#a turgid day of dreaded remembrance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fikfreak · 7 years

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Rick. Fingering Michonne at the dinner table, during Thanksgiving. He was giving his Thanks ;)

Smut Fairy, is that you? Oh bless your return you naughty little minx! This is for you...

“I think with the war ending we all have a lot to givethanks for. Let us go around the table as in the days gone by, and discuss whywe are thankful. Who would like to start?”

“Oooh, me first, Father! Pick me!” Yells Judith, raising hertiny hand to get his attention from her spot perched in Carl’s lap between himand Enid.

“She’s so cute. Look at her with Carl’s hat on.” Catching myattention, my wife turns to her left, her beautiful eyes twinkling withhappiness and gratefulness as they flit between our children. Alive. Safe inthis place that we have fought for and fortified, we are gathered at thistable, to give our thanks, to each other, and to the world for blessing us withanother chance at life. At living. Swiveling her soft gaze from their glowingfaces, her warm brown eyes land on my own, setting my heart ablaze. “Maybe weshould tell everyone today?” Lowering her voice an octave, and covering herlips with her delicate fingers, she whispers in my ear, “You know, about thebaby.”

“We can. If you want. It’s definitely something to bethankful for.” Grinning at her mention of the surprise growing and flourishing inMichonne’s tummy, I ease my hand into her lap. Rubbing my hand across theimperceptible swell of her mostly flat stomach, I can feel the heat rising inmy gut at the memory of how the love of my life came to be with child. Mychild. Needing to feel more of her, getting lost in my own remembrance of themany times I have shown my thanks for this warrior, this goddess by my side, myfingers begin to pull, inch by inch, the gauzy white material of her dress intomy greedy palm.

“Rick, what are you doing? We’re supposed to be listening toeveryone giving thanks.”

“Shh. I am. And I’m giving thanks as well.” My hand finallyreaches its destination underneath the flowing material of my wife’s dress, andthe heat from the apex of her thighs is calling me to crawl further, closer toher womanhood.

“Oh!” On a breathy sigh, Michonne attempts to school herface, dropping her lids, rimmed in a dearth of long, curled lashes, to coverthe lust brimming in her eyes.

“You say something, Chonne?” Daryl asks, turning to his leftand looking over into my wife’s face for an answer.

Shaking her head, her sexy full lips pulled into her mouthto stifle her moan, Michonne attempts to answer Daryl and get him to refocushis attention away from her.

“I think she’s good, Daryl.” I answer on her behalf, shakingmy head as well, and not wanting his undue attention to cause her to keep herlegs closed, warding off my hand.

“Hm. Alright.” Daryl gruffly huffs, his eyes quickly assessingboth of our faces, searching for a hint of something amiss.

Waiting for him to turn around and away from us, I lean intoMichonne and whisper into her ear. “Open.” I command, and like the good wifeshe is, Michonne’s thick thighs eagerly part, welcoming my wandering fingerswith the naughty surprise that she is not wearing panties. “Nice.”

With that, the pads of my fingers roam over and in-between thepetals of her womanly flower, damp with the slippery feel of her leaking arousal.A moan of my own filters through my lips, as my cock swells in my jeans at the surprisingsensation of how wet and ready Michonne is for my exploration. Her clit isturgid, budding and eager for my touch as it peeks out from its hooded andsecreted position. Rubbing the soft bundle, stroking, titillating my lover, fromthe corner of my eyes I witness how Michonne is grinding against my hand,squirming, seeking. Her beautiful chocolate skin is now flushing a deep scarletunderneath the dusky plum coloring of her cheeks.

Sinking further, I push and dive deeper, two of my fingersnow lost past the knuckle, in the depths of her welcoming canal. Not wanting tocall attention to the rhythmic thrust of my fingers, and the press of my palmagainst her clit, I attempt to hide my own wanton arousal. Blinking, licking mytongue over my dry lips, my attention is nowhere near focused on the jubilantdeclarations being shared around the table. Staring straight ahead, the facesof my family and friends are there, but blurred and out of focus, as nothingmatters more in this moment than the secret touch of my wife riding my hand.

And as Daryl mumbles out something about how thankful he isthat he finally killed that son of a bitch Dwight, my own control is beginning toslip. The sensation of her in my hand, bathing it awash in her slick juices asshe’s coming undone, is threatening me in much the same way that it’s crumblingher stealth.

“Ah, mmm…” She huffs, covering a satisfied moan with a falseclearing of her throat, and lowering her head to cover her face in her palm.

“Dad, Mom, what are you guys thankful for?”

“Hm?” I ask, my eyes bucking in question, looking to Carlfor clarification on his unexpected question. “What did you say, son?”

“Daddy, why is your face red?” Judith asks, her voicetwinkling with the dulcet tones of her innocent youth. Scrutinizing my face,along with everyone else at the table, she focuses her searching brown eyes onme, then on Michonne. “You ok, Mommy?”

Hurriedly interrupting the impromptu interrogation, Daryloffers, “Don’t worry about these two. I think we all already have an idea whatthey’re thankful for.” Daryl answers on our behalf, smirking and jerking histhumb our way. “Can we just go ahead and eat already? I’m starving!”

With the attention now temporarily off of us, thanks to whatI can only assume is Daryl’s rather astute determination that Michonne and Iare otherwise occupied, I gift my wife with a flurry of quick internal flicks,hooking my fingers and pressing against the spot that will permit her to take adesperate hold of a satisfying orgasm. Head still down, her long thick dreadsare providing a curtain of protection from any prying eyes that would otherwisebear witness to the delighted slack of her aroused features.

The rush of her juices down over my fingers, and across mypalm, is keenly welcome, and sets my cock to a hardened steel that only my wifecan sate. Michonne quickly attempts to dislodge my wet fingers, tugging at mywrist, seeking some relief from the pleasure that has now soaked her thighs.Removing my hand from the cloak of her dress, I raise them to my mouth and suckaway the creamy evidence. Enjoying the tangy, sweetness that is my wife, I leanover to her and kiss her on the cheek.

“In all of the world, I’m most thankful for you.” I mutter,for her ears only.

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