Touched by Memory #2
Their breaths tangled, their bodies slick with sweat, the cool countertop beneath her a sharp contrast to the heat still coursing through her.
Mark exhaled, forehead resting against hers.
“Jesus, Sarah,” he panted. “What’s gotten into you?”
Sarah's lips curled into a breathless satisfied smile.
She could still feel the phantom press of Anya’s lips at her ear.
Come find me.
She swallowed, her fingers tracing the damp skin of his back.
She should have told him.
She should have admitted where she’d been, what she’d done.
But instead, she kissed him- deep and slow, as if that would erase the truth burning beneath her skin.
But the answer was simple.
Anya.
The morning light filtered through the bedroom curtains, casting soft golden streaks over the sheets. Sarah stirred, her body warm, limbs heavy with sleep. Marks breath was slow and steady against the back of her neck, his chest pressed against her bare spine.
Then she felt it.
Thick, hard, hot- the unmistakable press of his morning wood nestled against the curve of her ass.
She shifted slightly, just enough to press back against him, and Mark groaned in his sleep. His arms tightened around her, his hand drifted lazily over her stomach, fingers tracing small absent-minded circles against her skin.
Still half- asleep, he moved instinctively, his hips rolling forward, his cock pressing into the space between her thighs. His hand roamed lower, sliding down her belly, fingers finding the wet heat waiting for him.
Mark exhaled sharply, his fingers stroking through her slick folds.
“Fuck, baby…” His voice was thick with sleep, gravelly and deep.
He pushed forward, his tip slipping between her folds, half-hard but growing thicker with each slow thrust.
Sarah moaned softly, arching her back to take him deeper. His cock stretched her inch by inch, still soft enough to tease, but swelling inside her with each lazy roll of his hips.
His hand reached around her waist, fingers spreading her apart, letting him feel the way his cock glided in and out of her, coated with her arousal.
“Goddamn,” he groaned, his breath hot against her ear.
His pace was slow, torturous- each thrust deeper, fuller, harder as he grew thicker inside her. She clenched around him, and he cursed under his breath.
“Fuck- not yet.”
With a low growl, he slipped out of her, his cock throbbing, slick with her need. He wanted to stretch her open again- but not before he had his fill of her.
“On your knees,” he murmured, guiding her onto all fours.
Sarah obeyed, her back arching, her ass lifting as she braced herself against the mattress. Before she could catch her breath, Mark’s hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wide, and then-
His tongue found her.
She gasped, her body jolting as his mouth sealed over, his tongue flicking over her clit, then delving deeper, tasting the slick mess he had made of her.
“Oh God…”
He licked her slowly, long and deep from behind, his hands gripping her hips still as she trembled against his mouth.
He didn’t stop.
Didn’t let up.
He ate her like a man starving, his tongue curling inside her, stroking that spot that made her legs quake.
Sarah’s arms gave out, her cheeks pressing into the sheets as she moaned helplessly, her body surrendering completely.
She was so wet, dripping on his tongue, her thighs shaking as she teetered on the edge of release.
Mark knew.
And he pulled away just before she could fall.
“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice smug and rough with hunger.
Then he slammed into her.
Sarah choked on a gasp, her fingers curling into the sheets as Mark filled her in one deep, punishing thrust.
He was bigger like this- hard, thick, relentless.
He gripped her hips and fucked her without mercy, his cock stretching her, slick and raw, his body colliding with hers in deep, powerful strokes.
“Yes,” she moaned, “God, yes- more.”
But it wasn’t enough.
Sarah wanted more than just his cock- she wanted his control, his dominance, his punishment.
She wanted to feel it.
She arched harder, pushing back against him, daring him to take her rougher.
Mark growled, his fingers digging into her skin as he rose to his feet, towering over, changing the angle, deepening his thrusts.
He pounded into her, deep, brutal, claiming, his cock hitting that perfect spot that sent her spiraling, her thighs trembling--
And then he pulled out.
A sharp, needy cry left her lips as he teased the tip against her entrance, barely pushing in before withdrawing again.
“No,” she gasps. “No- please.”
Mark smirked, dragging the head of cock through her soaked folds, torturing her with shallow, teasing thrusts.
“You want more,” he murmured. “Then beg.”
Sarah whimpered, her fists clenching the sheets. “Mark- please. I need it. I need you to…”
“To what?” His voice was dark, low, deliciously cruel.
She turned her head, her eyes blazing with need.
“Punish me.”
Mark’s restraint snapped.
With a brutal thrust, he slammed back inside her, stretching her tight folds to the brink, pounding into her hard, fast and ruthless.
Sarah cried out, her body straining to take him, her pleasure mingling with the exquisite ache of being so full, so stretched, so completely his.
“Fuck- you’re so tight, baby.” His voice was ragged, desperate, his grip bruising as he drove in to her.
He was too deep, too thick- her walls squeezing around him as he fucked her harder, deeper, punishing just like she wanted.
Her body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her, so intense it was almost too much.
Mark wasn’t far behind.
His thrusts turned erratic, his fingers biting into her hips as he buried himself to the hilt-
And then he shattered, his release spilling deep inside her, his body shaking as he came with a shuddering groan.
They collapsed on the bed, tangled, breathless, wrecked.
Mark let out a ragged breath, his forehead pressed against Sarah’s shoulder, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his release.
“Fuck, Sarah…” His voice was hoarse, raw. He swallowed, his fingertips tracing absent patterns over her hip before he murmured, "We’re changed, aren’t we?”
Sarah stiffened slightly, but she didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Because he already knew.
Because he’d thought of her too.
Of Anya.
The way she moved. The way she looked at them. The way she made them both feel- alive, reckless, insatiable.
His cock twitched, still buried inside Sarah, not quite softening, still sensitive, still aching.
He hadn’t just fucked his wife.
They had both been fucking a ghost of something more.