Rick and Michonne had been enjoying time spent together, on what Sasha referred to as, 'unsolicited dates she did not authorize.' On this night in particular, the actress had brought the country singer to a blues bar. Rick had been struggling with some writers block, and this was her way of trying to help unwrap his creativity. She figured he'd be attracted to a good melody, in the way she was attracted to a juicy script.
Midnight Soul was a small bar with a big heart. The room illuminated a golden glow from above, with an array of chandeliers, revealing the true color of the assumed dark walls, to be a beautiful shade of forest green. The stage was elevated from the ground covered in textile of navy with silver sparkles, that created the illusion of moving feet tapping on the night's sky. Before the stage, was a space filled with people who wanted their ear closer to the music. Behind them were an assortment of tables filled with friends grouped together over drinks or couples snuggled up. The air was filled with the sounds of various voices all fighting for dominance, and the faint smell of cigar smoke. Michonne, drink in hand, stood beside a seated Rick on his bar stool, both fixated on the live band and high octave singer. They were on the sidelines of the main action, clustered together at the bar.
Michonne got dressed up for the night, in a black fitted off the shoulder top, tucked into her short wine colored aline skirt, and black thigh high boots, that showcased thighs Rick ogled the moment she finally decided to sit. His wardrobe matched his sullen mood, dark denim jeans and a black t-shirt. He sighs and lowers his head in a brief moment of inadequacy, everything in the room screamed for him to put words on paper but he couldn't. His writer's block made him feel as if he had no motivation or wasn't inspired enough. Michonne notices the doubt he has in himself, and sets her now finished drink on the bar top. She steps in front of him and gently cups his face in her hands. He perks up feeling her soft lips kiss his forehead. The blossoming of his cheeks filled the palms of her hands. He toys with the hem of her skirt, but doesn't look up. Michonne views this as him not engaging in their surroundings and speaks with a concerning tone.
"I thought this place might inspire you... we can leave if you want?"
He looks up as the touch of her hands lower to rest on his shoulders. "Inspiration will come to me. The music is good here, but all I really needed was you."
Michonne speaks lively as if he'd hit an epiphany. "That was pretty, we should write that down."
"That wasn't a song lyric, I was speaking to you from my heart."
"Is that the follow up lyric? Because that doesn't flow as well."
"Michonne, baby, I know you're trying to help but I've got a process to the way I do thangs. I swear it'll all come to me, but in the meantime I need you to stop worrying and-"
"Kiss you?"
"That would be a nice start."
Their lips clumsily met in a kiss, since she was in mid giggle and he had a joyful chuckle of his own. His hands snatched her small waist, and brought her in tight. Something he did every time there kiss grew from a few short giggly pecks, to a tongue tussling battlefield. Michonne pulls from the kiss, taking a much needed breath of air. Her mouth traveled an inch away, before he traps her top lip between his and draws her in for another small war. It was the same for the two of them, both lost in the moment, but its only Rick who finds immediate guilt in a moment where his hands reached to grope her breasts.
He felt the tense rise in her body. "I'm sorry..." he promptly stops himself and recoils his touch thinking he'd done something to offend her. "We're in public and I just-"
"We're in a dimly lit bar, I doubt anyone saw."
"There's always someone with a camera watching."
"I know but, I liked what you did. Its a far cry from the man that hardly made eye contact with me, for more than two seconds at a time."
He looks down with a smirk and a denying sway of his head, avoiding any admission to her observation.
"And you're still so shy around me." She sets her hands on her hips, shaking her head as she faked disapproval.
He looks at her. "That's not my fault you know?"
"Oh really, then whose fault is it? Tell me country boy, whose controlling your body? Cursing you with all these involuntary movements." She teased.
"Alright maybe its all on me but, you're the cause. You're one painfully sexy woman."
"Yea, if only you were on my level."
Michonne smiles as he laughs rather than questioning the state of her joke. "You've come a long way Grimes."
"I have..." he gets up and peers down into that playful shimmer in her eyes, "but you're not all the way wrong. There's not a person on this earth on your level."
She smiles and tilts her head to the side, "how are you having trouble writing love songs again?"
After a few drinks and a gracious tip to the bartender, the couple where outside, strolling the long path to their car. Their driver could be seen leaning against an automobile, cigarette wedged between two fingers, freeing smoke that blew into the night's calm air. Michonne is teetering slightly in her heels, so Rick holds her hand allowing himself to be a physical support for her. She embarrassingly laughs off her inability to walk solidly, and poses a question.
"So what's your schedule like for the rest of the week?"
"Well the song I wrote about you" he pauses chuckling at the sight of Michonne's smile widening to epic proportions "...it was supposed to be apart of my up coming album but, apparently I'm taking to long on that, so its gonna be tacked onto some movie soundtrack. I'm shooting a video for the song this week."
"A movie soundtrack? That's exciting." Michonne speaks with enthusiasm he wished he could share, but his mind is still worrying about his ability to write. She sighs and comforts him with a kiss on the cheek, and a small whisper telling him he was going to get through this.
"I'm sorry. I'm in this mood and its ruined this night you had planned."
Michonne shakes her head. "You're allowed to be in a bad mood, you're a song writer who's having trouble writing, that's nothing small, I understand the worry. "
He nods, "mind if I stay over tonight? If I'm gonna be wrapped up in this video, I want the extra time with you."
"Not at all, the imprint you left in my bed this morning misses you." She smiles.
"Its still there?" He laughs.
"Well you can remake it."
Michonne flicks on her bedroom light, her bare feet sauntering along the soft carpet. As she puts her boots in her closet, Rick sat on the edge of her bed looking down at his sock covered feet, a distant energy surrounding him. She looks towards his defeated disposition on the bed, and speaks from across the room.
"What usually inspires you to write? loss, hurt, love?"
"Guess you could say all of the above."
"What about sex?"
The way she looked at him in that moment, was like a screen cap taken straight from his fantasies. He felt himself trying to respond, having no clue if his words were coherent.
"Its ah...I ...I mean..." he struggles to string a sentence together as she's pulling at the martial of her blouse, untucking it from her skirt. He watches the fabric as its flung beside him on the bed, his eyes focused on her discarded garment feeling too timid to turn his head towards her.
"What about now?" She speaks, and her voice is smooth like silk.
His eyes streamed up her narrow toned torso before setting on her swollen beasts resting in cups of black satin. His face was a heated blush of red. She speaks again with a gentle bait. "I'm still over dressed aren't I?"
"Yes" he whispers fixated on her.
"What should I take off next?"
"Your panties." He says in bashful lust.
"I want you to do it."
He nods as she's approaching him. Her body moves like danger in human form. She stops short, wanting him to journey the rest of the way. "And I need you to take them off in a way I like." He rushes to stand hoping to deflect from the nervous eagerness he'd had while sitting.
Her eyes lower, following the unflinching gaze of his heavenly blue stare while he crouches down. She likes how he's so sexy yet timid. His caress moves up her outer thighs, his lips zigzag from knee to knee, thigh to thigh, moving higher and higher. Hands found a home under her short skirt while fingers tangle themselves in her panties, then worked the material down the lengthy stream of her legs towards her ankles. She stepped out of them and smirked watching him tossing the small fabric over his shoulder. He comes to a confident stance, his stare pierced through her, almost breaking her control of the situation.
He wanted her. He wanted her with a growing intensity he'd never felt before. He could feel the rush of blood in his veins, the slight heave of his chest, the dryness of his throat. Like a game of chess he waits for her to make the next move, or in this case the next proposal.
"Do you want me?"
"Yes."
"What are you going to do once you get me?"
"This." He gives into the urge to finally let go and kiss her. His hands grab her face, a hard press of his lips came first, second was a kiss filled with passion matching her own. Eyes closed but hands roaming each other's form are used for vision. He took faithful steps backwards until he clumsily drops on the bed. She quickly straddles him, the kiss never breaking just growing stronger. She grinds on his lap as he felt a warm rush and swelling beneath his jeans. He rotates on top of her, laying her along the soft feel of her bed covers.
He releases a short howl, toppling over her lust filled gasp, as their lips were forced to part. They waste no time stripping each other, clothing flung around the room in every direction before his head is lowering between her spread thighs. She lets out a light moan as his mouth met with the taste of her moistened slit, his tongue was like a brush that painted between her folds like a skilled artist. She reached between her thighs raking her fingers between strands of his hair, "ah yees...just like that." She moaned roughly gripping his hair causing him to groan into her increasing arousal. No melody would ever sound sweeter, than the song she sung entirely of moans. "Mmmm...I'm so close" she said through labored breaths, and toe curling pleasure. The disclosure only made him feast hunger between her thighs. She gripped the bed sheets, her back forming a small arch as she reached her climax.
He raised his head and crawled over her body, writhing beneath his. She smiles up at him before they kiss and she tastes herself on his lips. "Did you like that?" He speaks seductively against her mouth. She smirks and bites his bottom lip, whispering, "yes...I want more."
There bodies become one as he penetrates her and she feels the weight of his chest on her own. He moves back and forth inside of her, his thrusts are just as shy as he is with her in his moment. Goes deep but slow allowing her to feel every hard inch of him. He kisses her with ferocious desire, she kisses him with more aggression as if to top his primal need. Her legs wrap around his waist as she holds him closer. His deep throaty moans mixed with her rapid breaths of desire filled the room. He looked deep into her eyes, a non verbal conversation to gauge her comfort level as he moves harder against her, her eyes tell him she can't get enough.
She grabs the back of his neck, her body jerking roughly under his. Swiftly she rolls on top, adjusting her form to a straddling position. He leans up to meet her lips again and ravishingly groped her full bottom. She moves up and down on the length of his cock, bouncing wildly, the friction sparking pleasure in him that only made him more aggressive towards her. His hands press at her thighs to the point of bruising as she left rays of red strikes across the skin of his back. He hisses and rolls her onto her back, seize her wrists and pinning them against the bed, while his lips traveled to her neck sucking and pulling the sensitive flesh between his teeth. Michonne closes her eyes, her bottom lip quivering with delight.
In the morning Michonne wakes up in a blissful haze. She aches feeling sore yet satisfied as her eyes are fluttering open, struggling to get used to the burst of light from her bedroom windows. As her blurred vision becomes clear she looks over to see Rick's bed imprint and smirks. Reaching further over to a collection of sheets of paper, she sits up and looks through them. Pages of pages of songs, all written in rushed hand writing with words as beautiful as he was to her. Rick enters the room in a towel after his shower, blushing from Michonne finding his burst of inspiration.
