Red River Blue
Chapter 9
Carol woke to the feel of Daryl rubbing his hand gently over the bare skin of her back. She grunted her displeasure at the thought of waking all the way up and snuggled back down into her pillow. The spot she was lying in felt hard underneath her body. It took her a moment to remember where she was. They were not upstairs in bed on their plush pillowtop mattress. They must have fallen asleep on the living room floor in front of the fireplace. It was too hot out for an actual fire. So they lit candles in the fireplace and cuddled in front of it, splitting a bottle of home brewed hard cider.
The kids were gone. Sam and Mika both left with Merle and River to take the outliers the kids brought in off to Hilltop. Which meant she and Daryl had the house to themselves. Rick invited them over for dinner. But Daryl was quick to decline, eager for the type of privacy that only an empty house would allow them. Carol was perfectly satisfied with the sex they had in their bedroom with the door shut. But how horned up Daryl got over doing it in other locations was a source of never ending amusement for her. She would only object to taking their relations outside. And that was only because it was inevitable that she would end up with her more delicate areas covered in bug bites. For some reason, Daryl always came out completely unscathed from these adventures. He was fond of telling her that the skeeters liked her better because she tasted so sweet.
Carol felt Daryl's hand graze across her back one more time before he trailed it down and over the curve of her hip. He gently massaged her thigh before moving back to grip a palmful of her ass. She hummed into her pillow, arching her back. She tried not to laugh when she felt Daryl grip her thigh and lift, spreading her legs roughly apart. He was always over eager to get his hard length inside her. Over the years, she expected his ardor for her would eventually diminish. Or that he would at least calm down a little. But seven years later Daryl was still behaving like a horny teenager. Carol didn't mind. It felt good to be wanted. And she loved her husband the same way as he loved her. As he was. Without trying to change him.
Daryl positioned her leg so that her knee was hooked over his legs. And she was silently grateful that her opening was still slick from the sex they had the night before. Because Daryl only rubbed the head of his dick across her slit once before he impaled her with it. She gasped, instinctively unhooking her foot and attempting to close her legs. But his hand was gripping the meat of her thigh, keeping her legs spread wide. He adjusted his body slightly, bending his leg and placing his thigh between her legs to hold them apart. She moved her hand back, gripping his forearm and digging her fingertips into his flesh. Carol cried out as he began to pummel her, ending each thrust with a hard pump that hit all the sensitive spots inside her. The hand he was using to keep her legs open stroked up her thigh. And then he began to rub his thick finger back and forth across her clit as he continued his relentless assault on her pussy.
Without warning her inner walls started convulsing. She gripped his arm and gasped for breath. Her insides were still slightly sore from their lovemaking the night before and she was coming so hard it was almost painful. Little black dots swam in front of her eyes, which she was quick to squeeze shut. Just when she thought her body was starting to wind down, he forced a second orgasm out of her. She cried out, her body arching and her insides gushing with warmth and fluid. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew that they were completely naked on the living room floor, fucking like near animals. The curtains were open. The windows were cracked. And she could hear someone tromping up the front porch steps. But Carol was too far gone into her pleasure to concern herself with such trivial details.
By the time Daryl found his release, whoever was on the porch had fortunately taken a hint and left them alone. Carol rolled, resting her head on his chest and snuggling her smaller body against his larger one as she willed her heartbeat to slow back down.
"Coffee?," Daryl asked. Carol nodded. If there was coffee to be had, she would be happy to have some. The best gardeners in the Kingdom were toying with a few different greenhouse setups, trying to create the ideal environment for growing coffee plants. But as far as Carol knew, the efforts to grow the beans had not been very fruitful. Like so many other things, coffee had become a luxury item.
Carol pulled the blanket up over her body and snuggled back down into her pillow. Daryl would make the coffee too strong. And he would overcook the eggs. But none of that reduced the bubble of happiness that always swelled inside her at the thought of having a husband sweet enough to make the effort. She was uncomfortable with the age difference between them at first. Having a younger husband made her feel insecure and for a while there was a lingering fear that Daryl would eventually leave her for someone his age. Or even someone younger. But as the trust slowly grew between them, Carol started to understand that insecurity was something that she and Daryl shared. He needed someone with the maturity to just accept him, flaws and all. Someone that was happy for his overcooked eggs because she knew what it was like to be criticized and insulted no matter how hard she tried.
When Carol could finally feel her legs again, she gathered the blanket around her naked body and shuffled into the kitchen doorway. She suppressed a giggle. Daryl was in his boxers, stirring the eggs in the pan with a cigarette hanging off his lip. Carol moved through the kitchen, snagging the smoke and taking a long drag before handing it back.
"Hey," Daryl teased, "...No smokin' in the kitchen." Carol snatched the smoke from him and sat down at the table to puff on it.
"I can't believe that no one has knocked on our door for anything," she mentioned. It was a miracle that they made it all night without someone needing something. And now it looked like they might make it through breakfast as well. It was just short of a miracle. Daryl glanced over his shoulder, smirking at her.
"What did you do?," Carol asked, shaking her head at him.
"Nothin'," he lied, this time glancing towards the front door and chuckling. Carol got up, a little stream of smoke billowing out behind her as she headed for the front door. Swinging it open, she saw there was a very sloppy note not taped but nailed to their door. She read the note, nearly dropping her blanket as the laughter bubbled out of her.
ANYONE NOCKIN
ON THIS DOOR
WILL GET THERE ASS BEAT!
Carol swung the door shut, trying to get control over her laughter before she got back into the kitchen.
"Didya take my note down?," Daryl asked. Carol shook her head. As it seemed to have proven very effective, Carol left the note up. And it could stay there all day as far as she was concerned.
"Let's leave it up," she suggested. "After breakfast, I'm going to take my coffee upstairs and drink it while I soak in the tub." Daryl perked up at the suggestion of the bathtub.
"Want company?," he asked as he scooped the eggs out onto two plates. Carol rose from her seat, tossing the last of the hand rolled cigarette butt into the sink. She wrapped her arms around Daryl, leaning into his chest. He pulled her against him, pressing a kiss into her hair. And she felt the same way she always felt. Like they could face anything as long as they were together.