Richonne One Shot (smut) - inspired by this ridiculously awesome piece of art.
Holding a basket of clean laundry, Michonne walked into the bedroom to find her husband standing there, hands on his hips. He was mostly-dressed, from his boots to his utility belt, wearing everything but a shirt. She admired him while he was distracted, her eyes traveling over where he had filled out, thick in good places. His hair was getting a little long, but she liked it, a few wayward strands falling over his forehead. She ran her eyes down his chest and abdomen and spotted a few curly hairs peeking out above his belt. Maybe she’d get the clippers out and give him another trim. They could make another game of it. A quick glance at his crotch and she guessed he was going without underwear again today. She shook her head internally at how often the man went without drawers. He still hadn’t looked at her, instead staring off to the side, looking a little… .
She put the basket on the bed and faced him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He kept standing there, regarding the room. “I can’t find my… Have you seen my blue shirt?”
Rick turned to her. He tilted his head to the side to eye bare legs, admiring the way the shirt she was wearing ended at her luscious thighs. He blinked. She was wearing his shirt, her hand playing with the collar.
“I’ve been looking all over for that thing,” he said.
“Yeah, but I like that one. It’s my favorite.” He took a step towards her.
Michonne took a step back. “It’s my favorite too. It’s comfortable and it smells like you. Besides, I’m washing all my tops,” she explained.
“Well, what’s in there?” He pointed to the basket.
“The kids’ clothes,” she answered.
They both took another step, hers behind and his forward.
“C’mon Michonne. I’m going on a run.” He continued to approach while she backed away.
Their room wasn’t that big so there wasn’t far to go, but her body pulsed as he continued to pursue her.
Rick glanced at his watch. “Daryl and Aaron are waiting for me now.” He stopped when her back was against the wall.
She began to undo the buttons. “I sent Carl and Judith to go tell them you’re gonna be a little late. Think they’ll wait for you?”
The shirt was completely open now. Rick froze when he realized it was the only thing she was wearing.
“Yeah. Maybe,” he said, the denim shirt already forgotten except for the way it framed her body. His gaze fastened on her plump breasts and he licked his lips. Michonne thrust her chest out and he obliged her, trailing his hands up her sides to cup and knead her tits. He thumbed her nipples, rolling and rubbing them until they protruded out, waiting for his mouth. He pulled on them with hot, open-mouthed kisses.
Michonne pushed her hands through his hair and ran them down the strong column of his neck before gripping his shoulders. He kissed his way up her chest, her neck, her cheek and took her mouth with the fervor of someone who couldn’t ever get enough. He moaned and moved his hands down to take off his utility belt.
“Keep it on,” she purred, her lips against his. She pushed it up to unbuckle the leather belt that held up his pants. When she undid his pants and lowered the zipper, his cock sprung into her hands, unhindered by underwear. She smiled to herself as she grabbed hold and began stroking him.
“What?” he smiled back, but didn’t wait to hear the joke, dropping his head and closing his eyes while she groped and fondled him. Rick gasped as he throbbed in her hand.
She didn’t answer, instead nibbling along his beard until she reached his ear and gently bit his lobe. Rick nuzzled her neck, sucking on the sweet skin there. He cupped her core and parted her folds, caressing her, one finger deep, her wetness telling him she was ready. He grabbed her bottom and lifted her up, securing her against the wall as she rubbed the head of his cock along her slit. Rick entered Michonne in a long, slow, confident thrust. His low moan reflected how glorious it was being inside her, but he told her too. Michonne exhaled with an audible sound and he waited with gritted teeth while she shifted, getting comfortable. When she sighed and wrapped her legs around him, he began to move. He circled his hips, keep his groin tight to hers, grinding deep, his butt clenching with each plunge.
Michonne lapped at his neck and tugged on his curls. It was almost too much, how full he filled her, the utility belt buckle pressing into the tender skin of her mons, the base of his cock grinding against her clit, his hands squeezing her ass.
She whimpered and he groaned and they worked each other. It didn’t take long; it was a quickie after all. Rick spread his feet for better leverage and to keep them from falling once they got there.
Michonne’s toes curled and she came in a rush, the pleasure cascading over her before she could announce it. He grunted as her body milked him, and then he came, mumbling his own satisfaction into her shoulder as he pumped his seed into her. They kissed and touched foreheads amid the heavy breathing of their afterglow.
After cleaning up, Michonne exited the bathroom.
“Here,” she said, slipping off the shirt and holding it out to him.
He shook his head, knowing it would smell like her, like their lovemaking, giving him random and inconvenient erections throughout the day.
“You wear it,” he said. “You look good in blue.”
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