Touched by Memory
Sarah told herself she was just running errands.
That was all.
She had a list- groceries, dry cleaning, a stop at the boutique downtown.
But somehow, instead of turning onto the highway toward home...
She ended up here.
In front of The Candy Club.
During daylight.
With the doors locked, the neon lights dark, and the parking lot completely empty.
No music. No moaning bodies.
Just the quiet hum of her car engine... and a throbbing ache between her legs.
She had tried to ignore it.
Tried to push the phantom touch of Anya’s hands, the memory of Mark watching, the way she felt when she let herself go.
But she was still burning.
And now?
She was here. Alone.
Sarah gripped the steering wheel, her breath coming shallow, her thighs pressing together.
This was insane.
She should leave.
Shouldn’t be here.
But she couldn’t move.
Because the moment she looked at the front doors- the same crimson doors she had walked through with Mark that first night, the same doors that had changed everything--
Sarah closed her eyes, but that was a mistake. Because she could still see her.
Come find me.
The voice wasn’t real, but it didn’t need to be. The whisper of Anya’s accent curled around Sarah’s spine, dragging her back to that night.
Heat surged through her, pooling low in her panties.
Her hand was slipping between her legs.
She let out a shaky breath, spreading her thighs, pushing her panties aside.
No one was watching.
No one was here.
And yet...
She felt exposed.
Because this was wrong.
And that only made it hotter.
Sarah tilted her head back against the seat, biting her lips, her fingers moving slowly at first, teasing, circling.
The images hit her like a wave.
Anya’s mouth.
Mark’s gaze.
The feeling of surrender.
Her breath hitched.
She imagined stepping inside right now, in broad daylight.
Imagined Anya finding her. Pushing her up against the nearest wall.
Taking her.
Her fingers moved faster.
Her other hand gripped the seat.
She wasn’t supposed to be doing this.
But she couldn’t stop.
Pleasure ripped through her, hard and fast, leaving her breathless, thighs shaking, body wrecked.
And still...
She wanted more.
She stared at herself in the rearview mirror, her skin flushed, her lips parted.
She looked wild.
Untamed.
And completely unrecognizable.
She had never done anything like that before.
Not in public. Not alone.
The shame should have set in by now.
It didn’t.
Instead, she adjusted her skirt with trembling hands, wiped the sweat from her brow, and started the car.
As she pulled out of the parking lot, her pulse was still erratic, her skin still hot- and she knew.
She knew it wasn’t enough.
She needed more.
She needed Mark.
She barely made it through the door before she was on him, pulling at his clothes, sinking her teeth into his neck, desperate to smother the ache Anya had left behind.
She didn’t tell him what she had done.
Didn’t tell him where she had been.
Mark barely had time to react before Sarah’s lips were on his, urgent, reckless, devouring. She pushed him back against the kitchen counter, her fingers clawing at his shirt, dragging it up and over his head.
“Jesus, Sarah-” His voice was rough with surprise, but he didn’t stop her. He never would.
She kissed him harder, silencing any protest, sinking her teeth into his lower lip just enough to make him groan. His hands found her hips, gripping tight, but she didn’t want slow, didn’t want gentle. She wanted to erase.
She needed to drown in something real.
“Bedroom,” he murmured against her mouth, but she didn’t let him finish.
Her hand plunged beneath the waistband of his sweats.
She found him, already stirring at her touch, and wrapped her fingers around his length.
Mark sucked in a breath, his whole body tensing at the unexpected touch.
“No,” she said, breathless, desperate. “Here.”
The raw hunger of her voice sent a shudder through him.
They never did this- not like this.
Not with her this frantic, this consumed.
"Sarah- what -" His words broke into a groan as she stroked him, slow and deliberate.
She felt him thicken in her grasp, felt his heartbeat against her palm.
But it wasn’t enough.
She needed to taste him.
With a sultry gaze locked onto his, she lowered his sweatpants with deliberate slowness. They pooled at his feet, his arousal now fully evident, a testament to her effect on him.
Without hesitation, she sank to her knees, her mouth wet with anticipation.
Her lips parted as she took him in her mouth, her tongue gliding over his length, warm and wet. He was only half-hard at first, but she knew to fix that. She wanted to feel him thicken, to taste the moment his control snapped.
Mark’s fingers curled into her hair; his breath ragged.
“Sarah...” His voice was already unsteady, low and wrecked with disbelief.
She worked him slowly at first, her tongue tracing every inch, her lips tightening around him as she sucked. He twitched against her tongue, growing, stiffening, stretching her mouth wider with each passing second.
Her own arousal pulsed between her thighs as she felt him swell.
She loved this- the weight of him, the power of knowing she was unraveling him with nothing but her mouth.
But then he was too thick, too deep, and she couldn’t stop the soft gag that escaped as he hit the back of her throat.
Mark groaned at the sound, his grip in her hair tightening, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“Fuck-”
She breathed through her nose, relaxing her throat, letting him push deeper. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t pull back. She hallowed her cheeks, swallowing around him, drawing another broken moan from his lips.
Her hand gripped the base of his shaft, stroking what she couldn’t take, her tongue swirling, teasing, milking every sound from him.
Mark’s restraint was slipping. She could feel it, could sense the moment his control shattered completely.
“Sarah-,” his voice was strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
But she wasn’t done with him yet.
She wanted him to come undone.
And he did.
Mark’s breath was ragged as he pulled Sarah to her feet, his hands gripping her hips. She was still flushed, lips swollen, her eyes dark with need.
Without a word, he lifted her effortlessly, setting her down on the cool marble countertop. She gasped at the sensation, but before she could say anything, Mark was already pushing her thighs apart, spreading her wide open for him.
His gaze burned as he looked at her, the slick evidence of her arousal glistening against lace.
She was already so wet- still slick from the car, from her own shameless surrender to the memory of Anya. And now she was using Mark to chase that fire, to smother it.
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, his fingers teasing along the edge of her panties. “Did sucking me off turn you on that much?”
Sarah’s breath hitched, her body already trembling.
“Yes,” she lied, barely above a whisper.
Mark groaned softly, gripping the thin fabric of her panties and ripping them off. The suddenness of it sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her hips instinctively tilting forward, seeking more.
He trailed his fingers along her slit, spreading her open, teasing her with the barest touch. Sarah whimpered, her hands gripping the edge of the counter.
“Mark- “
He didn’t make her beg.
He lowered his head, his breath warm against her sensitive flesh, and then he licked her- long and slow, deliberate.
Sarah cried out, her fingers reaching for his hair, tangling in the curls as he devoured her.
His tongue was relentless, flicking over her swollen clit, dipping lower, testing her, drinking her in. He alternated between soft teasing strokes and deep, hungry licks, his hands gripping her thighs, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
She needed more- and he knew it.
Mark pushed two fingers inside her pink swollen flesh, curling them just right, his tongue stroking the spot that made her body arch off the counter.
Sarah moaned loudly, her thighs trembling around his head as he fucked her with his fingers and licked her at the same time, his pace steady, precise, merciless.
She was so close- her body tightening, her breath coming in desperate, uneven gasps.
And then he sucked her clit in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves until she shattered.
Her orgasm ripped through her, pleasure crashing in waves as she sobbed his name, her body writhing beneath his mouth.
But Mark didn’t stop.
He kept going, licking her through every pulse, every aftershock, until she was whimpering, begging him to stop- because it was too much, yet somehow, not enough.
Finally, when she was shaking beneath him, utterly wrecked, Mark lifted his head. His lips were wet with her, his eyes dark with pure, primal hunger.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Sarah barely had a second to catch her breath before he grabbed her hips, lined himself up, and slammed inside her.
His touch was rough, desperate- exactly what she wanted.
His grip bruised against her waist, his breath ragged.
Then he was inside her, filling her, stretching her, grounding her.
She gasped, arching her back against him as he drove into her, his hands gripping her thighs, holding her open for him.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t slow.
It was raw, frantic, relentless.
“Harder,” Sarah gasped, tilting back to allow him even greater depths. Her nails dug into the countertop as he obliged, his thrusts deep and punishing.
Mark gritted his teeth, his face buried in her neck as he thrust into her, as she clung to him, as their bodies collided, over and over and over again.
“More…please,” she whimpered, her hips rising to meet his every thrust, her inner walls gripping him, slick and warm.
Her head fell back against the cabinets, her nails biting into his shoulders, pleasure coiling tight, tighter- until she shattered around him, her body shuddering.
Mark followed, his grip bruising, his release breaking from him in a deep, guttural groan.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.