Scratching the Itch
"Scratching the Itch" © Sapphire, January 2, 2005
f/f - Skunk/Feline - cuddling, fingering, adorable.
All rights reserved. No portion of this story may be copied, either electronically or reprographically without express written consent of the author.
The first draft of this story was completed on November 26, 2004 as a residual of the Nanowrimo project.
Realistically, I knew that it wasn't that cold, but a chill had gotten to me so that there was no amount of comforters and blankets that would be enough even with my liberal fluffing of fur. I shivered and huddled under the pile, leaving only the top of my head and tailtip exposed. When I shifted my weight, I must have let out a mewling sound or something to capture the attention of my studying girlfriend.
She whiffled her massive plume of a skunk's tail against my face defiantly. Just out of the dryer, the ebony mass was warm and enticing, making me jealous of her more cold-adapted nature. "I swear, for having such thick, plush fur, you sure are cold all the time. You'd think that we lived in a storage freezer, looking at you," she mused.
"Just this time of the year. We need to move to the jungle where it never gets into sheet weather, much less blanket weather." I was downright petulant as she laughed at me in that silken skunk's alto voice. It was hard to feign irritation with those blue eyes watching me and the sweet drawl of her voice comforting me.
She was still giggling, "You say that every year! We're as south as we can be without having to speak lapine, and it's not that cold outside! A fur coat and a long sleeved shirt should be enough to take care of the chill, not the entire fur production of the Lamb's Revolution!" The skunk made the most adorable face as she reached underneath her own thin blanket to scritch at herself.
"Grr... damn that camping trip," she muttered to herself while she gyrated her body about. We had long since passed the point where we were afraid to scratch ourselves or pass gas in front of one another, but we were still polite and apologetic when it happened. "you'd think that whatever weed that was would have given up by now." She wiggled to her paw, gasping when she pushed into it. I knew that even though it itched, there was still some pleasure to be had from the satisfaction.
"If you keep doing that, the itch will never go away." I murmured, leaving over to her to carefully put the book that she had to the side. My fingers wandered their way down to where her paw had nested, lightly tugging it away. She relinquished the hold that she had on her sensitive areas, allowing me to massage with my pads, rather than my claws.
I brought myself closer to her, wrapping my left paw around her breasts under the sheet, finding the t-shirt that she was wearing to be easily liftable. "It itches now though! I have to scratch it!" She insisted this as she shimmied her awfully warm body back toward mine. Her tail fell to my left side, blocking any view that I might have had of the rest of the room.
My own tail slithered at our right side, lashing and finally resting on her bare upper thigh. She was wearing a loose fitting pair of black shorts that offered easy access to her sex and the offensive itching. Some of her thighfur was rubbed raw from the effort, but there were more urgent matters to attend to under those sheets. "Mmm... here, let me scratch your itch for you. All you have to do is keep me warm."
I dragged her closer to me, so her back was against my breasts. My head propped carefully on her right shoulder where I could groom at her neck with relative ease. She turned slightly, "you just want an excuse to paw at my... mph... pussy. I know how you cats work. Lull a girl into submission with promises of scratching her and then wham! Fingers on the labia..." Her voice drifted off as indeed, my finger was coming very close to that.
"Who wouldn't want to get the chance to paw at your pussy, darling? I mean, it's soft, moist, well taken care of, and it's close to an itch that I want to help with. If you'd like, I can go get the salve from the bathroom, or that toy..." I rumbled into her ear, loving the way that she shifted uneasily. That toy was the stuff that legends were made of... it erased all conception of itches, thought, and perhaps existence with its never waning power supply.
Her white paws rose as she shuddered from the very notion of that heavenly toy. "Way too strong. Don't want to be knocked out..." the nuzzling she gave my cheek was erratic as I held her close to me, lifting my paw just along her chestruff. "And I don't need the salve right now... too comfortable." That soothing, horny murr gave me quite a bit of encouragement.
I nestled my nose at her collar and tender neck, carefully nipping her as she tried the 'help' me with the scratching that I was doing. A lot of the itches were located on the very upper inner thigh, not on her pussy at all, so I took it as my sole responsibility and duty to make my sweet Camille not think about it at all. I batted her hand away, content to make her squirm by moving my paw around her mons. "Knocking out is the furthest thing from my mind right now," I rasped.
The skunk's legs fell apart more while I searched at the heart of her shorts, massaging and pushing at her pubic bone. The way she squirmed her back against me was warming me up - too much more of the sexy mephit and I'd have to ditch all the covers entirely. As it stood, there were more than a couple of blankets that had found their way onto the sparsely carpeted floor. She canted her head to huskily moan into my cheek.
My paw, despite the looseness of her shorts, was at quite the wrong angle not to get tied up in the material of her shorts. Camille could see this and feel this, her arousal having grown to the point where she was after any contact that she could get. I was purring into her ear while she pulled her knees together to tug and yank at the shorts, dragging them down after lifting her ass up just enough. Her tail swept by my face in the process while she cooed. "Ohhhh..." I was only vaguely aware of the black material falling to the floor.
My index finger dabbled below her clit in the sweet skunkie flesh, shimmying its way from side to side while spreading her out. The poor girl was hot and moaning, putty in my paws while she bucked. I explored her from top to bottom, intentionally teasing her with feathery caresses in the beginning, pretending I didn't know as much as I did about her wonderfully sexy body.
Her dark knees lifted, making the covers we were under bunch up around her crotch, allowing a smidgen of the cool air in the room to reach those sweet areas. That only served to inflame the both of us. I tapped all the way around her sex before finally hooking my middle finger inside of her, rotating to find one of the delicious spots inside. I knew that I wasn't directly taking care of the real itches, but somehow that didn't matter.
The mewling was growing louder and louder. I have to admit that I was enjoying pleasing her just as much as she was getting in to the carefully targeted touches upon her. When she moved, I was able to better massage her, the palm of my paw squelching lewdly into her clitoris and pubic bone just as it had done from the outset. This time, though, I was able to weasel two fingers shallowly into her moisture - making the very pitch of her voice rise.
"Kitty kitty!" She kept rocking, and the distant squeak of the old couch made me lose track for barely a moment. I held her close, pinching and tugging at her nipples just the way she liked it. My skunkie adored receiving the barest moments of pain while she was aroused. She said that it broke through the fog and enchanted her. My hand circled further to allow me to dig deeper into her velvety soft puss, making her squeal.
She grunted, the tenor of her voice having changed dramatically from her barely alto lovey dovey tone into a lower, husky vibrato that was dropping with her own desires. I kept at her with the two digits, afforded better angles each time she heaved against me. My skunk had started to thrash, and my paws starting to ache, but I was determined, nay, bound to see her pleasure through to its logical conclusion.
My paw moved frantically, squelching deeply inside of her desire. Her paws clenched over mine, mirroring the actions, but not interfering. She let out a series of cute squeaks, bucking eagerly and cumming around my hand. With rising temperature, she held me in a death grip of ecstasy, the honeys flooding my fingers and the couch beneath. I kept the ravishing pace up until my lower paw was lightly pushed away, the moment of need having passed.
She lolled her head contentedly onto my shoulder when she relaxed I kept stroking her contentedly along various areas of her black and white fur, content to cuddle with her just as delightedly as she was doing with me. Suddenly, she made a noise, reaching to scratch along her inner thigh while I did my very best to bat her paw away. I growled at her into her rounded ear again, but she took no heed as I simultaneously moved to scratch her real itch.
"Ohh... kitty... you can scratch my itches any time," she gasped while lightly kissing me.
"Mmm..." I was a bit tired, but at least I was warm with my skunk while we cuddled. "I'll keep that in mind."