Joe stirred in the quiet light of early morning, the world outside their tent still hushed in sleep.
His eyes opened halfway, heavy with drowsiness. Amy remained curled beside him, her breath slow and even, a soft snore escaping her every so often.
Her forehead rested gently against his chest, one hand loosely draped over his stomach.
For a moment, he just lay there, taking it in.
Warmth. Quiet. Comfortable.
Then he shifted slightly beneath the blanket... and froze.
There was a sensation. Warm. Damp. Pressed around the tip of his cock.
His brows furrowed, lips parting slightly as the sleep fog lifted just a bit more.
He let the pleasure take him for a short while, before the realization hit him.
Lifting the blanket, careful not to wake Amy...
What he saw shocked him completely.
Andrea almost fully nude, lips wrapped around his cock.
Feeling the blanket be removed, didn't bring embarrassment to her.
Just awareness. She had been caught.
Joe unsure of what he should do simply let the pleasure continue, resting his hand atop her head.
The comfort of her mouth, increasing as Andrea felt emboldened.
She increased her pace, taking his cock further into her mouth, down her throat.
Guck! Guck! Guck!
The sensation wasn't something new, however, it was better than anything he had felt before. Andrea was clearly very skilled.
Joe felt a pressure building. A natural reaction from his body.
Still, Joe exhaled slowly, hand pressing down on her head, causing her to gaze into his eyes.
He came, pouring load after load down her throat.
Andrea coughing slightly as she tried to swallow everything, still staring into Joe's eyes.
A single line of his cum spilling down her lip to her chin.
Joe feeling thoroughly satisfied, moved his hand away. Feeling her slowly lift her head, cock falling out of her mouth.
Still semi erect, he watches as Andrea catches her breath before sultrily raising her dainty finger and scooping up the spilled cum on her chin.
Bringing it to her open lips, her tongue licking it off, never breaking eye contact.
Joe sighed in pleasure, the moment washing over him.
Andrea smirked, attempting a mock frown. "Trying to drown me?!"
Joe coughed, trying and failing to stifle a chuckle.
The sound stirred Amy. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep. "What's so funny?" she mumbled, voice thick with grogginess.
Andrea froze mid-motion, something semi-hard still in her grasp.
Amy blinked, her eyes darting between Joe, shirtless, freshly woken and Andrea, clad in nothing but her panties. Just like her.
Her gaze dropped. She saw what was in Andrea's hand. Her face went crimson, first with shock, then with fury.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Amy shouted, voice cracking with betrayal.
Andrea stood there, frozen, guilt etched across her face. Caught red-handed.
Amy didn't wait for an explanation.
Heartbroken, she yanked on a nearby dress and stormed out of the tent, her breath shuddering.
Andrea rushed after her, barely dressed herself. Just a long shirt and panties as she disappeared from view.
Moments later, Joe stepped out calmly, walked over to a duffel, and pulled out a red shirt and a pair of black sports shorts.
Campers glanced his way, but none lingered. Drama followed Joe like a shadow.
Most had learned not to get involved.
Joe made his way to the main firepit, where Rick sat with Carl, T-Dog, and Glenn.
Lori sat farther off with a few other women, occasionally casting quiet, regretful looks toward Rick.
Joe sat down beside the fire, grabbed a metal can hanging above it, and poured himself a cup of coffee.
The scent hit him like a wave of calm. He sipped. He sighed.
"Nectar of the gods," he muttered.
Rick looked over, his expression distant, shoulders heavy.
Trying to lighten the mood, Glenn teased, "Damn, Joe... two women running out of your tent? Share your secret."
T-Dog chuckled, shaking his head.
Joe barely reacted, glancing at Rick. "You look like hell. What's going on?"
Rick glanced at Carl, then leaned closer, voice low. "She cheated on me, Joe… with Shane. My best friend."
Joe raised an eyebrow. "So... not that worried about Shane anymore, huh?"
Rick blinked. Then, surprisingly, let out a soft chuckle. "Touché."
Carl, ever curious, looked up. "What did you do to Amy? She was crying!"
Joe sighed. "Andrea decided to wake me up… in a way that wasn't very appropriate. Amy woke up."
The group went silent. Glenn and T-Dog stared, mouths half-open. Carl, confused, tilted his head.
"Maybe... Amy wanted to wake you up?" Carl said innocently, a hopeful grin forming.
Glenn groaned dramatically. "Man, no fair! I'd kill for someone to wake me up like that."
T-Dog gave him a side-eye. "Not just anyone, dude. Half the camp's dudes, and most of the women are taken."
Rick snorted. "Slim pickings, huh? Maybe Joe'll toss you a favor."
Joe gave Glenn a slow, dangerous look.
Glenn recoiled like a scolded puppy, muttering, "I didn't mean it like that…"
T-Dog patted Glenn's back. "Hang in there, bro. Maybe next apocalypse."
The tension lifted, the fire crackling softly between them as laughter rippled through the group. What started heavy had somehow found its way to something light.
Finished with his coffee, Joe made his way to the RV. He grabbed the bait he'd prepared the day before...still sealed in its pot.
Then walked over to a nearby tackle box, selecting what he needed. With practiced ease, he picked out a sturdy fishing pole.
Snipping off the line when he noticed an improperly tied knot on the old hook.
He passed the line through a colorful, multi-hook lure, tying a tight palomar knot.
Satisfied, he headed down the gravel path toward the lake.
Reaching the wooden canoe, Joe dragged it to the water's edge, loaded the bait and rod inside, then pushed it out far enough that his shorts got soaked up to the thighs.
Hopping in, he grabbed the paddles and rowed smoothly into deeper waters.
Out in the middle of the lake, he opened the bait pot. The mixture was somewhere between hard candy and gum in texture.
One by one, he packed the gooey bait onto each hook and cast the line. He set the pole down and waited in silence, letting the calm settle in.
He noticed a few eyes on him... curious glances from the shore.
Joe glanced across the lake and stiffened. Amy and Andrea were mid-argument, voices rising.
Andrea said something that made Amy pause... then came the slap.
Andrea, stunned for a second, slapped back. Women nearby rushed to break them apart.
Joe sighed and looked away, forcing the scene out of his mind. He could handle walkers. Women? Not so much.
His thoughts wandered to Claire, to how he met her... pure luck. A chance encounter at a diner.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, remembering photographs that no longer existed... at least, not in this world.
He had once asked Rick about the war he fought in... only to find out it hadn't happened here.
Joe had changed the subject quickly, not wanting Rick to dig deeper.
The fishing pole jerked suddenly, bending hard. Joe reacted instantly, reeling in gently, then yanking to set the hook.
He let the fish tire itself out before pulling them in. Four fish broke the surface: a bass, two sturgeons, and a catfish.
Joe hoisted them into the boat, pulled out a folding knife, and quickly put the fish down. He gutted them right on the boat, throwing them in the water.
He removed them from the lure, baited it again, and cast once more.
...
Hours passed. The sun crept past its peak... around 1 PM. Joe paddled back to shore, satisfied with a haul of nine fish.
A surprising variety of fish for a quarry lake, but not unheard of.
Back at camp, fish slung on a chain over his shoulder, Joe ignored the stares as he returned. He headed for the table he and Daryl had once used to process deer meat. With methodical precision, he descaled the fish.
He grabbed salt, pepper, garlic and onion powder, paprika, and a pinch of cayenne.
Rubbing the mix into every scored crevice. Using the same skewers they'd used before, he ran them through the fish and carried them to the firepit.
After stoking the flames, he set the fish to cook.
He made his way to the storage area, opening cans of beans and vegetables. The mix sizzled softly in a pot as the air filled with a savory aroma.
Heads turned. Noses lifted. But, Joe didn't look up.
When one side of the fish had crisped to a beautiful golden brown, he turned them, letting the other side finish.
Soon enough, he moved everything to a table near the RV, plating up two meals.
Joe made his way over to where Sophia sat with another little girl and Anna.
Anna tensed slightly but composed herself... she knew Joe wasn't a bad man.
Joe sat down beside Sophia and handed her a plate.
"Lunch time," he said.
Sophia gave a shy, "Thanks."
Joe turned to Anna and the girl beside her, their eyes locked on the crispy fish and sautéed veggies. "Help yourself," he offered before beginning his own meal.
He showed Sophia how to remove the bones, and she picked it up quickly.
Anna and the girl excused themselves and walked to the table, grabbing a plate to share. Onlookers hesitated, then slowly began lining up behind them.
Joe didn't acknowledge the crowd, only offering a nod to those who came to thank him.
When Sophia finished, Joe took her plate and ruffled her hair gently.
He walked toward the wash area but was stopped by a woman who stepped into his path.
"You've done enough," she said, taking the plates from his hands. She headed toward the wash barrel.
Joe nodded once and turned back, returning to Sophia. He sat beside her as she played with her dolls.
Sophia looked up and offered him one. Without hesitation, Joe took it, not wanting to disappoint her.
They began to play together, an unexpectedly tender sight.
Carol, returning from tending to Ed, stopped in her tracks at the scene.
Joe, the hardened stranger, sitting cross-legged and holding a doll. Her face softened.
Others noticed too.
Daryl, watching from nearby, muttered to himself with a half-smirk. A new nickname for Joe was already forming.