"I just wanna be a woman

from this time, unchained

we're all looking at a different picture

thru this new frame of mind" Glory Box by Portishead

Okay, I needed to say this:

Don't own TWD

I wanted the girls to be friends Sex and the City-esque, so Ros is like Samantha, Tara pretty much like Miranda, Sasha is a Charlotte and Beth a lil' Carrie. Picture their personalities more or less like that. But they don't have so much money and they live together, sometimes trying to not rip their heads off.

Daryl used to be a high-rank Marine, so when he retired, he bought Dale's decadent bar with his savings. They only serve drinks like beer, tequila and whisky. Hot stuff.

I came home the following Friday night to find a glossy black box with a little card attached to it. But before I could unveil the mystery, I had a trap to avoid, sitting on the couch playing Zelda:

-Seems Bethy got a package!-Ros stated laughing- Who is it from? Your hot date?

-My sis' sent it to me. It's my bridesmaid dress.

Nobody can deny I'm a quick thinker, even Daryl say it.

-Disgusting! Get away from here! Link's gonna make it to the temple - she said, drinking wine.

I placed the box on my bed and read the card: "Choose one for tomorrow". It was feminine writing, so I assumed that he made a poor innocent girl write this. When I lift the top, heavy baby blue wrappings followed, unveiling 3 stunning lacy underwear coordinates in wine, hot pink and black. I was too eager to try them, so I took a bath (blame September hot days) and attacked the elephant in the room, choosing the black number, which made my pale skin look like alabaster. He was seriously spoiling my inner Dita von Teese.

I slept that night dreaming about masked balls and big Martini glasses.

-W're gonna go straight t'ma place when we finish- he greeted me that Saturday afternoon, glaring at me. He already was at the bar when I arrived, us being the only people there.

-Mmmmmm, okay- I mumbled- For how long?-

-'til tomorrow, 'cause ya need to be train'd. Next week, ya'll gonna be mine 'til Monday.- He turned back to go to the basement and I was there, staring stupidly at the counter.

We couldn't talk much because with college starting soon, the bar was a little bit packed than last week. I was like a robot: pour, serve, cash, on an infinite loop, until my turn was up and I could finally relax outside the place, waiting for him to come and pick me.

-Ya ready?- he asked, putting his leather jacket on.

-I was born ready- I replied with fake fluttering eyelashes.

Tonight, the trip was a little different, he was taking me to his place, something I was dying to see. How's his bedroom? His kitchen? What's the color of the walls? Entering someone's house is venture into that person's intimacy.

And I wasn't disappointed: we came across a wooden cabin on the verge of the forest, with a gravel path. He told me to hop off the bike, so he could store it into his garage annex, full of tools and a pool table.

Classic: rough men love to play pool.

Inside, everything is neat and spartan, without cluttered spaces, so unlike my dorm. He has shelves with books, movies and CDs, a TV and a Home Theater, facing his maroon leather couch, a kitchen not far from it,and, across the door, his bedroom.

-Wait for me in my room- he said, touching my elbow- Only with ya'undies and your heels on.

I entered, closed the door, and went to the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. I just needed a touch of lipstick, so I started to undress. When I came out, I decided to check my surroundings: mahogany queen-size bed with grey striped lining, an armoire, a nightstand with books and an I-pod dock and a big silver lamp.

-D'ya like it?- he asked, leaning on the doorframe.

-It's nice, very elegant- I said.

He chuckled: -Thanks. Guess I ain't an uncultured redneck 'fter all.

-No- I laughed, grabbing one of the books on his nightstand- I love this one-I said, running my fingers through the pages- 100 years of Solitude. Didn't take you for a reader.

-I am- he was walking towards me- Nothin' better t'do in da camp at nights- he eyed me warily- Y'look so hot flipping da book in yer underwear. Smart gurl.

I was blushing furiously: -What are you planning to do?

He took the book from my hands and put it back to its place: -Stand in front of my bed. Eyes closed.

I did as he said. He put his hands over my shoulders from behind and I smelled him, pine and smoke:

-Gonna put ya this- And he tied a cloth band over my eyes.

I felt him running his hands all over my arms and neck: -Relax baby and keep doin' as I say.

-Ok-I mumbled. I heard shuffling and him sitting on his bed.

This was about to start.

Want to read sweet and fun Bethyl? Try Expired Lover by BethylAddixon... It's fun and there are lots of not-so-naive Beth ;)