenched tight with anger. Amy had been sure that had he been given the opportunity, he would've shot her with his crossbow. He still looks at it wistfully when anyone mentioned the old hag. Andrea had ordered this curtain with Mrs. Larcrest in mind, because on top of being exceedingly irritating, she was also exceedingly snoopy, and Andrea had caught her on several occasions peeking in their window during construction.
Merle opens the curtains. Its mid morning and bright sun pours into the room, catching on the dust motes and making them glow. Amy lets out an indignant gasp, and attempts to cover herself. Merles first Simon Says of the day, had been that she'd have to walk around the entire day completely naked. She hadn't seen this as much of a challenge, but she hadn't expected this either. Mrs. Larcrest is sure to be home, it's too early for her to be in town harassing the other townsfolk just yet. Damn Merle. What is he thinking?
"Simon says drop yer hands and press yerself up to the window." Merle says, mirth colouring his voice.
"What?!" Amy yelps, her eyes attempting to skewer him.
"C'mon lil' girl. If ya don't wanna you could always just give me another point...or ya could fight back. Make it interesting at least." He says, eyes glimmering.
She stiffens, her jaw set in determination. She won't be giving him another point today. She just can't. Without a word, she drops her arms, and slowly walks to the window, squinting as the sun catches her full in the face. She sighs heavily, before kneeling on the bench, and pressing her skin to the glass. She shivers. Goosebumps break out on her bare skin and her nipples harden as the cold window pane connects with the front of her body.
"Good. That's good," Merle says. "Simon says don't move a muscle jus' yet."
Amy can hear him leave the room behind her, his steps heavy on the stairs. She doesn't dare turn around, her eyes locked on the barely visible front of Mrs. Larcrest's house. Maybe if she doesn't move, the old bag won't notice she's there should she glance out her front window. She doesn't know exactly how long Merle takes, but by the time he gets back, the front of her body is freezing, the cold seeped into her flesh, and she's shivering in earnest.
"A little cold are we?" Merle says cheerfully, and Amy frowns.
Suddenly, Merle is there, pressed up to her, her arms caught in his grip above her head. She inhales sharply. He's naked, she can feel the warmth of his bare skin on her back, and it makes her want to sigh and lean into him, but she can't move because he hasn't told her she can yet. His cock is hard, pressing firmly against her butt, and she forgets that she's cold, and irritated as lust bites at her.
"Ya can move now baby doll," he breathes into her ear, and she immediately arches her back into him, pressing into his erection longingly. "Always so horny." Merle mutters in approval.
"Please?" she pleads softly, and Merle chuckles before giving her what she wants.
She doesn't even care that they could get caught by their stupid old bitch of a neighbour now, as Merle thrusts himself up into her, pushing her up hard against the window to get a better angle. She moans, and Merle bites at her neck. She's in such an awkward position, and it dawns on her that Merle is at an advantage, because he's in complete control. She can't even move properly to fight back. That's the last coherent thing she remembers, as Merles hand snakes around to press the soft skin below her belly.
"Scream fer me," she hears him say.
And she does. She moans and yelps, mewls and pleads, does whatever he wants. Her head feels like it's filled with water, and its heavy, so heavy, pressed up against the glass. Her body is quivering, and every thrust of his cock inside her, makes her feel like she's about to explode. An orgasm rolls over her, making her scream his name, and Merle grunts and thrusts harder. She loses all track of time, consumed by the sensation of her skin sticking to the window, and Merles fingers massaging her stomach and clit in turns.
"Say it," Merle says hoarsely, licking at the skin under her ear.
She cries out, as he lets her hands free and jerks her back for a minute to pinch her nipples. Her hands go downwards, to his hand at her pussy, and she presses it against her harder and shakes her head no.
He presses her up to the glass again, and pounds into her. She cums again, her body singing, and her toes curl as she bucks uselessly against the glass.
"Say it," she hears him say again, and again she shakes her head. She won't give him this point. Merle has the endurance of an olympic runner when it comes to holding out on an orgasm, but he has to be getting close to breaking, otherwise her wouldn't be so insistent. If she can just hold on until he cums, she'll be safe for at least an hour. It's a rule that Merle promised he wouldn't let happen, a cocky smirk on his face. There's a first for everything, she had thought. And now she's gonna prove it.
She orgasms a third time, and she registers that as a first for her, having three amazing orgasms in a row. It may never happen again. Right now she doesn't care, lost in sensation. Her body is floating, ripples of pleasure rolling up and down her spine, her muscles clenching and unclenching.
"Say it, damn it!" Merle tries again, and she doesn't even bother with a response, panting hard and letting out soft mewls of pleasure instead. Merle thrusts one last time, and presses a hand into the small of her stomach in a last attempt to get her to say the word he wants to hear, but she bites her lip. She hears him grunt her name as he cums, and he stumbles back, bringing her with him, peeling her off the window before they collapse into a sweaty pile of limbs on the floor.
"Shit woman." Merle says, and crushes his lips to hers. He runs his tongue along the roof of her mouth.
"Guess I lost that battle." he says when he breaks away for a deep breath. She smiles.
"Yup. I get an hour of freedom," she pants, and he considers her for a moment, that weird look crossing his face once more.
"Ya sure do," he says, finally slipping out of her with a wet, slick sound. She shudders, and watches him go, leaving her alone once again, on the living room floor.