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Scratch Man

"I have this uncontrollable need to furiously scratch at a man during sex," the 25 year-old model-type in a bikini tells me. "Especially when I'm about to get off." Working at the pool bar at the large resort very
often brings me into contact with the unique. Something to do with the mixture of alcohol, hot sun and
warm water, I guess. Anyway, her confession to me while she's sipping a potent concoction I call The Triple Zipper--her fourth this morning-explains the cat tracks on the shoulders, back, chest and legs
of the guy from Chicago here at the resort's pool bar. "Go on," say I to the gorgeous cat lady. I've
learned that, in this business, coaxing the clientele to converse with me brings bigger tips.

Stroking her long red hair with her right hand, sliding her left hand sensually up and down her upper left thigh, she says, "I shouldn't mention names, of course." "Course not," my reply. Not that I needed a name. 
The guy from Chicago with the scratches all over him is Jacob, a rental car executive. The fact that he
entered the pool area with the cat lady and was staring at her while she sat on a stool at the bar here, coupled with his marks, was a definite giveaway, as to who scratch man was. "Take my present scratch man," she continues. "I was out horseback riding all day, sweaty all over. When I came back to the room to
shower, there he was, wanting to go down on me, lick my cunt before I could even wash myself there.
When he was licking me between my legs as I sat on the edge of the couch, sticking his tongue up my sweaty, hot cunt, tasting me, I reached down and dug into his shoulders with my sharp nails. I couldn't
help myself. Him washing me with his tongue while I was fresh from being sexually stimulated by the
horse ride, my cunt strong with the flavors of my sweat and feminine passion juice...such a turn on!! Do you know what it feels like to have a man use his tongue to wash out your sweaty, orgasmic-flavored
cunt?" "Uh huh," say I. "I MEAN NOOO. Go on, though." "Well, I came right in his mouth. I had an orgasm so deep, so powerful that I could hear the scratch man swallowing my juices, they were so plentiful. He sucked more out of me that one time than I usually put out in a week. His shoulders were a mess, though. A scratched-raw mess." "I see," say I.

"The next night, my scratch man wanted to fuck me, said he'd give me the best lay of my life. His shoulders were really red-streaked from the night before, but that didn't distract him or me. He was fucking me missionary-style, pumping that beautiful cock inside my cunt for nearly 20 minutes before I was ready to cum. Naturally, at that point, I started digging his back...furiously. He didn't miss a stroke throughout,
though. Just kept humping me throughout the scratching." "More?" I ask. "Yes," her reply. "The third night, scratch man wanted to do my legs. I mean, he wanted to lick me from the bottom of my feet
up to my cunt. But he wanted me to work out first, to get REAL sweaty...so he could lick that sweat
off my legs. I used the resort's gym equipment for about an hour, until I was dripping with sweat. Scratch man started low, at my feet, so he could lick the sweat from my feet while they were 'ripe', he said. Next, my legs were tenderly washed by his tongue, it sliding up the inside of my right leg, down the outside of it, lapping, licking all that female sweat off, swallowing it. Repeating that on my other leg...finally driving me
near climax from the licking and the thought of all that feminine work-out sweat going inside him.
Well, at that point, I pushed him down until he was flat on his back. Then I sat on his groin, facing him, feeling his hardness through the shorts we both had on. I started grinding my cunt into his hardness,
teasing his cock. Continuing to grind my cunt into his cock, our shorts separating cock from cunt, he began moaning. Hearing those passion sounds from him, I rose a bit, slid my right hand under my cunt and over his extremely hard cock. I could feel his cock beginning to pump cum into his shorts, so I started squeezing it through his shorts, until I felt his cum seeping right through the shorts. Feeling his hot cum on my hand, combined with the leg-licking I had just experienced and my grinding, sent me into extreme
climax. I withdrew my right hand, bent forward and, with both hands, dug his chest something awful. What a mess. "

Looking over at Jacob there, red traces in all the places she mentioned except on his legs, I ask the cat lady, "You didn't mark this scratch man on the legs?" "Why, yes," she says. "How did you know." "Just a guess," I reply. "I wanted to thank the scratch man for the wonderful sex of the past three nights, so I offered to give him oral sex, to get down on him and suck his cock. I was on my knees before the standing scratch man, taking all 8 inches of him into my mouth with each stroke, sucking him into climax when I caught a glimpse of myself in the room's mirror. Well, before the scratch man could cum, I started to have an orgasm myself...from seeing myself in that mirror sucking cock. I couldn't help myself. I REALLY lit
into his legs with my fingernails, running my nails down the outside of his legs while he fucked me in the mouth. Before the scratch man could cum in my mouth, his legs were streaked with deep red tracks, ..."

"I see," say I. "Unusual story. How long have you and the scratch man been together?" "Oh, just the four days here," she comes back with. "And he's leaving tonight." I stop the glass-washing I'm doing and look at this cat woman closely. She has green eyes that seduce a man alone. Her face is perfect, no blemishes.
Breasts at least a 'D' cup with nipples hard and visible through the bikini top. I'd guess her at 38/26/38. Ideal woman You can imagine yourself with a goddess when you look at this cat lady. I ask her how
long she's going to be here for. "Oh, another week," she tells me. "Do you bleed easily?" she adds. I look over at the scratch man in the pool chair. He's waving at me as he gets up and starts walking away. He is a mass of red tracks. "No," I tell the cat lady. "I don't bleed hardly at all." "Tonight, then?" she asks me.
"Yes," my simple reply. "Your name?" I ask the cat lady. "Kat," she says. I wonder just how many scratch men there are out there as I plan tonight's first encounter with the 'Kat' lady....

(c) Greg Smith 1998
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