Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4288242.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Daryl_Dixon/Beth_Greene
  Character:
      Daryl_Dixon, Beth_Greene, Merle_Dixon
  Additional Tags:
      Awkwardness, Masks, Heavy_Angst, Outdoor_Sex, non_zombie_AU, Alternate
      Universe_-_Non-Magical, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Prostitution
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-07 Words: 6764
****** The Girlfriend Experience ******
by clicktrack_heart
Summary
     Basically Daryl catches Beth staring at him at a masquerade party.
Notes
     I take a long time to write anything it seems. I have so much envy
     for the awesome writers on here who can do Daryl and Beth's voices so
     easily! Anyway, glad to finally be posting something and hope it is
     enjoyed.
See the end of the work for more notes
Daryl pulled a long drag from his cigarette, staring at the party goers that
surrounded him in the small, confined fraternity house in the middle of goddamn
nowhere.
OK, it wasn’t like he minded being in the middle of goddamn nowhere. That
wasn’t really the problem. It was this place, these people. They were
irritating, busy and as brain dead as mosquitos. They were children playing
pretend, wearing strange masks straight out of a trippy Rob Zombie movie; some
with long, obscene noses or others more feminine, covered in glitter and
feathers. There was too much skin, lingering eyes, people kept brushing up
against him, making him hot and clammy at the same time. The giggles and laughs
were overwhelming.
He had to get the fuck out of here. And soon. And where the fuck was Merle
anyway?
Dixons didn’t belong at college kids’ masquerades. He sure as hell wasn’t
wearing a mask but his brother insisted they didn’t need to, that the rich
college kids slumming it in the rural edges of Atlanta wouldn’t care what a
drug dealer was wearing at their little party as long as he brought his wares.
And they had brought ‘em. Merle had come fully stocked and loaded.
For five minutes, Daryl had stood in the crowded foyer, waiting. He watched
kids coming in and out. He kept his stubborn post, hanging back awkwardly in
the shadows. When he was bored of that, he stood outside for another five
minutes to clear his head, ignoring the people in masks casting openly curious
sideway glances in his direction.
He stubbed his cigarette out on the porch and waited. He was getting pissed
now, wondering what was so good about this dumb party that his brother was
making him wait so long. Daryl should have told him to go fuck himself when he
asked for back up. But no, for some reason he said yes. He really needed to
stop doing that.
The late October air penetrated the leather of his coat, even the vest
underneath it. He suppressed a shudder.
Fuck it.
He turned around and nearly knocked over a woman that was almost his height.
Reflexively, he extended an arm to help steady her but was quickly shot down by
her hand.
“Watch it,” the brunette barked as she slapped at him, and completely missed.
Daryl couldn’t see her face underneath the green lace of her mask. He opened
his mouth to tell the bitch to watch where she on reflex, not desire, but was
cut off quickly by her companion, an Asian guy in a black and white checkered
mask who grabbed him by the shoulder.
Daryl whirled on him defensively, ready to fight.
“Hey man, sorry about that!” the man said to Daryl in a pacifying whisper that
the woman wouldn’t hear. Daryl allowed a few centimeters of tension to leave
his arms. “She had a little too much tequila,” he added, wincing.
Knowing himself what a terrible bender was like, he shrugged it off. The Asian
guy looked familiar to him for some reason and he didn’t want to argue with him
about the drunk woman either. “It’s OK,” he mumbled. “No harm done.”
The other man heaved a sigh. His relief was evident even through his mask. He
mock bowed to Daryl. “You’re a saint,” he said seriously before turning away to
find his date.
The woman in the green lace mask had already forgotten about Daryl anyway, she
was dancing and waving a finger to entice her date to dance with her. Daryl
backed away quickly, eager to avoid anymore unexpected contact with them.
Where the fuck was Merle? Fucking bastard. Last time I...
Then it happened. Blue eyes caught him.
At the end of the porch, a blonde woman in a shimmery mask lined with neat rows
of pearls was watching him intently. She wore a white sleeveless dress and
Daryl’s gaze traveled down and down. Her long legs made it impossible to tell
if her outfit was just really that short or if her legs were just that long.
Her hair was half pulled up, half falling in loose waves down past her
shoulders. A small smile curled her lips as she regarded him.
Was she really smiling at him? The idea was stupid, made him feel like an idiot
it seemed so unlikely. But Daryl was a lot of things and blind wasn’t it. Maybe
it was a joke but her smile wasn’t mean or looking down at him all. She was
curious, but not like the other party goers who stared at him had been earlier,
all prying. Her glance was somehow respectful and inquisitive at the same time.
And Daryl couldn’t look away.
The mask she wore obscured features that he could only guess were as dainty as
the rest of her. He could tell that she was beautiful. Every inch of skin her
dress revealed was hued the familiar and sweet sunny pink of Georgia peaches.
It seemed the only thing her costume was missing was angel wings.
He could give her his.
The image of this blonde in his clothing was so vivid and so unlike any
thoughts he normally had. He wasn’t the one to gawk at women. He also never
really noticed the women that noticed him, until Merle got him liquored up
enough for whoever he decided was easy enough.
This woman’s eyes sparkled on his, a pure, beckoning ocean wave. He knew, even
without his brother’s help, even with his awkward sobriety and his lack of
experience, somehow, she was inviting him to come to her.
His heart thudded. He could actually feel it in his chest.
Then the woman lowered her eyes demurely to the red solo cup she held, taking a
small sip. Daryl noticed her wrist was tiny and covered in a jumble of cheap
plastic bracelets that looked out of place.
It reminded him that he was the one out of place here. He shook his head in
disbelief as he tore his gaze away. Must’ve been his imagination. No way she
had been staring at him. His back turning, he moved towards the house again,
eager to find his brother. Get back to the city and to the rough bars they
liked. No masks. No kids playing games.
Ten more minutes of shoving through masked clusters of kids and after climbing
one set of stairs, he found him.
High as a fucking kite.
Merle was in one of the upstairs bathrooms, kneeling on the cheap blue rug
around the toilet as the contents of his stomach were upheaved. A woman with
huge, fake tits was hanging over him, cooing sympathetically. Daryl couldn’t
help but compare her to the angel in the mask outside.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Daryl muttered with an eye roll, moving towards his brother.
“Now wait a second!” Merle yelled belligerently. “Traci and I were...” he
heaved over the toilet and wiped his mouth hastily. “Gettin’ acquainted.”
Traci nodded as if she actually had concern, patting Merle’s sweaty wife-beater
clad back comfortingly.
Daryl’s lip curled and he wanted to gag himself.
“Traci wants more of your stash,” he said finally, “And I’m goin’ home so I
guess you’re stayin’ here.”
Merle stared uncomprehendingly at him with dim and glassy eyes.
“Bro, I got me a good thing right now. You don’t know what you’re missing, do
ya?” Merle slurred with a laugh. “I got you a lil’ somethin’ to get ya through
the night though. All ya have to do is go outside like I know ya want to.”
Something seemed to occur to his brother, taking him slightly out of his
drunken fog. “Here take this,” he said, fishing into this pocket and hurling
something at Daryl.
It wasn’t a challenge for him to catch it but he wished he hadn’t when he
realized Merle had thrown a Trojan condom at him.
“You’re gonna need that,” Merle guffawed. “Don’t make a mess!”
Knowing better than to let his brother’s words bother him, Daryl shrugged. He
didn’t throw the condom back either. Merle would probably appreciate him
holding it on him for a future escapade. Neither of them, thankfully, wanted
any little Merles running around.
“Go on,” Merle slurred, waving his hand around in the air. “Don’t be such a
Darylina, Darylina.”
Traci giggled but leaned forward, showing large breasts that were practically
popping out of her tank top. Or maybe her back simply couldn’t support the
weight. Daryl honestly didn’t know or care.
“Fuck it, I’m leaving,” he said, flicking his brother off at the same time he
pocketed the “gift” condom. “Don’t call me if you get arrested. I ain’t
answering for that bullshit.”
He left as silently as he entered, the bathroom shutting quietly behind him. He
could hear Traci and Merle laughing behind his back.
“Shit’s not funny,” he muttered, wandering down the down the stairs again.
Loud music was booming. Some shit he didn’t like, not enough guitar or
screaming.
He needed to clear his head again. He needed fresh air but he didn’t want to
just take off. Not yet.
Yes, he had a faint clue why he lingered but allowing himself to realize it, to
put a name to those blue eyes and long legs, it was too close to admitting
something he wasn’t ready for. Looking was harmless after all, if he happened
to see her again.
So Daryl sat on the lowest step of the back porch of the house, staring at the
night sky. Maybe he would end up taking Merle home after all. That would just
be the fucking way it would be.
And Merle would laugh and laugh about it too.
What an asshole his brother was. Throwing condoms and women at him like it was
his fucking job.
“Gorgeous out, huh.”
Daryl looked over his shoulder, slightly stunned. Blue eyes, long legs. Here
with him again. She was smiling at him, rocking from one foot to the other.
That curiously sweet yet nervous expression, the simple curve of her mouth was
for him this time and he knew it. He just didn’t know what to do about it.
She was still wearing her white mask, the moonlight made the decorative pearls
shimmer. She was only a few feet away now and still holding her solo cup.
When he didn’t respond to her chitchat about the weather, she wrapped her arms
around herself, still smiling absentmindedly.
“Cold?” he muttered.
He felt nervous. He patted his pocket, looking for his half-gone pack of
cigarettes.
“Nah, I’m OK,” she said smiling brightly, but a little shiver danced down her
body. He stared at her out of the corner of his eye.
On closer inspection he realized she was skinny, not like a junky but probably
a health nut or something. Probably wouldn’t touch thick Irish beer or salty
potato chips, his dinner for the night. Daryl wondered if he lit up one of his
cigs, if she would cough and wander back to the noise of the party inside just
to get away from him. Better if she did.
But the young woman in the spotless white dress didn’t seem concerned when
Daryl drew a long drag from his quickly lit cigarette. Her smile didn’t waver
or twitch. And he couldn’t bring himself to blow his smoke anywhere near her
direction anyway.
“OK, fine,” she said with a small, nervous giggle and she took a few steps
closer to him.
“I am cold,” she continued. “What gave me away?”
Daryl shrugged, taking another long pull and then exhaling. He knew she was
just talking to break their awkward silence but he couldn’t figure out why she
bothered to at all. It was... disconcerting.
“Ya just look it,” he mumbled. “Cold.”
“Hmm,” she said. She plopped down next to him without further comment. Daryl
couldn’t help but notice her bare knee, inches from his. “So you know a lot
about body language or something?”
“Nah,” he said. “I just watch people a lot.”
Her eyebrows quirked. “Oh yeah, what for?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, he paused to puff on his cigarette again. “You
always ask strange men so many questions?”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said, her big blue eyes going doll wide from behind her
mask. The effect made her look extremely young, even with the beer clutched in
her hand. “I swear I don’t normally talk this much. Just been a long night.”
“Just not used to it,” he admitted. He looked at the glowing end of his
cigarette. “The questions.”
They were both silent for a minute. The night air was getting cooler and he
wondered what she would say if he gave her his jacket. The idea nearly made him
snort. This wasn’t a damn romance novel and his greasy jacket would only make
her dress dirty.
Both sat quietly, neither speaking. He kept himself busy, drawing one drag of
nicotine after another.
He tried not to study her but something about her small body, the way she
almost hunched in on herself more and more every second couldn’t be ignored.
The sweetly curious expression that had made him so nervous earlier had faded.
The small, distracted smile on her lips now didn’t fit, there was something
awkward and... unhappy about it. Her posture gave her away.
Daryl knew thinly disguised misery when he saw it. Just like he knew the look
of belt scars, spoiled milk and the quakes and shakes of drunks and druggies
looking for a fix. These were just the fixtures, the commonplace things, that
he associated with his life.
But misery didn’t seem like a fixture to this blue-eyed woman next to him.
“It has been a long night,” she said aimlessly into the darkness around them.
She spoke in a such an unassuming way, like she had given up on a response from
him.
He should leave he knew, just turn around and walk away. But he found that he
didn’t want to be the one to do it. For whatever reason she had come outside to
sit next to him and he was curious, worried, and interested all at once.
As pretty as she was, there was also something wild about her. Marked and
claimed his attention effortlessly. Maybe it was the musical way her idle
fingers drummed against her solo cup. Or maybe it was the tendrils of wild,
untamable blonde hair stubbornly escaping from her hairdo as she sat there next
to him, looking so lost.
Something had to be messed up with this chick to want to talk to him. He just
knew it, somewhere in the back of his brain.
“It’s been a long night of watching drunk people in masks?” he asked finally,
just to say something.
She started at his voice, the low murmur of it interrupting her thoughts, then
seemed to remember that she had actually been the one to speak first. She
glanced back at him quietly, still lost in thought.
“This your idea of fun or somethin’?” Daryl gestured to the party, the loud
music and voices behind them.
She shook her head. “Some friends drug me here and then forgot about me,” but
she smiled a little to soften her words, showing she wasn’t angry.
He huffed. “Some friends.”
“Well, what about you? You come here with friends?” she asked curiously.
“Nope,” he said. And then realizing that made him sound weird, who showed up
alone to a party like this anyway, added, “Just my brother.”
“Merle,” he offered. Again, just to say something.
She gave another small start of surprise at that. He didn’t say anything, just
watched as she blinked a few times, as if steeling herself.
“You close with him?” she asked softly.
He snorted, shaking away the feeling of heaviness her stare pierced him with.
Picked at the hole in his jeans for a full ten seconds. “Does it matter?”
“It does matter,” she snapped, her voice strong. “It does.”
Anger flickered in Daryl. He bristled, wanting to lash out at the woman for
being a know-at-all. Sitting down so close to him with her pretty, long legs.
Telling him what mattered.
But.
But she looked at him so earnestly though, pink lips trembling. He couldn’t be
reckless, not like that. He got the feeling she might... break.
He swallowed.
“Yeah, Merle and me, we play basketball and go camping together, roast
marshmallows and shit,” he muttered, forcing a little lightness into his voice.
It cost him something but it was worth it when she stared at him with those big
sad Bambi eyes again and then burst out laughing.
Daryl couldn’t help it, a little grin turned up the corners of his mouth as
well.
“I’m sorry,” she said around her giggles, waving her small hands around. “I
didn’t mean to get, you know, so deep on you about your brother.”
He shrugged off the apology, only to find himself studying her again. Shadows
were still in her eyes but when she had laughed at his stupid joke, she had
physically lightened. With a smile, she was radiant... like sunshine. Even with
a mask on.
Daryl felt the need to busy his hands again. He sucked deep on his cigarette.
It was nearly gone.
“Let’s start over, OK?” she asked, hesitant.
He bit his lip, pretending to mull it over. “Hmm OK,” he finally offered.
Again, she broke out into a grin. It was contagious.
“Asshole,” she teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.
His smile was starting to hurt. It felt so damn alien on his face.
“I’m Beth.” She reached out her arm with all the colorful plastic bracelets.
“Daryl,” he replied, gripping Beth’s small hand cautiously in his own much
larger one before releasing it. Her skin was smooth and warmer than he
expected. The sensation stayed with him, lingering like smoke.
“Nice to meet you, Daryl.”
She beamed.
She fucking beamed.
“Mhmmm.”
He watched her bare legs swinging for a second off the porch steps, the motion
drawing his eyes. His gaze lingered and then slammed back up, wondering
guiltily if she noticed.
To his embarrassment, she was appraising him right back, and if she was
offended he couldn’t tell. A question formed in her eyes.
“Wanna get out of here Daryl? You know, now that we’re acquainted?”
Daryl exhaled wrong, in a way that made him cough. He felt his face burning as
he looked at her.
“Mhhm, where to?”
Beth grinned, flicking her legs back and forth aimlessly. “How about...
anywhere but here.”
Something in his chest leapt but it didn’t really take off. Doubtfully, he gave
her a side glance. Why did she want to go somewhere with him? Why wasn’t she
hanging off the arm of some rich ass at this party? Didn’t ring her bell well
enough?
And if they weren’t, was it bad that he wanted to do it? Make her ring, crystal
clear like church music. Swallow her up, not just see it but feel her bright
smile on his skin? And that maybe she wanted him to want her? To want all of
that?
Why was she here?
“Daryl?” she asked. Again, there was something there in those blue eyes he
couldn’t name, something he didn’t have much experience with.
His eyes floated down to the petal pink mouth that spoke to him, her small
tongue wetting her lips.
The tiny movement, so simple, so sexual, it was like she punched him. And then
Merle’s voice came in for the knockout round.
His brother was laughing at him.
“I got you a lil’ somethin’ to get ya through the night though. All ya have to
do is go outside like I know ya want to.”
Daryl had been outside. And Beth had come. She had sought him out, talked to
him. Why? What did she want from him? There was something here, something
wrong, something not adding up.
Beth, if she was Beth, was not normal. It wasn’t normal for a woman like her to
be wanting to walk alone in the middle of goddamn nowhere with a man like him.
He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept it. Merle had done something.
“We don’t have to go far if you’re waiting for your chaperone,” the masked
woman teased, misinterpreting his horror as reluctance.
Daryl knew she was goading him. Maybe his brother had put her up to the game.
Told her what buttons to push. Told her it would be fun.
“Alrigh’,” he said quietly, stubbing out his nearly finished cigarette. “Ain’t
got nothin’ better to do.”
She rolled her eyes, looking a little hurt but she still stood up first. He
eyed her pretty sandaled feet, taking in the pink polished toes, the supple
looking skin, the whole damn package, a little skeptically before standing.
Again her eyes lightened, almost imperceptibly. “It’s OK,” she said. “We won’t
go too far. Just get some fresh air.”
Daryl shrugged silently. Together they both started to walk. Logically, he knew
his feet were moving but he felt so removed from the process. Anxiety was
gnawing in the pit of his stomach. What the hell was he doing? His brother had
set this messed up thing up. There was no other way to explain it.
The woods and forest blurred around him. Beth was at ease amidst the trees. Her
high heeled sandals cracked several dry branches but overall her steps were
soundless. Any other time, Daryl would have fiercely admired that.
But his brain was still stuck, thinking about Merle, about Beth, if that was
her name, as as he navigated thorny bushes and thick tree roots. She had to be
in some sort of trouble to do what she did. Sell her body to men, her small,
fragile body that moved in woods and shadow like a moth around flame, dancing
and sure.
He tracked her, watching warily. And despite himself, he admired the long lines
of her dancer legs, the slight calve muscles flexing as she too moved through
tree branches and darkness.
He liked following her. Even if she was leading him into something he had told
himself he didn’t want anything to do with, even if it seemed dirty and wrong.
The moonlight threw grey shadows on the smooth skin of her back. Daryl’s eyes
traced them, memorizing the map of dark and light dancing on her flesh.
Beth turned to look at him over her shoulder.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered.
Focus. His gaze went beyond her, his breath held.
There. Just a few dozen feet in front of them. A small, reflective flash of
eyes in the dark. He reached for Beth, tugging her wrist towards his own body
as if to shield her. Her gasp was small but audible. But he couldn’t worry
about that right now, not when something was out there, watching them.
Then Daryl saw it, lupine features forming as his eyes adjusted. He could make
out the squat body and inquisitive, but unthreatening, gaze.
Beth had heard a fox. The creature looked as surprised to see them as they were
to see it, peering at them from behind the safety of a tall and unwieldy pine
tree.
“Just a’lil fox,” he murmured. “Look.”
Beth went nearly as still as him. He had moved in front of her and she...
pressed her chest against his back. “Oooh,” she whispered.
His body tightened like a bow string against the intimate touch of her slight
form but he didn’t pull away, not even when she somehow got even closer,
molding herself just below his shoulder blades.
The fox watched them with its amber eyes and Daryl’s breath caught as Beth’s
body warmth spread.
As if sensing their sudden distraction, the fox backed off, cautiously sinking
back into the night. But Daryl still stood frozen as Beth pressed her cheek
into the curve of his spine. She rubbed her cheek like a needy kitten against
the leather of his jacket.
He had an instant, painful, hard on.
The only noise Daryl’s trained ears detected was his and Beth’s breath,
suddenly both of them were too loud for the sudden quiet. They sounded as if
they been running through miles of woods and forest for days.
“Daryl?” Beth asked, her fingers lightly tickled his sides and he shivered. “Do
you want to...?”
He couldn’t speak, couldn’t force out the words that swirled in his brain of
yes and please. He didn’t know what else to say so he turned his head slightly
to see.
Large blue eyes glittered up at him from behind the pearled mask. She was
blushing, he could see it even in the darkness.
She wet her lips expectantly.
“Why me?” His voice was gruff, barely audible.
Her seductive smile faltered slightly. He wondered if this was the moment she
would come clean, tell him she was already bought and paid for by Merle.
“I just want to feel something. I want to feel something good.”
“I ain’t good, Beth.”
“No?” she questioned seriously, a small crease in her forehead. “That’s funny.
At first, I noticed you at the party just sitting by yourself, and I wondered
what you were thinking. You looked like you were miles away. All these girls
were lookin’ at you but you didn’t notice any of ‘em all,” she smiled to
herself. “Then I saw the way you acted when that drunk woman ran into you,” she
continued smirking.
“I just thought, now there’s an interesting guy... you seemed nice too, that
woman deserved a dressing down, but you didn’t want to fight. So I wanted to
talk to you, even though you looked a little scared when I did. I even got you
here in the woods alone and you haven’t tried nothin’. You proved me right. You
are nice.” She grinned. “You are good.”
She looked at him, clearly assessing until concern crossed her features. He
didn’t know what she saw but he knew how he felt--terrified, like he was
fighting a battle he couldn’t win. He didn’t want to win.
“Stop thinking so much.” Then Beth turned her head the last inch, just enough
to press her soft lips to his and then he was moving to fully face her, gravity
pulling him into the orbit of her small body, and from there, beyond thought,
beyond conscience.
It had been a long time for Daryl and kissing was never something he liked to
do anyway, it was confusing. But where Daryl was awkward, Beth was eager to
take control. She clearly knew how to kiss.
Her mouth opened to his and his tongue tasted, savoring everything--the faint
mint of her toothpaste, the cranberry juice, not beer, she must have been
drinking from her cup earlier.
He didn’t know the next steps, and he could still feel panic curling around the
edge of his consciousness. There was no finesse in how he licked and explored
her mouth but her moan dared him to not stop.
Beth’s clever tongue and lips drew on his instinct like a beacon. He followed
it blindly, sliding his hands down her back, cradling her hips and rocking them
into his own.
Her moan was loud. Thunderous in a too still forest.
“Too rough?” he asked, pulling away with his heart thudding painfully. He tore
his eyes from her shiny lips.
Beth’s eyes were dark, fully dilated and her half-uncovered face was pink
again, but this time from the rasp of his week old beard.
“Nope,” she said and then sealed her mouth with his even more sweetly.
Though she fit so well against his chest he needed more contact, something
substantial to hold. He let his hands stroke upwards, barely recognizing the
thin material of her white dress. It was her warmth he wanted to anchor to.
Her hair was soft, strands slipping under the pads of his fingers. The ribbon
tie of her mask was there, and suddenly he wanted it off more than anything. He
wanted to see her so badly. He stroked the ribbon, waiting.
She tensed, lips parting against his to whisper. “Let’s leave it on. It’ll be
fun, don’t you think?”
Her shy smile only made his stomach knot. The twisting and turning of what
Merle had done, what he himself would do, returning, as he realized she didn’t
want him to see her. Look her fully in the face.
He nodded hesitantly, letting his hands drop to his side.
Beth was reaching for his shirt and tugging. “We can definitely take this off
though,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
Daryl pulled away slightly and she froze.
“I keep that on,” he told her, wondering how much Merle told her. Didn’t
matter. He gently redirected Beth’s small hands to his jeans, his fingers
locked over the front of her hand.
Her eyes widened as he pressed her palm hard against his erection. He was thick
and he knew it, straining the worn denim jeans he always wore.
Beth’s fingers were shaking under his. Maybe this wasn’t the way she normally
did things. He bet rich guys would give her flowers, take her to a nice Italian
joint to slurp spaghetti before they tried to get inside of her. Here he was,
having her paw him in the dark of night, in the middle of nowhere.
Yet she had made her mind up and she wasn’t running away. His zipper came down
under her fingers and the v of his pants slowly widened. His dick rose up like
a flag.
He wanted to laugh at the sight until Beth gave a little gasp.
She was studying him. Her eyes traced him from the head of his cock to the base
with such interest it made his face burn.
He wondered why Beth was more comfortable with his dick then showing her face
to him. He pushed the thought away, didn’t matter. She didn’t care, why should
he.
Then her palm glided up his cock and then back down again and he found that
nothing really did matter other than that.
She watched his face as she experimentally stroked his foreskin. It felt really
damn good. He had to bite back a moan, his eyes slipping shut as her hot hand
wrapped around him and squeezed.
“That’s nice,” he told her, feeling like he should finally say something.
She peered up at him with a shy smile. “What else do you like?”
He swallowed. Her lips were hovering so close he could feel her fruit juice-
scented breath.
“Looking at you,” he said simply. “Touching you.”
She blinked. He had surprised her. She seemed to consider him, then giggled.
Sitting back on her heels on the grass, she stared up at him.
“Where do you want to touch me?”
“Your cunt.”
Her eyes got so big even under her mask and he wondered again if he had fucked
up, using such a crude, dirty redneck word with her.
“OK,” she said finally, and then made a move as if to stand.
“Wait,” he mumbled. He had his leather jacket peeled off and on the piles of
leaves and dewy grass beneath her.
Beth didn’t break eye contact with him as she sat on the silky and frayed
inside lining.
“Touch me,” she said softly.
He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands were raising the hem of her dress up
to the knobs of her hips with one shaky breath. Flesh colored, plain panties
were not what he expected, neither was the small damp spot his fingers traced.
Beth was wet for him. She gave a small sigh and curled her legs around his,
urging him closer.
“Touch me,” she repeated, even as her legs quaked.
He felt so damn nervous, tracing her clit through the material.
“I want it.”
Her breath was a dazed drawl by his ear and before he could react she was
showing him--reaching forward and wrapping her palm against his weeping cock.
“More.”
“Fuck.”
He didn’t know who was talking.
Hands and legs were all fumbles and tangles, both of them furiously and
frantically trying to remove underwear and jeans. Beth was bare before he was,
legs wrapping around him. She wouldn’t stop wiggling impatiently and he had to
tug her hand away from his over sensitive cock before it was too late.
“Daryl,” she panted. As if from far away, he realized his knees were pushing
into sticks and rocks and it was fucking uncomfortable and he didn’t fucking
care. Not when she was saying his name.
Her back was arching as delicate as a swan’s neck, long legs opening and
inviting him in. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself there, thrust his
cock deep and take everything she would offer him. But he also wanted this to
last, this strange gift that would only shame him later, this time with an even
more strange and beautiful woman.
Somehow her white dress had come mostly undone, the skirt was around her bra
line but the tight top was still molded to her breasts. He had to see her tits,
had to taste them like he tasted her mouth.
He grabbed at the fabric and as if coming out of a daze, she caught on to help
him. Her perfect tits were barely free before he was sucking one into his
mouth, hard. He took his time-- swirling his tongue roughly around one plump
and rosy nipple, then the other.
Beth whimpered, hips spasming into his rib cage. His shirt had ridden up and he
loved that he could feel her cunt there, smearing so hot and wet against his
skin.
He rubbed himself against her clit. Somehow even her smallest of body parts was
cute, a pink little nub of nerves that he wished he had taken the time to suck
just as hard as her breasts.
“C’mon,” she urged, sensing his distraction and rocking her hips towards his.
Steeling himself, he reached into his pocked for the condom his brother gave
him and rolled it down on his erection. Then he leaned forward, his weight
centered on one forearm, his other hand guiding himself down, parting the lips
of her pussy.
God, she was sopping wet and even through the latex sheathing his dick, he
could feel her. The blunt head of his cock was enveloped in a tight pinch of
resistance as he pushed into her and he had to tear his eyes away. The sight of
his dick sliding into her pink insides was too much. He just couldn’t take it.
He needed to look at something else, anything else, before he literally blew
it. But she was wearing a goddamn mask and her face was turned away from his,
forehead pressed into the wrist of his flat hand. He couldn’t see her but she
was whimpering a mix of curses and pleas. He tasted blood he was biting his lip
so hard. Ping ponging his gaze from her bare shoulders to her flat belly, Daryl
started a rhythm that was less about speed and more about penetration. Let his
cock go deep until it wrenched a ragged cry from her, then started again.
She was rubbing herself, small fingers like dancers on her clit, rolling and
rubbing in time with his thrusts. “Harder,” she whimpered. “I want to feel
you.”
There was nothing for him to do but obey her command, losing himself again and
again as he bottomed out, filled her cunt so tightly he wondered if it was
hurting her. As much as she could though from under the weight of his body, she
was meeting him. Fucking impaling herself.
“Fucking christ,” he gasped. “Look at me. I wanna see you when I fuck you.”
Her eyes fluttered open as his free hand fisted her hair, pulling her pretty
face to his.
Though she was masked, he could feel the warmth of her cheek, see the dazed
blues of her eyes as his cock sank deep again.
He held her eyes as he came, a sweaty heaving mess. Her hand had sped up
between their bodies and she followed him right off the sharp edge, her cunt
gripping him tight, milking him. It was like a wave passed over them, wiped
everything away until there was only her, still shaking beneath him.
She was watching him, almost seemed to be waiting.
Gently, he pulled away from her as his heart rate slowed.
Still laying on his jacket with the white dress around her waist, Beth gave a
small giggle. He looked at her sharply. “Wow,” was all she said, raising her
eyebrows at him. Her cheeks were as red as apples, sweat clinging to the
tendrils of her hair.
He forced a smile, disposing of the condom he wore into the bushes near them.
Beth frowned. She sat up and leaned onto his shoulder, her long hair trailing
down his arms.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
Daryl shrugged. “I dunno, just wondering what I owe.”
Beth pulled away from him. With his arms free, he grabbed at the pants hanging
off his ankle.
“Excuse me?”
“Did Merle pay you enough?” He asked, feeling slightly irritable, embarrassed.
He stared down at the worn denim in his hands.
“Merle?” Beth questioned, after a long pause. “Your brother? Why would he?”
He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t stand to look at her, sitting there, naked and
beautiful in her pearled white mask.
“Oh.” She stood up, straightening out her own dress warily.
He pulled up his pants, buttoned them.
“You think your brother paid for me to sleep with you is that it? You think I’m
a prostitute?”
Finally, he dared a glance at her. She was mussed up like an angry kitten,
fixing him with a hard stare.
“Why else would you go into the woods with a stranger ya don’t even know and
fuck him?” he snapped.
Beth gasped and then stepped forward as if she was going to slap him.
He was springing into action before he could stop himself, grabbing her wrist
roughly. Angrily, she wrenched it back.
“Fuck you, Daryl!” she yelled. “You don’t feel anything for anyone do you?
You’re a coward!”
She started to walk away but his fingers were caught on the colorful plastic
bracelets she wore. His hold tightened and the rubber pulled as she pulled,
breaking under his grip.
Beth gasped, trying to move away from him again but she was too late.
He saw it on her pale wrist even in the night, the red angry lines, scabbed and
crusted over.
He was dumbfounded, he barely felt it when she shoved him back, nearly sending
him stumbling over a tree root.
“Leave me alone!”
He didn’t follow her this time. Securing her dress quickly, Beth started off in
the direction they had come, alone. He watched her until her silvery blonde
head had completely disappeared.
He felt strange on his walk home, disturbed. Beth hadn’t wanted any money and
that didn’t make sense in anyway that he could see. No way Merle paid her
enough.
Was she fucking crazy or something? How else could the cuts on her wrist make
any sense? But the thought didn’t satisfy him, and he couldn’t shake the
feeling of wrongness. That he had been the one to screw something up. That he
had convinced her maybe there was less good out there than she had hoped for
when she had first seen him.
It was later that he found it, returning to his and Merle’s truck.
A black plastic bag was sitting on the driver’s seat. It hadn’t been there when
they parked at the house party or maybe it had been, but Daryl hadn’t noticed.
Inside the bag was a bunch of a girly magazines, Playboys and Hustlers. Big
breasted blondes with orange skin staring at him blankly.
Merle’s words echoed again.
“You don’t know what you’re missing, do ya? I got you a lil’ somethin’ to get
ya through the night though. All ya have to do is go outside like I know ya
want to.”
Goddamnit. Fuck. “Stupid!” He punched the car door abruptly. Then again, harder
and harder. Beth’s face came to him, but it was half-obscured. He wondered if
he would ever see her again, if he would even recognize her.
“Stupid,” he whispered. He knew better than to even try. He was not good. He
was a Dixon.
End Notes
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