Dead. His father was dead and in the ground and he'd drunk about all the moonshine he could drink with Merle. He and Merle went on a bender for the weekend straight after the funeral. They hit the first bar they come to and closed it down. They did the same thing the second night and at the end of it, Merle took some redhead home to make her pussy weep as he likes to call it.

"You ain't never heard of a man crying like a pussy. That's what that really means Darylina." He'd hooted. "You lick that pussy good enough and it'll weep all over you." He licked his lips for effect and Daryl just looked away.

By the third night, Daryl'd had enough but he went with Merle anyway, just to make sure he didn't get himself in any trouble. His brother's keeper? Yeah, you bet, he thought. It's the way it had always been.

Their old man was dead and they weren't drinking on account they were sad. They were drinking because of the guilt that they were glad he was gone. He had been a mean sonofabitch, never showing his sons any love. The only thing he ever showed them was the back side of his hand, his leather belt whipped from his pants at one wrong look to strike any surface of their skin he could hit. Their father hit them with everything he could get his hands on. When he ran out of punches or when he was too piss drunk to get up, he used his words instead. Sometimes Daryl thought those might hurt the most.

He watched Merle chatting up some girl, different one from the night before and thought he was about to make his exit when his phone chimed. He glanced at the display.

Beth.

His mouth turned up at the corner. He still has her panties, laying on his nightstand beside his bed. He'd be lying if he said those panties didn't lead to some mighty impure thoughts about the pretty blonde he'd nailed in the airplane lavatory last week. Thinking about those panties led to him thinking about that pretty pussy of hers. If that later led to him turning off his light and imagining her riding his cock as he thrust into his fist, well so be it.

He slides open the message: "Whatcha up to sexy?"

He types back a quick reply. "About to head home. You? I thought you were headed back to Florida?"

"Not until Tuesday." Her response was fast and he had a sudden inexplicable need to hear her voice.

They've talked a few times since the flight. He knew she was in for spring break visiting family. She'd listened to him for an hour on the phone the night of his dad's funeral. She was surprisingly easy to talk to and at times it was hard to separate the minx he'd fucked on an airplane from the sweet sounding farm girl offering sweet assurances on the other end of the line. It was hard to believe she was the same person but every once in a while, that side of her he knew existed would come out in a low laugh. A very dirty laugh.

He said his goodbyes to Merle who barely even glanced his way before turning back to the gorgeous brunette on his lap. As soon as he was on his bike and before he started it, he dialed Beth's number.

Her voice was soft across the line and he had a sudden urge to run his fingers through her hair, lose himself inside her and forget about the past few days. "Why don't you head over here and pick me up instead of heading home?" She said, like she'd been reading his thoughts. He might be thinking that loud; he didn't know.

"Come pick you up huh? And where are we gonna head at this hour?" He had no idea what time it was. He knew it was well past 1 a.m. "And won't your daddy ask where you're goin'?"

It was a bad idea. She was a college girl; her whole life ahead of her. He'd just buried his dad a few days ago and he had no fucking clue how to do anything but casual sex.

"I figured your place and I also figured I wouldn't tell him. What my Daddy doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, I'm plenty old enough. But, you already know that Mr. Dixon." She chuckled. It was that laugh again. His cock strained against his jeans at the thought of her on the back of his bike, hanging on, pressed to his backside. Fuck. They'd be lucky to make it back to his place, he thought.

"Give me your address."

She rattled it off and added. "Stop at the end of the drive, I'll meet you by the mailbox. It's dark out here at night, don't want anyone seeing your lights."

They said their goodbyes and she sounded breathless as she hung up. He couldn't wait to see her. He didn't want to count his chickens or anything but he had a pretty good feeling his night was about to get about ten times better. On the way, he tried not to think about the last time he'd seen her and how her lips had felt on his. How good she'd felt clenched around him. How soft she'd been. How goddamn pretty she was. He wondered if he had made that part up.

Maybe anxiety was the same thing as beer goggles. He didn't think so though and besides that, there was something else that drew him to her. It was something in her smile. Her eyes held a kindness that he thought was rare in this world. Least, he didn't think he'd ever met anyone like her.

He pulled up twenty minutes later, the country gravel road spitting up rocks as he rutted across it. There she was as he rounded the curve, standing by the white mail box under a copse of trees. He pulled to a stop and put the kickstand down, climbing off of it and stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing her and pulling her into his arms as she walked over to him. She beamed at him and as she made her way over to him and he met her half way, his first thought was he didn't know they made shorts that short. She had on denim cut-offs that seemed to barely cover the tops of her thighs. Her belly button was peeking out from under her pale yellow off the shoulder crop top. Just that flat smooth expanse of alabaster skin had his mouth going dry.

He barely had time to get his hands out of his pockets before she launched herself up and into his arms. So much for keeping his hands off her he thought. He brought his hands up to her hips as she giggled up into his face. "I missed you."

"You did huh?" He didn't know what he was supposed to say to that. Had he missed her too? He really wasn't sure. Felt good being with her right now though.

"Glad you called." He said softly, bringing one hand up to cup the side of her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek as she smiled at him. Those baby blues bored into his.

"Are you gonna kiss me or what?" She said breathlessly, with a tiny smile just before pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

He groaned as he crushed his lips to hers and slipped his tongue past her lips into her mouth, tasting her like he'd found an oasis.

He may have been drinking all weekend long, but nothing had slaked his thirst. He thought he knew why now as she fit her lips to his more fully and moaned into his mouth. He thread his fingers into her hair, gripping the back of her head as her hands came up to the loops on his belt, pulling her against him, those slim thighs pressed right against his. He let one hand disentangle from her hair to grip her hip through her shorts and he felt her roll her hips instinctively into him.

He pulled away for a minute, leaning his forehead against hers. He thought she might be as out of breath has he was. "Them shorts are too short to be riding in all the way to my place. Girl, you'll lose half your hide if we wreck."

"I trust your driving, Mr. Dixon." She said saucily and God did he love how his name rolled off her tongue. He would have hated that moniker coming from anyone else but Beth Greene uttered those words and his cock was hard and ready. "Besides, change of plans, we aren't goin' that far." She said soundly.

"Where we goin' then?" He said taking her by the hand and leading them back to his bike. He climbed on first, letting her get seated behind him.

"Just up the road a ways. Little place I know." She said mysteriously with a cute little wink. He couldn't quite keep the smile from his lips as she gave him quick directions.

"You ever ridden on the back of a bike before?" He asked over his shoulder as she slipped her arms around his waist, gripping his leather vest, fingers sliding over his abdomen, the thin fabric no buffer at all from the heat in her touch. He sucked in his breath slightly, the air stuttering in his chest at the sudden contact, his mind remembering how her fingers had felt as they'd slid over his skin. His cock clearly remembered a lot more than that as it twitched inside his jeans.

He wasn't like this. He wasn't like Merle, needing to prowl to get women. But she had called him, he reminded himself. "All the time." She practically purred it in his ear and he couldn't hide the shudder he felt feeling her breath so close to his ear. She laughed at his reaction. "My brother's friend has a bike. But this is much better than riding with him." He couldn't be sure but he thought he felt her shift her hips forward as the word "riding" fell from her lips. Dirty lips, he thought wryly.

"Mmmmm." Was all he said. Because his mouth had gone dry thinking about all the ways he wanted her lips on him.

He starts the bike and they're off. Her fingers grip him tighter from time to time, but he follows where she points and in ten minutes they are pulling under a lush canopy of trees thick in the forest at the edge of a wide expanse of water. He parks the bike and for a minute, neither of them moves. He feels her shift behind him and climb off from the seat and he just watches as she comes around to face him as he's still seated on the bike. He rakes his eyes over her, taking in her drawn lids, the flush in her cheeks, her blackened pupils in the dim light of the moon; he's mesmerized as she gestures with a flick of her hand for him to scoot back on the bike and she swings her leg over straddling the bike, straddling him, and sweet Christ, looking down he can just barely make out the outline of a patch of wetness on those shorts. She's fucking soaked already.

He groans as she presses herself into him. His hands come up to cup the side of her face and it's like they've just crested the top of a hill and are coasting headlong down the slope, tongue and teeth and lips tangled together all at once in their urgency. One hand grazes down the side of her face to her throat, his thumb tracing that hollow at the base of her throat.

Her mouth opens under his and her lips part for his waiting tongue, slipping inside her warmth and they both groan as their hips grind together. His hand slips down further, tracing over one breast, and she's clearly not wearing a bra under that shirt.

"Fuck, Beth." He grunts as his hand slips under the hem of her shirt, sliding over her breast. He hears her almost hiss as his fingers make contact, then he's palming, caressing, massaging her, rolling first one nipple and then the other between his thumb and forefinger as she arches into him and her head falls back.

Then he remembers. He remembers the promise he made himself that the next time, he'd taste her. His fingers go to the waist of her shorts and for such tiny fabric, there are way too many buttons going down the front. It would be about his luck the smaller the clothing on a girl, the more they'd be locked down like Fort Knox and his hands were clumsy as he fumbled with the top button.

"If you want me naked just say so Daryl." Her voice was softer, smokier somehow. His eyes flick up from where he's concentrating on what he'd been doing to meet hers and he sees that special brand of smile she has. That Beth Greene smile; the one that hinted of sensuality and innocence all at the same time. The one that teased at the same time that it challenged him.

"I want ya naked Beth." He laughed outright at her shock at his open admission. Her mouth had widened in an 'O' and he thought how pretty her lips were like that.

Fucking hell, he was hard as a rock.

But he was determined. He had to taste her. It was like having a craving of something he'd never had before. Because really Daryl really and truly had never really gone down on a girl. He wasn't sure he could but then again, he knew he had a hell of an oral fixation so he was pretty sure he could figure it out. He was up for the challenge at least.

He looked up at her and he thought maybe she'd begun to guess his intent. Her breath stuttered above him as she stood up off the bike and he followed. He watched as she worked the buttons loose on her shorts and wiggled her hips to shimmy them off her body. No red panties this time. He smirked up at her and she giggled a little bit and something in his chest clenched as all his senses were overwhelmed at once. He thought it was the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard. She was definitely the prettiest sight he'd ever seen.

Beth Greene standing there smiling in a pair of yellow satin panties the exact shade of her shirt that was rucked up exposing one tiny breast; yes, he thought if he died tonight he'd be a happy man. He walked forward after she removed those as well, just hooked her thumbs in the tiny fabric and pushed them from her hips letting them fall on top of her shorts on the soft carpet of pine needles at their feet. His hands came up to her shirt, pulling it over her head and good God, he knew she was gorgeous before but seeing her out here, the moonlight spilled upon her body standing in front of his bike, the lake in the background.

They didn't even make porn this good. He didn't watch it but Merle did, so he was somewhat qualified to speak on the subject. But there was something about what he was doing here with Beth that seemed to transcend a drunken tryst or an airplane bathroom rendezvous. This was different. He wasn't sure just how; he only knew he liked it.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, you know that."

She blushed, her cheeks fired up, her smile a little shy, maybe desire, maybe both as he walked her backward, his fingers gripping her hips, and inviting her to sit side-stride his bike as his lips slotted over hers and he knelt before her, his denim covered knees pressing into the soft ground. He could vaguely feel the prickle of a pine needle coming through the hole in the knee where the patch had come off, but he couldn't find himself to care.

He pulled his lips from hers and looked down, gently nudging her thighs open with his fingers and as her legs fall to the side he nearly loses his breath for she's well and truly bare. That little landing strip that had been there last week was now gone and she was bare and glistening and ready. For him. He couldn't help the groan that from his lips. "Jesus Christ, girl." He brought his eyes up to hers in unabashed wonder as her fingers came up to rest in his hair, gently combing the fringe out of his eyes.

He pulled her forward slightly, her ass barely resting against the black leather seat of the bike and he thought he might come right there, all that pale soft flesh against the worn leather of the seat he rested his ass on every day.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he'd be spreading a girls legs and burying his head between her milky thighs, but it's exactly what he did. His nose coming up to the cleft of her pussy, dripping wet with want. His tongue flicked out, collecting the beads of moisture. He let it roll onto his tongue, tasting. She was musky, tangy, and salty-sweet and his cock ached to be freed from the confines of his pants to be buried in that paradise between her legs. He reached down with one hand to adjust himself and he heard her gasp above him. "Fuck." He wasn't sure if she was reacting to his tongue coming out to take a large swipe from opening to clit or to him palming himself in his jeans. He just knew hearing that expletive fall from her lips was nearly his undoing.

"Oh my god, Daryl." She breathed as she gripped his head with her fingers tangling in his hair, pushing, pulling as he dragged his tongue over her center. He figured he must be doing something right as he reached both hands up and parted her like petals on a flower, pink rosy flesh shiny with her juices. She was gasping his name at this point. Her folds were slicked with her wetness and he traced his tongue in every crevice, lapping at her a warm summer peach, ripe for the taking. His mouth explored, his fingers learned, his tongue tasted every inch of her.

His tongue circled that hardened bud at the top of her sex and as he continued, he began to notice her hips coming up off the bike, thrusting herself into his face in tandem with each lick up her center, each circle of his tongue around her clit.

"Your finger." She rasped, gripping his head and he took a moment to remove his mouth from her, giving her a brief reprieve from his ministrations. He sat back on his heels for a moment and just looked. Looked his fill at the way her hands were gripping into the black leather seat of the bike, her fingers clenching and unclenching, head thrown back, legs spread to his open gaze and God, she was fuckin' perfect.

He understood that she wanted his finger inside her and he was more than happy oblige as he spread her again with his free hand, sliding his middle digit all the way in, feeling her swollen walls as they seemed to caress his finger instead of the other way around and he could scarcely breathe as he thought of burying his cock in there.

He added another and a low keening began in the back of her throat as his tongue continued its relentless pursuit for her release. All of this was for her but he thought maybe it was for him too as he lapped at her core, licking and thrusting and continuing to circle that nub in a patterned rhythm as her legs began to quake beneath him and her walls clenched around him and without warning she exploded beneath him with an almost animal cry.

Literally, a clear rush of fluid spurt from her pussy running down the crevice of her ass to pool on the seat and he couldn't even be upset that he'd just polished the leather yesterday. Not when he was busy drinking up every deliciousness drop of sweetness she gave, licking and slurping like a dog would a bone. The only thing he was upset at right now was the fact that any of it was wasted because, God in heaven, she was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

He looked up at her and her eyes were cast down to his in surprise and her face was fired up in a furious blush. "I didn't-." She broke off and he didn't reckon he'd ever seen this girl at a loss for words but he guessed there's a first time for everything. Something in her face resonated with him. Something like shame as her eyes were welling up.

"No girl. No." He whispered, pulling her to him." "It's alright. Don't be embarrassed. 'S normal." Merle's words came rushing at him. "Make that pussy weep." He guessed he got it now for sure.

"Ohhhhh." Light flashed into her eyes then, as if a sudden dawning of what had just occurred. "I haven't ever done that before." She said, her voice a raspy whisper as she sat up and reached for him and he stood up readily as her fingers went to his belt and began working his pants from his body.

"Slow down girl." He couldn't help the chuckle low in his throat as she patiently waited for to him to toe off his boots as she helped divest him of his pants and waited somewhat impatiently as he settled on the bike.

""Can't, need you inside me." She whispered, running her hands over his abdomen, lower until she was gripping him in her hand. All he had left on was his shirt, and vest that she then pulled to her as she straddled him, her legs wrapping around his hips as she, in one fluid movement, sat down, impaling herself on his cock. He couldn't help the loud moan that erupted from low in his throat, almost a growl as she ground herself onto him and rocked into him. She set a rhythm and the angle, the friction, the slow and steady slide of his hard thick length in and out of her tight heat was making him see stars already.

He looked down at where their bodies were joined and even in the pale of the moonlight he could see where she glistened and took him in. All of him. Over and over again she rocked herself over him, finding her pleasure along with his. She wound her fingers into his hair and her breasts pressed against him and it wasn't enough. God, he didn't think it ever would be.

"One of these days we're going to have to do this in an actual bed." She said breathlessly as she continued pumping her tight little body over him.

He murmured his agreement as his hands came up to grip her hips and he knew without looking that her skin would bear tiny half crescent bruises on the morrow. She held her hands over his as if to grip him tighter. As if to anchor them together lest they fly free up into the night sky.

Her eyes held that twinkle in them. He had sort of come to think of it as his. Of course he'd never seen her set her eyes on anyone else to know the difference, but he sort of still believed it to be true all the same.

She was close again; he could tell. Her back was bowed, like she was strung tight and would unravel at any moment. He reached between them where her flesh was parted for him, where she was pressed just right all the way around him and slid his thumb over her clit, pressing in as she rocked over him.
She moaned and rolled her hips and he gripped her just a bit tighter.

"God, Beth." He gasped against her neck as he buried his nose right at the base of her throat, breathing her in, soaking in this moment because nothing could be any more perfect than Beth riding him. Her walls began to clench around him and feeling her quake in his arms as a warm rush spread beneath him and he felt his balls tighten and that lightning rocketed up his spine to settle star bright behind his eyes and he grunted out his release in her neck.

She rocked into him a few more times, her body finally coming to shudder against his. They were both out of breath and he wasn't sure which one of them started laughing first. "Oh. My. God." Beth exclaimed as she looked back at him.

He chuckled low, pulled back to look at her slightly silly dazed expression and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

She wiggled her hips and his softened length slid out between them to rest on her thigh. Both of them were spent and sweaty and sticky with the remnants of their lovemaking.

"We need to just go jump in the lake." She got up from his lap and indeed she was right. They were a fucking mess.

He laughed and shucked off his vest and shirt while she stared at him as if he'd grown horns. "Well let's go then." He said and she beamed at him. He'd never done anything like this before but like earlier, he found he liked it. There was something exhilarating being out in the middle of the woods with Beth Greene, just the two of them. Back to bare nature, like they were the only two people left on the planet.

She laughed and grabbed his hand. Together they ran and jumped into the water, the cool of it refreshing on their sex-scorched skin.

Maybe it was crazy, this thing between him and her. She was leaving in two days to go back to school and he seemed to be at a turning point in his life. But right now, jumping into these waters with Beth, he'd never felt more alive.


This was the culmination of six months of planning and backtracking and when Emergency Bethyl Smut Weekend came up, everything lined up perfectly. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I feel that female ejaculation is something that has not been explored nearly as much as it should. It's natural and nothing to be embarrassed over and yet I think there is a conception that there is. So I wanted to try to handle in a way that would do the pairing justice and not embarrassing. Hopefully I was able to deliver that in a way that was still, well, hot! Lol

Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear from you as always. Until next time, xoxoxo