When you're laying so close to me
There's no place I'd rather you be than with me, uh
Ahaaw, I love to love you, baby
Do it to me again and again
You put me in such an awful spin, in a spin, in

Lay your head down real close to me
Soothe my mind and set me free, set me free, uh

The champagne had brought her over the line from a little drunk to altogether hammered. She was giggling as she watched Rick's ass move out of the car. He turned and reached a hand in to help her.

"What?" he asked.

"Just thinking what a great ass my husband has," she said, giggling again.

He pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear, "Wait until you see it naked."

My Lord! I can't wait to see more than your ass, she thought. "We need a room."

"Got one," he said with a smile and led her through the lobby to an elevator. He was hoping for a car all to themselves, but an older couple got on just behind them, grinning at their disheveled wedding attire.

"Congratulations," the woman said.

"Thanks," Michonne said. She looked at Rick, and they both just grinned.

"Variety," the old man said.

"What?" Michonne asked at the same time that his wife slapped his arm and said, "Hershel!"

The old man shook his head at his wife, "Variety's the secret son. Keep the sex spiced up and you'll keep your wife happy. If you do the same old thing every time, she'll find somebody else."

Rick and Michonne both laughed and Hershel's wife slapped his arm again. "Don't mind him. It's our thirtieth wedding anniversary so he thinks he knows it all," she told them. "The sex has been good, but communication and honesty are the keys. You could marry a complete stranger, but if you can talk to them and always tell them the truth, you can get through anything."

The elevator stopped, and they stepped off, waving back at the old couple. "I like Hershel's advice," Rick said with a shit-eating grin.

"I like Mrs. Hershel's better," Michonne slapped his arm as he put the keycard in a door.

They stepped into a room and before she could look around, he had her in his arms. His mouth was on her neck, licking and nipping at her pulse as they were pulling at each other's buttons and zippers. She got his shirt open enough to put her hands on his pecs and moved her mouth to one of his nipples. She licked gently and then bit down as he pushed her dress to the floor.

He growled and pulled the sides of her thong until it gave way and was tossed aside. He couldn't resist and cupped her center to run a finger through her folds. She moved to pay attention to his other nipple and felt her knees wobble as he touched her and drew his finger through her wet arousal.

"You're so wet, so perfect," he sighed.

She was trying to work his zipper as he walked her back to the bed. He pushed her back on the mattress and fit himself between her legs, rubbing her moisture around her clit and fixing his mouth on her nipple. She got her hands in his hair and arched against him as he worked two fingers into her. He brought his lips back to hers, swallowing her cries and thrusting his tongue and fingers at the same pace. She got her hands inside the back of his pants.

Oh my, he's not wearing underwear.

She pushed his pants down to sink her fingers onto his ass when her body began to clench around his fingers.

He kissed her gently while she caught her breath, fighting his own need to plunge his cock into her. When she was able to think again, she reached down to stroke his erection that was nudging her hip. It nearly killed him, but he pulled away to stand and get his pants off.

He turned to throw them on a chair and she laughed as she scooted up on the bed, "You're right. Your ass is even better naked."

He put one knee up to climb on the bed, and his smile went from playful to predatory. She was lying on the bed with her knees up; moisture glistening on the dark hair between her legs. He closed his eyes briefly, thinking about how it was going to feel to be buried inside of her, and he stretched out; moving his hands to her hips, kissing her inner thigh.

He inhaled, and she heard him mutter, "Fuck me," just before his mouth moved to her center. He ran his tongue along the length of her, savoring her sweet taste and sucking her swollen clit. He rasped it lightly with his teeth and drove his fingers into her. She bucked against him, crying out. He curled his fingers with each stroke, driving her towards release. When she moved her hands flat on the bed for leverage, he growled and trailed his tongue up her body. He ran his thumb along her lower lip, and she captured it with her teeth, drawing it into her mouth to suck on it and run her tongue up its length. He jerked at the feel of her hot mouth, rubbing himself against her saturated entrance.

She felt his broad tip slowly pushing into her, and gave a little moan. He wanted to impale her, to bury himself to the hilt and hear her scream. Her moan brought his eyes back to her face; he held his control and pushed into her slowly. He watched the joining of their bodies, listened to her gasp as he filled her until he was fully sheathed inside her; Her back bowed, she moved, gently rubbing her breasts against his chest and making circles with her hips.

He rocked against her, her body snug around his cock. He worked himself in and out of her in controlled ecstasy. But when she licked his pulse and bit his neck, "Michonne!" he growled, and his control snapped. He pulled back and pounded into her again and again; her cries fueling him.

"Rick!" She drove her heels into the bed, meeting each thrust, chanting his name and scratching his back. She came around him, pulsing and hot; he bit her lip and drew her eyes back to his as his balls tightened and he tensed. He made one final lunge, burying himself and grinding himself against her. She could feel his release jetting into her as she cried out again; her muscles clenching around him, drawing him further inside of her if that were possible.

They lay together, a mess of tangled limbs, their breathing slowing. He was rubbing her back softly when he realized that it was his wife that he was holding. She felt his chest move with a silent laugh and raised her head slightly. His eyes glittered mischievously and he said, "Married sex is so hot."

She laughed with him and sat up to straddle his waist. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and spied a bottle of champagne cooling in an ice bucket next to the bed. She leaned forward to reach for it, eliciting a curse from him and the stirrings of another erection as she slid along his skin. He watched her open the bottle like a pro as he kneaded her full breasts and toyed with her nipples. She took a long swig of the bubbly and laughed at the look on his face when she poured some in his belly button to start round two.

They explored each other over and over until they collapsed into a sweaty, sticky, sated mess. Her limbs were heavy, but she reached to put her hand on his heart and grinned at the sparkle of her ring. She laid her head on his chest with a sigh and slept like the dead.

Sipping her coffee, she turned to smile at him, as she remembered their marathon lovemaking. He stood and enveloped her in his arms and knew they would be okay when she returned his hug.

She looked around the room, again taking in its opulence. Pushing back on his chest she smiled shyly, "Don't take this the wrong way, but can we afford all of this?"

He barked a laugh and reached for the cowboy hat on the table, "Michonne, I told you I ran the family ranch. What I didn't tell you is that it's one of the largest cattle operations in Texas." He gave her a big old Texas grin and plopped the hat on her head, "We can afford anything you want, darling."