14 - Wild Thoughts
"So where are you guys going tonight?"
"Out," Michonne answered her godson ambiguously, not wanting to reveal too much about her plans with Rick – primarily because they involved activities that made for unsuitable discussion for children. "We'll have phones if you need anything."
"But Jessie is gonna be right around the corner and Shane and everyone else will be right down the beach," Rick reminded him. Though he spoke to all three of their children as they sat in front of him, each of them responsible for keeping the information in mind.
"Okay, Daddy," Judith nodded, her mouth full of a bright yellow cupcake.
"And we don't know what time we'll be back," he added, "so please don't call to ask."
"I feel like if anyone should have a curfew, it should be parents," Carl smirked. "You can't just leave your kids and say, 'Oh, I dunno when we'll be back.'"
"We can and… we are," Michonne assured him with a sweet smile, crumbling a piece of his dessert into her hand to take for herself. "As far as you're concerned, you'll see us tomorrow."
Instead of hearing what she'd said, Carl watched, unamused, as his share of the delicacy was immediately cut in half. "You're really just gonna take my cupcake like that?"
"We always share," she returned, chewing at the red velvet treat. "Don't you start acting funny now."
"Fair enough," he relented, sighing; scanning the table for the various flavors they had left. Somehow, they'd ended up deciding on cupcakes for dinner, and Michonne being the overachiever that she was, supplied them with a plethora of options to choose from. "Who had the banana one?" he asked. "I wanted to try that."
Andre raised his hand, as his mouth was too full to speak. But he pushed his plate in Carl's direction, trading it for his mother's kiwi one. "Mommy, how come you guys aren't going to the beach party?" he wondered before taking another bite. He recalled her saying it was for adults and was confused as to why she would then skip it.
"Well," Michonne started, looking to Rick for an answer. But then she figured the truth was simple enough. "I just wanted to be alone with Rick," she said, cocking her head to the side as she waited for him to respond.
"Are you gonna get married?" Judith asked casually, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth.
"Maybe," Rick answered diplomatically, unsure where she would go with the conversation if he answered as affirmatively as he wanted to. "We'll have to see what happens."
"Then you'll get to lay on top of each other in the bed," she went on to explain as if they wouldn't know. "And sometimes you can do wrestling, too."
Michonne looked at Andre suspiciously, waiting for him to chime in with his own version of events, while Rick peered at Carl, wondering if, for some reason, he'd managed to corrupt his sister. None of them quite knew how to respond.
"Where did you hear about all this?" Rick questioned her. He knew she'd never caught him in the act with Lori, but she had to have come up with it somehow.
"At school," she answered, thinking that rather obvious. "Zadie told me."
Rick glanced at Michonne, the two of them sharing a smirk as he considered that she would be homeschooled once they moved to Anguilla – another check in the 'pro' column for his decision. "And why were you and Zadie talking about this?" he prodded, trying not to laugh. He could tell Michonne and Carl were, too.
"Because she saw her mommy and daddy wrestling and they told her all about it."
He nodded in response before stuffing another piece of cake into his mouth, mainly to stop himself from saying something terrible about Zadie's parents.
"Well," Michonne cut in once she could get past her utter amusement, "every marriage is different. So Zadie probably shouldn't have told you that about her parents."
"Oh," Judith replied, disappointed that she might have received bad information. "Well would we all get to live together?"
"If we decide to get married," Michonne nodded, "yes. Of course."
She smiled at that answer as she stared at the rollers in her godmother's hair; thinking about how she'd probably get to play dress-up with her someday. Michonne had already given her a manicure that morning, but she was very much looking forward to the whole thing – having a full-time mommy. If they did get married, of course.
"Will we live here?" Andre asked as he realized that his whole life was going to be rearranged yet again. As much as he wanted Judith and Rick and Carl to be around, he also didn't want to leave Anguilla. Not when he'd just gotten used to it.
"We would," Rick assured him, nodding too. "Your mom's business is here, so the three of us would move here."
"What about your business, Dad?" Carl submitted, recalling Michonne wondering the same. Which was a valid question.
"I'd probably sell my share," he revealed, feeling a bit strange – a bit wistful – as the words came out of his mouth. It would be a sacrifice, for sure, but one he considered worthwhile to be there with Michonne. "That's a discussion I have to have with Shane at some point."
"Daddy, is Carl gonna live with us, too?" Judith asked. She knew there had been a lot of discussion about him going off to college soon, wherever that was.
"It depends on what Carl wants to do," Rick answered, gazing at his unwitting son. "We can talk to your grandmother about taking you for junior and senior year."
"What about Shane and Andrea?" he suggested – he would much rather live with them than his 65-year-old grandmother. "They live way closer to my school, you know."
"They're also gonna have newborns in a couple months," Michonne reminded him. "I don't think they need an extra child to take care of."
"But I'll be driving soon. I could even help them."
"We'll see," Rick replied noncommittally. "We have a lot to work out, which is why we don't want any of you to think this is gonna happen immediately. It'll probably be next Christmas before everything is settled."
"Next Christmas?" Judith exclaimed in disbelief. If there's one thing she knew about life, it was that Christmas always took forever to come around. "Why does it have to be so far away?"
"Well, because we have a lot to work out," Michonne tried to explain it simply when she knew it wasn't simple. "You guys have a life in Atlanta, and we have a life here, and it takes time to put those together. It's like putting a huge puzzle together."
"But it's gonna happen, right?" Carl pressed. He was starting to feel unsettled by all the unknowns in their conversation. "Like even if you don't get married, you're gonna be together?"
Rick frowned at the question, but nodded as he stole some of Judith's cupcake. "That's the plan."
"We don't know what's going to happen tomorrow," Michonne added, her mouth full as she gazed at Rick. His confidence in them was almost jarring when it wasn't adorable, but she wanted to keep everyone's expectations realistic. "But that is the plan."
"Grammy says God laughs at our plans," Andre inserted, feeling like it was a good time to ask what his grandmother meant by that. "What does that mean?"
Michonne could only laugh, knowing that sounded precisely like something her mother would say. "It just means things don't always go the way you want or expect them to."
"It sounds like you're saying you might not get married…"
Rick could detect the worry in the kids' voices and their line of questioning, so he decided to take control of the situation. "Listen to me," he said firmly though his voice stayed quiet. "Michonne and I are goin' on a date tonight. It's the very first step in the whole thing," he said, looking each of them in the eye. "And you have to take the first step before you take the second one, right?"
"Right," Judith nodded knowingly, having heard that gem from her father before.
"So we're gonna do this. And after that, we'll see what happens. Okay?"
"Okay," Carl agreed for the three of them, taking a sip of his juice as he looked at Michonne and then his dad, figuring they knew what they were doing. "Cool."
And as the five of them returned to their dinner of cupcakes and conversation, Michonne couldn't help but stare at Rick, in love with, well, everything about him; but in that moment, the way he spoke to their kids. So effortlessly and honestly, serving as a reminder of what a good father he was. How she couldn't wait to start their lives together. Starting with that first and, hopefully, second step that very night. "Okay," she smirked.
Michonne took a deep breath when she heard the knock at her front door, knowing that Rick would be waiting on the other side. She'd been waiting for this moment for half her life, and now that it was here, the butterflies in her stomach were running rampant. It was an unexpected reaction, but it was also kind of nice that she could still feel nervous about someone she'd known for so long; someone she knew better than anyone. But perhaps that was why she was so nervous – this was brand new territory for them.
"I'll be right there," she called down, staring at her reflection in the closet mirror. She felt overdressed, despite being scantily clad, but for her first date with Rick, she wanted to look good. Sexy. And that she did – sporting a royal blue dress that contoured to her shape and stopped mid-thigh, just sheer enough to be titillating to her date as she was going braless, but opaque enough for public decency. Her strappy gold heels wrapped sexily around her legs and matched the highlighted angles of her face, while her lips were painted a bright fuchsia to offset the blue. She looked like a New Year's Eve party personified – fun and fancy. "Don't fuck this up," she said to herself, still swallowing down her anxiousness.
She made her way downstairs, feeling like a twenty-year-old again as she went to meet this guy she liked. She swung the door open to find her date waiting with a vibrant bouquet of flowers, in quite the typical gentlemanly gesture – and Rick was nothing if not a gentleman. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her and then smiled wide, his blue eyes twinkling in the dimness of nightfall. "Hey," he chuckled awkwardly, unsure of what to say to someone who looked like she did.
"Hi," she grinned back, appreciatively accepting the flowers. He somehow looked more perfect now than he did an hour ago, his curls perfectly coiffed, and that gorgeous gray beard accentuating his tan skin. He kept it just the right amount of casual in a black t-shirt and his favorite expensive jeans, paired with a navy sports jacket that complemented both her dress and his beautiful eyes. "You look great," she told him, trying not to stare.
"There isn't a word for how you look," he shot back, definitely, unabashedly staring. Her dress was one thing – distracting in itself – but her entire look, from her wavy locs to her red-painted toes had him nearly speechless. "I mean that as a compliment, by the way."
"No, I got that," she nodded, taking a step back to set down her gift. "You ready?"
He let out a deep exhale this time, still in a bit of disbelief that this was all actually happening. But he'd waited so long for this very moment, there was no way to pretend he was anything but ready. "I don't think I've ever been more ready for anything."
She smiled at his honesty, thinking of how he'd always been that with her. How she loved him for it. "So I don't wanna drive, because I plan to get drunk tonight," she submitted with a cheeky grin. She was already feeling pretty good, just from sheer happiness, and it felt like she was floating as the two of them headed down to the lobby. "But I'm not walking in these heels either."
"So you want me to carry you is what you're sayin'?" he laughed, though in truth, he would've been happy to do exactly that.
"We can take a cab," she said with a gleeful roll of her eyes. "I'm just letting you know the game plan."
"I appreciate that."
"And I don't want you to be... put off when we get there," she appended, sending a hesitant glance back at him. "It might not be... quite what you're expecting."
Rick laughed nervously this time, as her crypticness was bordering on alarming. "Well I wasn't really expecting anything until you said that."
"I mean, I know I already told you it's not fancy, but it's... pretty much the opposite."
"So is it like a dive bar?"
"We can call it that," she granted with a slow nod. "Sure. A Caribbean dive bar..."
"Are you tryin' to scare me?" he questioned with a chuckle, the two of them finding their way outside and toward the street. "Because it's not gonna work."
"I'm trying to prepare you," she laughed back, linking her arm with his. "I know you're used to something a little… different."
"I'm not uncomfortable around Black people, you know."
"You're not uncomfortable with me," she shot back.
"Or your family. Or Morgan and his family," he reminded her, but quickly realized he'd sound ridiculous rattling off every Black person he knew. "Please don't make me stand here and say, 'I have Black friends.'"
"Oh god, shut up," she giggled until her laughter forced her to snort. "Like I said, I just wanted to prepare you. This isn't the rich, stuffy crowd you're used to."
"I think that's the crowd you're used to, actually."
"Oh, is that right?"
"I'm not the one between us who grew up rich, so yeah."
"You're such an asshole," she grinned, shaking her head at that unsolicited bit of truth. "And my point remains. I'm the one who's bringing you here, so don't act funny."
"Fair enough," he relented, smiling almost uncontrollably as he took her hand. "I'll be good."
She smirked in response, a quirked eyebrow to match as she said, "I didn't ask you to do all that."
"You two have fun!" a familiar voice called out to them, startling them from their silly conversation.
Michonne immediately turned to the sound, finding Carol standing on her balcony just above them with a drink in her hand, obviously having started her New Year's celebration early. "You too, Carol," she grinned.
"Be safe," she added with a quick wave. "I'll be sure to leave some condoms in your room, okay!"
"Jesus," Rick chuckled, shaking his head at his friend.
"Thank you, Carol," Michonne sent back flatly, smiling at the side of Rick's face as she tried not to laugh, too. "I mean, at least we'll be ready when we get back."
"Might wanna get yourself some earplugs, too," Rick declared, turning back to her with a mischievous smile. "We're gonna be loud."
"Rick!" Michonne shrieked, albeit mostly in amusement. She offered a wave back to Carol as an apology for his brazenness, even though she probably enjoyed it, too. "I guess we'll see you tomorrow."
Carol looked on proudly, watching the two of them scurry across the street, hand-in-hand and laughing as they did. "Good for you." She said it to herself, but she meant it for both of them. They deserved this.
"So do you come here often?" Rick wondered out loud, scraping up the last bit of rice and peas from his empty plate. He laughed at himself as he recognized that sounded like a pickup line when he obviously didn't need one. "I mean is this gonna be our spot?"
"Not often," Michonne shook her head slowly, already feeling the effects of the alcohol she'd consumed. She smiled at the way Rick was so intent on clearing every morsel from his plate. "But it's one of the few places in town that isn't overrun by tourists, so…"
He nodded, seeing that as he looked around the crowded joint. Unsurprisingly, Michonne wasn't wrong about their destination being something Rick wasn't quite used to. The Pumphouse, as it was named, was a small, hole-in-the-wall kind of club. On the outside, it reminded him of the places back home that would be known for the best barbecue in town. But inside, a haze of marijuana smoke filled the hall, mixed with aroma of the most delicious foods. At the front, tables were set up, where patrons could eat said food, while a full on dance party raged in the back. Reggae music thumping throughout the place as bodies grinded and winded, all while holding onto big red Solo cups. The dress code ranged from casual to nearly naked, with many of the women in beach-like attire and little more. No, this was definitely no tourist spot.
"So that's why you didn't bring the rest of our friends," he guessed with a knowing grin.
"I wouldn't put it that way," she giggled in reply, "but… I suppose that's true."
"Then I'm glad you're trusting me with it."
"I trust you with everything," she answered genuinely, seemingly unable to stop smiling at him. "For as long as I can remember, really."
He nodded, feeling himself blushing as his eyes flitted downward, landing on Michonne's plate. "Probably not for that period of time where you stopped talking to me, though," he remarked, stealing one of the last two ribs from her plate.
Michonne narrowed her eyes at him, watching with mock disdain as he sat there and tore into the meat like it was his. "So you're just gonna take my food? Is that what we're doing now?"
"You were just letting it sit there," he defended himself, his mouth full of the tender pork. "I still left you one."
"All right," she conceded, her tone sarcastic but obviously playful as she could barely keep a straight face. "Just make sure you eat me like that when we get home."
Rick nearly choked on his food as her words hit him like a brick. But he loved the way she could catch him off guard, even all these years later. "That's if you don't kill me first," he coughed before it morphed into a laugh. "Shit."
"I'm just saying…"
"Well I haven't done… that in a while," he confessed, unable to even recall the last time in any real detail, "but I'm pretty sure I won't let you down."
"Oh, okay," she smirked, enjoying his ever-present confidence. She took a long sip from her cup of cognac, eyeing his lips as he licked them, along with his fingers. "How have you survived these last two years anyway?"
"How did I survive?" he repeated with a chuckle. "It's not like it was an apocalypse, you know. I just… didn't have sex."
"Yeah, but it couldn't have been easy."
"It wasn't easy," he granted, shrugging; his accent getting thicker as the alcohol hit him. "Went through a lot of lotion. A lotta porn."
Michonne giggled loudly, tickled by his candor. She never thought of him as particularly shy, but she always took notice when he showed himself to be quite the opposite. "So if I walk in on you watching porn, what's gonna be on your screen?" she questioned him. "And don't you dare say 'Ebony.'"
"I was thinkin' it," he admitted, letting out a hearty laugh as his face turned bright pink. "But no, that makes it sound like a fetish—"
"It can be," she agreed, thinking of all the ridiculous things white men tended to say to her when they attempted to flirt with her.
"I don't really have a preference," he decided, gazing at her pointedly. "It's just… whatever catches my eye."
Michonne could tell that she'd obviously done just that, which made her smile yet again. "I see…" It also aroused her, sitting there under his stare, and she noticed her dress tighten across her chest as her nipples went rigid. Which also caught his eye. "It's hot in here," she noted, taking another sip of her drink, which only intensified all those warm, tingly feelings.
"I think it's the alcohol, sweetheart," he teased, his voice low as his gaze consumed her.
"I think it's you," she shot back flirtatiously, finishing off the contents of her cup before setting it inside his empty one. "Maybe we should go."
"Go?" Rick frowned. They'd barely been out an hour, so he couldn't imagine she wanted to leave. But he also wasn't going to protest if she did – not when the only thing on his mind for the past hour had been pulling that dress off of her. "Are you sure?"
"I meant go dance," she chuckled, detecting his confusion as he checked his phone for the time. "If you're done, I mean. There's always a wait for a table, so..."
"Right," he grinned awkwardly, standing from his seat as well. "After you," he offered, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. Watching as she strutted past, those curves of hers on full display, making his mouth literally water.
I don't know if you could take it
Know you wanna see me naked, naked, naked
"I need one more drink before I go out there," Rick called out over the music as they reached the bar of the crowded hall. He stared at the sea of people swaying in perfect rhythm to the beats, and he was rather certain he was going to look out of place amongst them, if not utterly stupid. If he was going to do this, he needed to be drunk when he did it.
"Don't be a pussy," she teased him, though she typically hated the pejorative use of the word. But the liquor and the flirting had her feeling rather audacious. "It's just dancing," she remarked as if it were simple. And to her, it was. "If you can fuck, you can dance."
He smirked at her explicit language, finding it to be an unexpected turn-on. Not that he needed any other reasons to be attracted to her – her provocations were only making it worse. "Is that right?"
Michonne shrugged before quickly ordering a couple more Hennessy's for the two of them. "Well sex is a bit like a dance, don't you think?" She licked her lips as her drunken gaze focused on his throat, resisting every impulse she had to kiss it. "Two bodies, impossibly close, moving to their own rhythm…"
Rick let out a sharp exhale as he had to remind himself that they were in a room full of people. Because all he wanted to do was pull that dress down her perfect frame until it fell to the floor; already envisioning their naked bodies doing said dance. "Mmm," he quietly returned, barely audible over the music.
"Just work your hips, you'll be fine."
"You assume I can do that much."
"I'm hoping you can do that much, or we might have some problems later," she grinned, turning to accept their new serving of alcohol. She took a quick sip, just as the music began to change into a mashup of "Boombastic" and "Baby Boy" and she practically squealed with delight. "Hurry up and drink," she directed him.
Watching her gulp down the strong liquor, he had to wonder what the rush was as he followed her instruction. "What are we doin'?"
"This is our song, Rick!"
It took him a moment to place the actual track given the DJ's remixing, but as Beyoncé's voice permeated the room, he was instantly transported back to the 27-year-old version of himself, dancing with Michonne to this song only in his mind. He didn't even know she'd registered the moment as significant, but a smile tugged at his tingling lips as he recognized that she had. "So I guess we're dancin', huh?"
Amused that he'd given in so easily, she dropped her finished cup to the bar, Rick following suit before she took his hand into hers, leading him to a tiny, unused corner of the dance floor. She considered herself joking when she spoke on it earlier, but truthfully, most of the floor's occupants looked like they were mid-fuck. Skirts pulled above waists, crotches grinding together. It was a clothed orgy that Michonne was happy to join. Letting go of Rick's hand, she turned her back to him and began to gyrate her hips, slowly backing up until her body made contact with his. She smiled to herself as his hands immediately found her waist, their bodies' meeting feeling completely natural to her. With her ass pressed against him, she began to grind seductively to the beat – slowly, so as not to lose him, but he seemed just fine keeping up. Following her lead and her suggestion, he treated their dance like sex, rolling his hips in time with hers. And her short dress offered little cover, making it feel as though it was her naked ass rubbing against his dick, her soft flesh jiggling with the drum's beat. Once again, he was in paradise.
I wanna be your baby, baby, baby
Spinning and it's wet just like it came from Maytag
Michonne smirked happily as she felt his noticeable erection against her backside, thrust between her cheeks as they continued their slow grind. She bent over to allow him the full view of her ass at work, but only made things worse for herself as that bulge began to graze her pussy while his hands squeezed her as she worked. His fingers grazed her skin as her dress hiked itself up and she felt wet and on fire at the same time.
Standing upright again, she rested her back against his chest so that they stayed impossibly close, even as she switched up her rhythm, knowing he'd be caught off guard once she started to bounce her ass, mimicking the beat of the drums. She used the power of her hips to back him into the closest wall and allowed the alcohol and the moment to take over her body.
White girl wasted on that brown liquor
When I get like this I can't be around you
Rick felt like he was going to die with all that ass twerking on him, and nothing to do in response but stand there and take it. He was mesmerized by the fluidity of her hips, the way her backside seemed to move independent from the rest of her body, how she switched effortlessly from one move to another, then another. His hand slipped slowly down her torso until it was gripping her waist – mostly in an effort to hold on for the ride – but he was in a trance. Watching her move was a pleasure in itself, but being on the receiving end of this seductive dance was something else entirely.
Michonne had no intention of stopping either, finding herself in a zone as the song began to mix with "Murder She Wrote" and the floor became even more crowded. The room was stuffy, but in a good way – the way where it was clear that everyone in it was having fun. She could feel the sweat beginning to bead at her hairline, and another couple took position just in front of her, only making it hotter. Still, she continued to work Rick like it was her job. Hands on her knees, she popped her hips to the beat, her tits spilling from her top as she moved, all while Rick's hard cock rubbed against her. It all felt so fucking good. For the first time in a long time, every single part of her felt alive.
I'm too lit to dim down a notch
'Cause I could name some things that I'm gon' do
As her thighs began to burn from the workout, she turned to face her partner, a smirk still on her face as she took in the expression on his. He looked to be in pain and pleasure at the same time, which amused her to no end. "You havin' fun?" she shouted over the music, cupping his face.
"Maybe a little too much," he nodded, immediately noticing her exposed breast; licking his lips as he pulled her dress back into place for her. "But I also can't wait to go home."
"Just a little while longer," she grinned in agreement, locking her arm around his neck before starting to roll her hips again. He immediately responded in kind so that their bodies were pressed together and his dick was grinding against her pussy. The heat between them didn't compare to anything else in the room – twenty years of pent up sexual energy made them an inferno. Rick's hands slid down her back until he was groping her ass, squeezing at her luscious flesh until his hands were inside her panties. He wanted so desperately to take them off and just fuck right there. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure what they were doing didn't qualify as sex.
Wild, wild, wild
Wild, wild, wild thoughts
As Michonne continued to let her inhibitions take control, she found herself locking her leg around Rick's waist, not breaking the stride of their dance. The other leg instinctively followed so that she was wrapped around him, riding him like a pony. She could feel his lips on her skin, pressed against her collarbone as their bodies thrusted together. His touch had her so wet she could feel it on her panties. She wasn't sure she could make it home before giving him a try. And by the feel of things, he wouldn't either. "Rick," she whispered, squeezing his dampened curls in her hand.
He pulled back to look at her, his eyes drawn to her beautifully plump lips as he felt her slide from his body. "You ready to go?" he guessed.
"To the bathroom," she nodded, closing her eyes. It was so hot she could barely stand, but she welcomed the feeling of his warm breath on her face.
He wasn't entirely sure, but he was guessing that she wanted him to come with her. And he happily took her hand, the two of them maneuvering through the swaying crowd until they reached the small, unisex restroom located at the very back of the hall.
Wild, wild, wild
When I'm with you all I get it wild thoughts
The two of them rushed into an empty stall, Rick pinning Michonne against the rattling door just as his tongue pushed into her mouth. Her deliciously hot mouth with lips that felt like tiny pillows, their drunken kiss more potent than all the alcohol in the place combined. The thump of the music managed to drown out the sound of their tongues smacking and the heavy breaths that accompanied it, but they didn't care to keep any of this a secret.
And Michonne didn't care to waste any time, her fingers frantically and blindly fumbling to find Rick's pants. She smiled through their kiss as she palmed his dick, the size of the rock hard bulge taking her by surprise. It was ample enough on the dance floor, but it'd grown exponentially in just minutes. And she rubbed at it still, over his jeans, as she wrestled with his belt. "Can I?" she pulled away to ask, though she had a pretty good idea of what his answer would be.
Rick pressed his forehead against hers, nodding because his throbbing erection wouldn't allow him to speak. He didn't even know what she was about to do, but he was open to anything. Everything, if she wanted it. His breathing hitched when he felt his pants loosen and her warm fingers slipped into his boxers, pulling his rigid cock from the fabric. He closed his eyes at the simple act – he hadn't been touched like this in actual years. He was scared he was going to explode before she could even get started. "Michonne," he whispered shakily.
"You okay?" she asked. She hoped. She was so close, she hated to stop now.
He answered with another kiss, needing the distraction of her lips to keep him from bursting at the seams. He ravished her mouth with his tongue while her hand gently massaged his dick between them. Slowly but deftly, as he quietly moaned into her mouth, she worked him to a full erection. His hands instinctively pulled her hips closer, then found their way to her ass, feeling both flesh and fabric as he squeezed her supple cheeks, pressing himself against her. He wasn't sure what was happening – even in his inebriated state, he was fairly certain neither one of them wanted their first time to be in the dingy bathroom of some club – but she was so fucking sexy, he didn't want to stop. And neither did she, it seemed, as she continued to stroke him and his swollen balls. As his fingers slipped further between her thighs and felt her moistened panties, he hesitantly pulled back, giving her full lips a good sucking before letting go. His breaths were as heavy as his heartbeat. "We're doin' this?" he whispered.
I hope you know I'm for the taking
You know this cookie's for the baking
Michonne nodded briefly as she tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving against his. Her nipples were so tight, they felt like they were going to tear through her dress; and her pussy was pulsing and wet – she was certain she would feel it dripping down her thighs soon. "I'm doing this," she said, licking her lips, pushing his pants down until they fell.
She kept her eyes on his, both of their gazes swimming with excitement and intoxication as Michonne dropped to her knees. As she pulled his boxers to the floor with her, she took in the sight of him for the first time. Long, thick, and pink, protruding from his hips like it was just waiting to be sucked. The head was glistening in the faint light with pre-cum, and she wasted no time licking it up. She'd been desperate to taste him for years, and now, here she was. He was surprisingly sweet, she noted, and his slightly salty skin made for a delicious contrast. She smiled as he stumbled at her tongue's touch, knowing she was about to drive him crazy.
With Rick watching her every move, his mouth hanging open, Michonne took his full length into her hand and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, sucking at it him a giant straw. Both of them moaned in response as she rolled her tongue around him, then began to swallow him down. "Michonne," he whispered, barely able to remain upright as the sensation of her hot tongue sent him into a haze. Her saliva coating his dick as she inhaled him like a goddamn vacuum. "Fuck," he groaned. He felt one of her hands on his balls, her fingers gently massaging the tight sac as she sucked and he felt like they were going to explode in her hands. It'd been so long, and even before his wife died, the closest they got to public sex acts was in their car after parking in the garage. One date into their relationship and Michonne was taking him places he'd never been before. He felt high as he listened to her mercilessly suck and slurp on his dick, her head bobbing frantically as her mouth covered every inch of him.
Kitty kitty, baby give that thing some rest
'Cause you done beat it like the '68 Jets
Michonne felt similarly inebriated as she sucked him from tip to balls, her pussy doing backflips as her tongue rolled over every vein of his cock, leaving traces of bright pink lipstick everywhere, marking her man. As she imagined his thick girth inside of her, rubbing against her clit every time he pushed into her, she could feel herself creaming; could smell her own arousal as she satisfied his. Her hands continued to stroke his long shaft while she licked at his scrotum, sucking on his balls like candy while his cum dribbled from the tip. She felt it land on her tits, but it didn't break her stride – in fact it only turned her on more, her nipples growing tight again as she thought about him licking it off of her. Her long fingers briefly rested on his wildly contracting stomach, then trailed down to his pubic hair as her lips returned their attention to his cock.
Rick was uselessly gripping at the stall walls as she nearly swallowed him whole, the tip of his dick reaching the back of her throat. Her mouth was magic, rotating in ways that shouldn't have been possible. "'Chonne," he grunted, just barely getting out a syllable as his eyes closed and he allowed himself to release. "Shit."
Michonne was surprised by the sudden sensation of his full cum on her tongue, but she welcomed it as it filled her mouth, still sweet to the taste but thicker, more potent. She wiped the remnants from her mouth and then licked it from her hand before continuing to suck his cock. She wanted to milk every drop she could, knowing it'd been a while for him. Knowing there would be more where that came from once they got back home. She tugged at her nipple as she finished him off, and she realized her own panties were soaked all the way through – she'd enjoyed this as much as he had. She looked up at him, her big brown eyes swallowing him as she smiled in satisfaction. Because this was just the beginning.
I know I get wild, wild, wild
Wild, wild, wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
When I'm with you all I get it wild thoughts
The short cab ride home felt endless for Rick and Michonne as they did everything in their power not to have sex right there in the back of some strange car. Of course that didn't stop them from getting a taste of one another. While everyone else was getting ready to ring in the new year, the two of them were only concerned with one another. With Michonne's legs splayed across Rick's lap, the two of them made out like teenagers; his hand slipping into her panties, fingering her wet folds while she sucked at his lips. She tried to keep her moans to a minimum, but he was going to town on her clit, massaging her engorged bud like a pro, and she was powerless to keep her voice down, thereby giving them away.
"You can't do that in here," the cab driver called back to them, his English accent making him sound all the more serious. "You'll need to pay to have my seats cleaned."
"Sorry," Michonne giggled, pulling from their kiss in an attempt to be good. But she could see in Rick's eyes that he had no intention of stopping just because the driver told him to.
"We'll pay whatever you want," he promised, licking his lips as he went for her mouth once more. Her tongue tasted of him and Hennessy – a strange and intoxicating combination that made him want to taste more of her. All of her. And his fingers said as much as they pushed into her warm, wet pussy, dripping like a drink itself. "Are we goin' to my place or yours?" he questioned, his kisses moving down her neck, sucking at her skin as he waited for her reply.
"I don't care," she managed to breathe, her short nails digging into his thigh as he mercilessly finger-fucked her. "We sh…" Her mouth hung open as her orgasm loomed, all while she tried to finish her sentence. "We should find—fuck," she mewled, reaching out for the headrest in front of her as a brief climax rippled through her, making her tremble against him.
"We really might have to get these seats cleaned," Rick grinned, feeling her cum coat his fingers; the sweet smell permeating the back of the car. "You okay?"
Michonne started to nod, trying not to laugh at their shamelessness as she waited for her heart to resume its normal beat. "Barely," she admitted, shaking her head as her inebriated gaze surveyed the familiar streets, realizing they were pulling up to her compound. And she wanted to believe that it was some drunken haze that had her seeing red blinking lights as they approached; maybe some part of the New Year's festivities that she wasn't aware of. But her heart began to race once more as it became clear that she was actually seeing ambulance lights. "Rick," she spoke abruptly, the panic already evident in her voice.
He'd noticed the emergency vehicles too, already sitting up straight for a better view as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. They both took note of the three missed calls between Carl and Carol. His hands were shaking as he tried to unlock his phone, just hoping he'd still be able to get in touch with his son. "If it were one of the kids, they would've called more than that," he tried to rationalize for her and himself.
Michonne knew that made sense, but it didn't help her nerves much. Nothing would help until she knew they were all alright. "You can let us out right here," she announced, seeing the ambulance wasn't going to allow them much farther. She couldn't and didn't wait for Rick to pay, rushing out of the cab before it even came to a full stop. Because playtime was over, and she was already thinking about how she would never forgive herself if something happened to Andre while she was off pretending she didn't have a care in the world. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she mumbled, sprinting up the sidewalk despite her heels.
As she made it to the front of the B&B, she could see the commotion inside – paramedics strapping someone to a gurney while Shane and Mike helped, and her heart dropped to her feet because she couldn't see the kids anywhere. "Rick, hurry up," she screamed, not wanting to go inside without him. But he seemed to be taking his sweet time, and she wasn't sure why he wasn't more concerned.
"It's Andrea," he called back to her, ending his phone call with Carl as he approached. "Apparently she passed out about a half hour ago."
"Shit," she whispered, her shoulders dropping in relief and immediately feeling terrible for it. "I thought it was the kids."
"I know," he nodded, calm as ever as he walked up the steps to join her. He gently rubbed at her back, feeling the tension in it slowly dissipate along with her nerves. "Come on," he urged her.
With a quiet sigh, she led him inside, smiling sadly to herself as she felt him drape his jacket over her shoulders. She immediately noticed that the circle of people didn't seem to be moving as if there were an emergency, and again, she couldn't figure out why. "What's going on?" she questioned, taking the spot beside Morgan – finally getting a glimpse of an unconscious Andrea, laid out on the stretcher, looking rather pale for someone who'd just spent two weeks on an island. "Shit," she said again, running a tired hand over her face. She was still too drunk to properly process any of this.
"Michonne, thank god," Carol turned to her voice with an exhale of relief. "I don't know what to do," she shook her head, trying and failing to stay calm, which was generally unlike Carol. "They're saying Princess Alexandra is backed up because of the storm," she explained, referring to the island's main hospital, "and there's no other place that can handle this."
"They're sayin' she needs to get to Puerto Rico or… fuckin' Miami," Shane added from his wife's side. His voice was low, but trembling as he frustratedly rubbed at his forehead. "But nobody seems to know how the fuck to do that."
"And she needs to go now," Mike submitted from the other side of the patient. He'd been observing Andrea's vitals since she went down, and her blood pressure was alarmingly high. "I'm not an obstetrician, but my best guess is this is preeclampsia."
Michonne swallowed visibly, taking in all of the information as best she could while trying to work through her options. Getting Andrea airlifted from the small island at nearly midnight on New Year's Eve wasn't going to be easy, but it only took her about three seconds to decide that she would find a way to get it done. "Get her in the ambulance," she instructed anyone who would listen. "I don't care if they're backed up. Tell them we're coming and we're getting her on a plane." She let out a shaky exhale as the small group dispersed, and then turned to find Rick, both sad and sorry for the very sudden turn of events. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she promised, taking his hand. She knew the mood was long gone for them, but she still didn't want this to be the end of their night. Or their vacation, for that matter.
He nodded back – disheartened, but he understood. As much as he wanted to beg her to stay, he knew he couldn't ask her not to go. "I'll be here," he tried to smile. "Go save our friend."
She gazed at him for as long as she could, studying his chagrined expression, his disappointment palpable – as was hers – and she wondered if she could stay. If she should, somehow. But she quickly shook away the thought, knowing Andrea needed her. She squeezed his hand instead, swallowing back her sadness and the tears that wanted to come with it, then leaned in to give him a quick kiss, figuring anything longer would've been inappropriate. "Okay," she whispered.
He nodded again, looking to the floor so that he wouldn't have to watch her walk away. As if he could pretend she was still there if he didn't see her leave. But alas... "Okay."