To Scratch an Itch


Usually the small collection of toys I kept under my bed sufficed to satisfy my animalistic urges. Firm, flexible implements that could hit my sweet spot and ease tensions whenever I felt the need.

But every month or so those physical demands would become so intense that only the touch of a real man would calm them.

I worked in marketing and I was damn good at it. I made money, enough to be independent with my own home and a luxury car. But the cost was a lack of relationships. I was thirty-seven and unmarried. I hadn’t even had a boyfriend since my teens. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered me, in fact it was how I’d chosen to live my life. Happy in my own company and focused on work.

I was attractive. I had a good figure and a pretty face. Womanly legs that always caught a mans eye, great tits and smooth slightly dusky skin. Even now as I approached forty I would be considered hot. I just didn’t need or want a husband or partner.

But every now and then, what I did need was to scratch an itch, to satisfy a demand that I fuck myself silly on a real cock. Now was one of those times.

So in a well practiced ritual I was once again using the opportunity of a night away from home to deal with my requirements. It was evening and work was over. Freshly showered I’d dressed in a dark business outfit with a white blouse and dark tights before going to the hotel bar.

As always I seated myself on a stool and let my skirt ride up as I ordered a white wine and sat alone. Like a slave girl in some medieval market I had put myself on display in the most prominent position I could find. I knew hotels like this one were frequented by business people just like me. A simple matter of the workplace demographic meant most were men. They were away from home, away from wives and lovers. There was no shortage of those who would take advantage of that freedom when the opportunity arose. I offered them that opportunity in return for my own satisfaction. A mutual exchange.

The hotel bar, no different to any other that I’d stayed in, was the hunting ground. Subdued lighting, oak tables and a faux sense of quality from soft furnishings and window dressings. Guests, a mixture of managerial types and middle class couples. I’d seen it all before.


Mind if I join you?”

I glanced up with a smile at the voice. A fair-haired man, confident, probably approaching fifty. He had a kind face with a slim, lithe body hidden away under his suit. I’d become quiet an expert at judging a mans true build under their clothing and he looked as though he was still fit.

“No. Not at all.

Name’s Judy.”

I assessed his suit and shirt. Expensive. He had a high position. That suggested he probably held a gym membership. He would still be in shape and that was what mattered.


Hotels are boring places when you frequent them so often don’t you think?”

He beckoned to the bartender.

“Oh I don’t know. There’s usually something to while away the hours.”

I gave my best seductive grin. No need to hide my intentions. Either he was what I was looking for or he would move on while it was still early enough to try someone else.

His eyes run me up and down and he smiled. I knew I was also being judged.

“I was hoping you might think similarly.”

Bullseye. He was the one. I pushed my glass towards him.

“White wine please.

Then we can see what ideas for passing the evening we can come up with.”

The talk for the next thirty or so minutes was idle. No personal details or anything that truly identified us. Just pointless chat that gave the excuse for getting closer or touching briefly, the stroke of an arm, or the brush of a hand to test each others willingness for what was to follow.

It was clear we were on the same page and finally I leant forward with my chin propped on a hand. Big dark eyes and a smile held his attention seductively and I took my opportunity.

“I think we should go to your room.”

I met his gaze, assessing him. He didn’t show shock or surprise, instead he returned a smile and pushed his glass away. As he stood up I knew I’d chosen well. We walked from the bar side by side looking like any other business colleagues, or friends meeting up after work.

A short ride in the elevator to the third floor and along the corridor to his room. I waited patiently with my clutch bag held in front of me while he opened the door with a pass card. A glance up and down saw me set eyes on another couple of people exiting sarıyer eskort a room. Neither looked towards us, not that it mattered. I was nearly a hundred miles from home. No one here knew me.

I stepped through the open door with my mind back on task. These sort of hotel rooms were all the same. A small collection of solid furniture and a bed. That being the only item that held any interest for me. It was the same as the one in my own room, but here under the gentle glow of the wall mounted lamps it held so much promise.

I dropped my small bag on the edge of the divan and stood facing it as John put his arms around my waist from behind. I smelt his aftershave as he nuzzled my neck and I leant back into him. I reached my hands back to touch his hips.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered.

Johns hands rose up over my belly and held my ample tits through the thin material and a gasp of excitement escaped my lips. He squeezed gently, kneading my soft flesh. I felt a tingle as my nipples swelled and hardened.


His lips brushed lightly over my neck and I closed my eyes, letting the sensations swamp me as I felt the first pressure of his hardening cock against my bum cheeks. That was what I wanted. Needed. No toy or interestingly shaped bottle from my toiletries collection could ever replace the naturalness of a mans warm stiff tool.

I turned, still in his arms and sought the soft caress of his lips on mine, letting his tongue probe my mouth. Our saliva mixed, leaving trails of spittle that momentarily linked our eager lips as I broke away and slid down his body.

Johns belt buckle opened easily and I dropped his clothing to feast my eyes on his long solid member as it bounced freely.

“Oh my.”

I whispered approvingly as the corners of my mouth turned upwards in an involuntary reflex of satisfaction.

I carefully placing my lips over his crown, hearing him gasp as I felt the twitching kickback of his cock in my mouth.

John entwined his fingers into my hair, guiding rather than pushing my head forwards. I slid all the way down his shaft, feeling with delight every ridge and vein. Then back up where I purposefully rubbed his rolled back foreskin knowing it would excite him.

“Fuck. Thats good.” He said above me.

It bloody well should be. I’d had plenty of practice on hundreds of nameless men in nondescript hotel rooms over the years. People would call me names and profess horror at my activities if they knew. But I felt no shame. I didn’t want the anchor of a husband, or the restriction of children. I wanted to fuck for enjoyment and nothing else.

Again I felt his cock jumping, becoming ever more rigid in its hardness. I run my tongue around his crown, delighting in its smoothness and warmth. I teased at his tiny slit before beginning my relentless wank of his cock with my mouth. My hands reached up the insides of his thighs, letting my fingers drag over his sensitive flesh, exciting erogenous zones and sought out his ball bag.

It squished between teasing fingers, ovoids rolling inside the gelatinous sack. it felt warm, not as hot as his cock, but pleasant to the touch. I loved the feel of a crinkled bag in my hand, taking enjoyment from gently squeezing and tugging a mans most sensitive tender parts. In that moment I had power. The power to chose between giving great pleasure or great pain. Obviously I always chose the former.

“Ah. Thats fucking fantastic.

Don’t stop.”

He had no worries on that account. I loved his taste. I loved his texture. I loved his smell. Manly. And it was awakening my own sex with panties dampening from my leaking juices. A pussy heating, desperate to be filled and fucked to oblivion. I wanted to be pounded, to have my tits squeezed and my clit tortured until it sent its tingling sensations across my sweaty skin.

But not yet. First I wanted to savour his flavour, to satisfy my craving. Too and fro along his rock hard meat I worked my lips, feeling the texture of his flesh with my tongue, sensing the hotness. I felt every twitch and tremor of his tool, listened to every shudder of his breathing.

My face was beginning to ache when finally his knees gave a shudder and with a few pumps of his hips, warm creamy cum flooded into my mouth.

“Ah, fuck.” He gasped in relief.

His juice invaded every crevice as I continued for a few moments, coating him with his own saline tinted fluid. I had to admit a love for the taste of a man’s cum. It wasn’t to everyones taste, but I adored escort it as much as being fucked. I had a need to cover my tastebuds in that musky seed. A salty viscous fluid that rolled as one over my tongue.

Finally I let him go and sat back on my calfs. I could see him staring down at me with the satisfaction of having cum written across his face. I swallowed his load and smiled.

That drove him wild. He was tearing his clothes away, desperate to get naked.

“Oh Jesus Judy.

I need to do you.”


I want that fucking cock inside me.”

I whispered it as I started to remove my own clothing. The blouse hit the floor and I unclipped my bra letting full tits spring free. John stopped with just his socks to go, staring at me. His eyes studying the mounds he’d so recently caressed through material.

I let him feast his eyes for a moment, proud of my enticing flesh. Large, but no so that they drooped. Indeed they remained surprisingly firm as I rushed towards forty. I glanced downwards, indicating with a nod.

“I don’t do socks.”


I stood and let my skirt fall away before pulling down tights that slid easily over silky smooth thighs. Then only in panties I stood and admired his body.

It was lithe, slender but toned with only a hint of a belly from too much sitting at desks.

John moved towards me, hooking the sides of my panties and gave them a gentle tug upwards. I gasped as the material cut into my slit and arse crack, rubbing sharply against a swollen clit. A quiver raced up my torso like tiny electric shocks and I shuddered on weakening knees.

“Wrong way.” I grinned before planting my lips on his again.

I felt his hands push my final garment downwards and I closed my knees tightly just long enough to leg it slip to the floor. Then his palms glided up my hips, over my waist, upwards until he was stroking my tits. Warm, well cared for hands gliding over my under-boob and up their sides before rubbing across throbbing perky nipples.

“Squeeze them.” I muttered through shaking breaths.

Fingers gripped my flesh, pinching my hard nips. Welcome pain masked and alleviated the dull ache that had engulfed them.


Lower down his still hard cock slipped between my thighs, rubbing along my slit. I clamped my legs around it as though I could push it into my tunnel and fuck him where he stood. I felt weak at his touch and my pussy cried out for stimulation.

A moment or two later I moved to the bed and lay back with my legs wide.

“Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful.”

He went down on me and my back arched as his tongue parted delicate folds of flesh and sought my hot pleasure button. An arm lifted my right leg high, opening me wider to his attack. I threw my head and arms back, pushing my sex into his face.

“Oh yes.” I cried. My voice shaking.

“Lick it.


Lick it hard.”

He did just that. A rough tongue traversing back and forth over my throbbing nub. Driving me senseless as its tendrils of lust tore up through my belly, turning my stomach inside out. Johns fingers joined the onslaught, finding the entrance to my love tunnel. First one, then two, pressing in with a squelch. I wriggled as his digits massaged me from inside with a practiced expertise. Pushing deep before curling up and pulling back with the pressure of fingertips on my virginal walls.

He was good. Just enough to teeter me on the edge. Just too little to tip me over. I hovered at the point of orgasm. Pressure and burning heat swamping my pussy as juices ran freely, soaking his lips and chin.


I couldn’t take any more and I pushed him away quickly before I came. I rolled away, and as he followed I pushed him to the bed before reaching out to grab my bag up.


I fumbled until I found a condom and ripping the packet I passed it to him. I always hated this part. It was rare but occasionally I’d had to leave frustrated and disappointed when a man had refused. But it was a rule I wouldn’t break.

John didn’t question, instead rolling it down the length of his shaft without a murmur.

Satisfied I climbed over him with a leg either side and my dripping wet flower just over his hard cock. I put my hands on his chest and lowered myself onto his shaft as our eyes held each others gaze. It pressed at my entrance as John reached down guiding it through parting labia, holding his own cock until it slipped inside me.


I was sodden, my entire tunnel kağıthane eskort lubricated. His cock slid easily, filling me to my depth until finally I sat across his hips. It felt so good. Like it should be a natural state.

John reached up and cupped my tits as he wriggled beneath me at the bequest of his throbbing member.

I started a rhythmic fuck, slowly at first, savouring the feeling of his cock rubbing up and down the length of my hole. Open fingers held my tits letting them gently bounce in his hands. My head fell back and long dark hair cascaded onto my shoulders. I felt delirious. My heart was already pounding, threatening to burst out of my ribcage in a bid for freedom.

“Do it.” He whispered.

“Do it. Fuck my cock.”

I didn’t need asking. My movement was becoming desperate, driven by a primal demand. Faster and faster as the sound of slapping flesh echoed in my ears. Heat and pressure climbed in my groin, driving my straining thigh muscles to work harder.

“Ah. Ah. Ah.” I gasped with each frantic stroke.


I tumbled into oblivion, jerking and twisting like a demented soul as a tsunami of pleasure swept over me. My rhythm became erratic as I came but just enough of my mind remained in that instant to register the increased throb and twitch of his meat.

Another load of his seed swelled the tip of the condom inside me. A spot of deep warmth that sent yet another wave of pleasure surging up my spine.

I fell forward with my face on the pillow just over his shoulder. Rapid breaths and a thumping heart sounded like an approaching army in my ears as I gasped to feed a fatigued body. I felt relieved. Relaxed in a way that only a real man, a real fuck could achieve. Toys and fingers eased my needs most of the time, but only the real thing could reach this deep physically and spiritually.

As I lay there exhausted for the moment, I could feel his heart beating against my breast along with the rise and fall of his chest. A hand softly caressed my shoulder like a lover should.

He felt warm and comforting and for just a second or two I understood what my lifestyle had cost me. But then I thought of the things it brought. Freedom, a career, and the opportunity to do as I wished without answering to anyone.

I swallowed back the spittle filling my mouth and sat myself up where I could look back at tonights conquest. He still looked good, the kind of man that I might be happy to come home to. But as he focused his vision back towards me I felt the need to escape.

“Thank you.” I said warmly.

“It was good.”

And with that I clambered to my feet and hunted for my discarded clothing.

“You can stay here the night if you want.”

I pulled my skirt up over bare legs, not bothering with tights and panties.

“Thanks. But I have an early start. Best I go back to my room.”

“Okay. No worries.”

He propped himself up on an elbow watching as I buttoned my blouse. The rest of my garments I hooked over my arm and covered them with the jacket. It wouldn’t be a good look to walk through the hotel with my bra in full view.

“Just to say. That was probably one of the best fucks I’ve had in a hotel.”

I stood and looked at him for a moment. I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear him confirm that he was just the same as me. A hunter who utilised willing others to satisfy his most basic desires. So many of the men I fucked, married or otherwise, did just that. But it was rare to hear one voice it. To hear the honesty of it just being sex. Fucking to meet a need. Now it was over and there was no need to be together.

I nodded my understanding and appreciation before letting myself out.

My room was on the same floor a corridor away and thankfully I saw no one on the way back. Dishevelled, with my face glistening in sweat and tits bouncing freely under thin material would have left anyone who might have seen me in no doubt of the activities I’d just completed. Not that the judgement of strangers was of any concern to me.

In a few hours, refreshed by sleep and a shower I would be in my office with people who probably assumed I lived a frigid life. People who would be aghast at what I really got up to out of their sight.

For another few weeks I’d satisfied my urges, scratched that itch. In a month or so’s time business would take me somewhere else and another cock would be filling my mouth and pussy. A new body to explore, a different technique to experience and a whole new moment of excitement to bring me to climax. That was what I craved, what gave me the buzz.

The thought of going home to the same man every night, going through the motions in the same boring fashion just didn’t appeal to me. I wouldn’t want to swap my life for the world.

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