Scratching an Itch

Story Info
Sometimes scratching an itch isn't quite what it seems.
857 words
4.27
21.8k
1
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

{Author's Note: This first-person story was inspired by a stray, aggravated comment from a friend, who shall remain thankfully nameless--well, that, and she knows where I live...}

***************************


Oh, god...I can't believe I woke up feeling this way! I can't believe I've suffered this incessant need ALL day! I tried everything this morning to ease this need in my panties. Rubbing, stroking, scratching--I took a shower and rubbed the soapy, slippery scrubby between my thighs for what felt like half an hour, trying to relieve this burning need. Trying to scratch this desperate itch deep inside!

How many different settings did I try on the shower massager? Geez...I don't know; spray, slow pulse, then fast and hard, and back again, all trying to get some sort of deep, intense relief. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

All I did was take the edge off for a little while, leveled the top, but within ten minutes of drying off, it was there again, mocking me, taunting me, climbing right back up to an unsurmountable peak.

Because of it, I debated, dress slacks for today, or nylons and a skirt? I chose the skirt, in the hopes that the lighter material covering my crotch would air out the dampness, maybe even dry up the need...but I wasn't that lucky. I squirmed in my car, shifting gears, changing lanes. I squirmed in my office chair, reading emails, typing reports.

I bit my lip through a meeting, then hurried off--no, I *escaped* to the ladies' room, as soon as it was through, and I did things with my fingers in there that shouldn't be done in an office bathroom stall. I touched myself over and over, each time I visited the loo, prodding and poking and seeking a finger-based relief, but it still wasn't enough. It was hard to stifle my moans and present a polished, professional façade, and I was hungry for something that my lunch of chicken salad and a soda simply could not satisfy.

I know my co-workers looked at me askance a few times through the; they knew there was something going on with me, something I was trying to hide. But not one of them had a clue as to the throbbing itch I desperately needed to satisfy.

About an hour before the end of work, I knew I was defeated. There was no way I could focus, not with IT, between my legs, ruling supreme over body and mind. It was all I could do to pretend to work; the client I spoke with on the phone no doubt thought I was insane, breathing a little too heavily, pausing between replies as I gnawed on my lip, holding back the urge to shove my hand up under my skirt and go at it for all I was worth. With only ten minutes to go, I nearly did just that, then Thompson came in and wanted to go over the Hong-Wu file for some last minute changes, and I had to pretend my hand wasn't already up at the top of my thighs, trying to dig a convenient hole through my pantyhose.

I didn't go straight home, however; instead, I swung by the drugstore. I had to get some relief, so I picked up a tube of my favorite creme, the one that was the most effective at quelling this deep of a need, and took it home. But, I had to wait.

I squirmed. I crossed my legs and uncrossed them. I hobbled and bobbled and bounced with my knees, like I had to pee, but was unable to get into an occupied bathroom. I ate dinner with a grimace, shifting and wriggling my hips with impatience. I tried to watch t.v., but it was no good. My cunt--and by this point, there was no mincing words--had complete control of my concentration.

So back into the shower I went. Soap and water, scrubby and massager. Oh, the relief was only temporary, but how GOOD that slick, slippery lather felt! How incredible was the pounding of the spray, as it beat the throbbing need into utter submission. Who would have thought a shower massager could become a Dominatrix of the Deluge? All I cared was that it was an utter delight. I played that water spray over my pussy lips, sighing and groaning and rolling my eyes back in my head. I did not leave until the water turned cool, but even that felt good, too.

Shivering, I toweled off. Grabbing the box that contained the creme, I ripped it open with all the frenzy of a lusty barbarian on a bedslave raid, tearing the clothes from some terrified maid. I grabbed the plunger, filled it with creme, and shoved it into that crevasse of need. My finger squirted the creamy stuff deep inside, and I couldn't help it--I pumped the applicator in and out, in and out, desperate for relief!

Finally, I turned down the lights and crawled into my bed, and did my best to try and get some sleep. Waiting for the yeast infection creme to work.

Gah, I miss sex...

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 14 years ago
I had a feeling...

that it might be a yeast infection. I've had a few - not fun, especially when all you want to do is scratch and rub and just cause massive harm to yourself to make the itch go away.

Funny though. Many thumbs up.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
LOL!

Anyone who calls a yeast infection gross obviously hasn't ever got one! Yeah, sure its icky and gross... and annoying as hell... but I'm so glad u brought out the humor in it as well... good one!

ladyofthemasqueladyofthemasqueabout 19 years agoAuthor
Author's Reply

Well, it may be gross to some people, but the truth is, the itching sensation is VERY much a form of stimulation. If you're somewhat into BDSM (as my friend is, not to mention myself), the agony of incomplete relief, coupled with such a strong stimulation--and it feels sooooo good to scratch an itch, even if it's merely a temporary relief, just like poison oak or poison ivy--is very sensual. The only problem is, to cure a yeast infection, one must abstain from sex during the cure-phase. No matter how horny one might get.

My friend's commentary that sparked this tory ran along the lines of: "Oh, goddammit, I'm so horny, I need some *relief*!!" My eloquent enquiry: "...Oh?" Her explanation: "Yeah, the things my bf and I were doing gave me a yeast infection, and it's driving me insane--you know, in a very bad but very good way?" Whereupon our conversation degenerated into particulars of how similar trying to rub the itching into submission is very much like trying to rub one's desires into submission, hence this humorous plot-bunny. Of course, you have to picture her face scrunching up in all sorts of funny positions as she's squirming in her seat...and then it happens: this guy comes over and starts chatting her up (totally ignoring me, hmph), and insinuates that she looks like she's 'hot' and that he's offering to 'take care of that for ya, honey'.

I nearly died of laughter...

~Lotm

don87654don87654about 19 years ago
Not gross....sometimes this just happens....

Being that I CARE about women and how they must feel, I'm sure that this happens a lot. I DON'T believe in Machismo. Women are people, too, and deserve a break. There are all sorts of female problems out there that us men don't have any business ridiculing. I consider myself lucky to be able to enjoy one of these gals that may be having similar problems, but because she is a woman she is doing her best to accomodate us men. This story may be gross to some, but nevertheless it happens and needs to be told.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 19 years ago
ewww gross

this was nasty

Share this Story

Similar Stories

Abducted by Horny Aliens Ch. 01 Chloe is abducted by aliens to be used as breeding stock.in NonHuman
Kitty Gets Spirited Away A costume gala turns into a haunted gang bang for Kitty.in NonConsent/Reluctance
Werewolf's Mate Apha realises his mate is a woman.in NonHuman
Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 001 Mike inherits an old house. There's a nymph in the tub!in NonHuman
Taken by the Viking Ch. 01 Trish is captured by the Wolf's men & one of them wants her.in NonConsent/Reluctance
More Stories