The Best Erotic Stories.

Scratching An Itch Pt. II
by Bob Peale
©

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Disclaimer: This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex.

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No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.

*******

As it turned out, the system was a total disaster. After a week, she finally understood what the problem was, but she had at least a week more of work ahead of her to make it right.

To make matters worse, Watertown was not exactly a bustling metropolis. It was a small, family oriented town, with only three bars, and no other night life to speak of. But it wasn't a total loss; most women in town were happily married and well into their third child, so there was not a lot of competition for male attention. Especially at the bar she settled on, which was the least respectable of the group.

Not like she'd ever really had a problem with competition. On these "excursions" she dressed for maximum effect. Her hair hung in loosely at her shoulders, framing her face and making her blue eyes seem dark and mysterious. She was that rare type of redhead, one who actually could tan, and fortunate enough to live in a climate that allowed her to maintain it naturally. Of course, she had no tan lines, so her nipples stood out invitingly pink against the golden brown of her skin. She favored tank tops (preferably light colored or white to show off the tan) with thin, straps, usually a size or so too small so that it strained to cover her tits. The tanks were always very see through, so that when she sat at the bar and the light caught her just right, you could see everything. She worked out almost as religiously as Austin, so even at her age her tits still measured an impressive 36C, sitting full and firm.

She never wore any type of underwear to these places; a bra or panties would just get in the way. And usually, she preferred shorts rather than a skirt, so she could leave SOMETHING to the imagination. She liked to make guys guess whether or not her pussy was shaved bald (it wasn't; the curly red hair was a bigger turn on).

On Tuesday night of the second week, with the disaster finally behind her, she finally met Ron. He was a nice enough guy, 38 years old, a little overweight, and a machinist in a factory one town over. He was around her height, with sandy blonde hair and clean-shaven, and tended to get a little macho after a few beers. But most importantly, he was married.

He'd been eyeing her for almost a week, but hadn't been able to work up the courage to approach her. He would come into the bar after his shift ended at 11pm, throw a few back and talk to his friends before he went home. The first night they talked, his bravado growing the longer they spoke. She could see the wheels turning as he drunkenly leaned forward and asked her if she had any "friends" in town.

"I thought maybe you might want to be my friend," she replied innocently.

His grin spread. They chit chatted some more, and his advances got stronger, but she politely deflected them. Her mission accomplished, she stood up, rubbing her tits against his arm.

"How often do you come here?" she asked in a low voice.

"Every night except Sunday and Monday. Those are my days off."

"Then I'm sure I'll see you later."

Over the next two days, she flirted a little harder, and he responded increasingly stronger. By Friday, she was sure she had him, but she figured she'd better make sure.

The bar was 5 deep, and people who had been drinking heavily in celebration of the weekend since 5pm surrounded her on all sides. By the time he got to her, he was hot and irritated, but she had a beer waiting for him. He smiled as she held it out to him.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," she yelled over the din of the crowd.

She motioned for him to lean closer. "I have been thinking about you all day," she whispered deeply. "I even managed to cum twice thinking about what it was probably like to be fucked by you."

He pulled back, startled. He could smell that she'd been drinking, but he also saw that she was serious. But this was crazy; women like her didn't hit on men like him!

"Tania," he began uncomfortably...and unconvincingly. "I'm a married man. Sure, you're beautiful and all..."

She grabbed one of his meaty hands and turned back to face the bar. Today, she had worn a skirt, so that she would be able to pull this off. Carefully she maneuvered his hand to her crotch, until his fingertips brushed her sopping pussy. His eyes widened, but he said nothing. Very deliberately, she parted her legs, until she was able to slide one of his fingers past the folds of her outer lips and into the warmth of her waiting pussy. He felt her contract and begin to rhythmically hump the finger she'd inserted. He looked around; nobody was paying any attention to him or her. He felt his cock harden at the thought of their little secret. She turned to him, her face calm but her eyes frantic, the only indication of the arousal she was feeling.

"I'm going to cum again. I need to feel you in me," she mouthed silently.

She let out a low, almost imperceptible moan as her orgasm started, closing her eyes tightly and rocking softly. When she was finished, she opened her eyes and looked at him, holding his hand in place.

"I'm leaving town after tomorrow night. Can you meet me? No one has to know."

The smell of pussy filled his nose and clouded his brain. He couldn't believe that no one else smelled it, too.

As if it was someone else speaking, he heard himself say, "I'll take off early tomorrow. Where are you staying?"

Without answering him, she squeezed her eyes tight and began moaning softly again. He felt her pussy wrap around his finger, pulsing as a second orgasm took control of her muscles. He was amazed that she didn't fall over from exhaustion.

"Don't take it out," she said after her breathing returned to normal.

She put her purse on her lap, covering his hand, while she fished around inside for a pen. Tentatively, he wriggled his finger, and was rewarded with a breathy sigh. Emboldened he roughly forced a second one in. She bit down on her lip to keep from squealing as her hand went limp in her bag, the pen forgotten. Hidden safely by the purse, he was able to maneuver his thumb around until he could stroke her clit while he forced his fingers into her. He could see her nipples stabbing through the thin material of her shirt as she worked toward her third orgasm in under an hour. His cock strained painfully against his pants, and he could feel the precum slowly leaking out.

Waking from her lust-induced daze, Tania found a pen and wrote down the motel and room number where she was staying. Leaving her bag in place, she began fucking his hand. Suddenly, she reached down and pulled it out, laying it heavily on the table. It took a minute for her to regain her composure.

"This way I'll be really wet for you tomorrow," she said, handing him the slip of paper and standing. The smell of sex wafted up with her, making his cock throb painfully.

The next evening, Ron pulled up outside Tania's room around 9pm. He was pleased that she'd picked this one; it was out of the way, close to the town line. No one he knew would see his car, and if they did, they probably didn't want to be recognized anymore than he did.

The accommodations hadn't been accidental. Tania had searched out the motel that would afford her the greatest privacy. This one had a few rooms that were actually in a different building from the front desk, with front doors that didn't face the road, and parking that was hidden from view. Like most of the places where she played, this really was a small town; she knew that she would have much better luck if the guy she picked up thought that there was little chance of getting caught.

Ron had debated coming, even after he told his foreman that he didn't feel well and had left work early. He was sure people had seen him talking to Tania in the bar, even though he'd tried to be discreet. Except for last night, he'd never even touched her arm. Man, if anything ever got back to his wife, she'd kill him.

But he'd been so fucking turned on he'd cum in his pants on his way home. He could still smell the musky smell of her pussy after two orgasms. He'd sniffed his fingers all the way home, and sucked on them while he jerked off before climbing in bed. Then he fucked Linda until SHE'D fallen asleep content and satisfied! He couldn't believe that he'd been able to get hard that many times in one night.

So there was really no way that he was going to pass up this chance. He knocked on the door of the room lightly, trying not to draw any attention to himself in the deserted parking lot. He thought he heard movement behind the door, but didn't get a response, so he knocked again. This time, he did hear a muffled "Come in", so he tried the doorknob. The door swung open, but he froze in his tracks.

Tania was sitting on the floor spread eagle, totally nude and covered in sweat. A small clamp cruelly pinched each long, pink nipple. One hand was plunging a dildo in and out of her pussy as fast as it could, while the other was jammed in her mouth, muffling her moans.

"I couldn't wait," she panted. "Now get over here quick and give me something to suck on to keep me quiet while I cum!"

To Be Continued...

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