• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Incest/Taboo
  • /
  • An Itch You Can't Scratch

An Itch You Can't Scratch

123

"And this will do the trick?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, absolutely," replied the wizened old lady.

Lamia Lightbringer was the town's "witch." Not a real witch, of course. Nobody believes in that kind of crap for real, and that wasn't even her real name. I found out years ago her actual name was "Gertrude Sommerstein," but I wouldn't be caught dead letting her know I knew that. She was the sole proprietor of the "Wytches Workshoppe," a run-down, shabby store selling all kinds of tinctures and potions. Everything from homemade medicine to all-natural hair dyes.

Of course, that's not what she was famous for. At our school, she was famous for creating the very best stink bombs and itching powder. The latter was what I was there for, that day. Since I had recently turned eighteen, and was in my senior year of highschool, this April Fool's was likely the last one I'd spend at home, and I was determined to pay back Dad for all the years he managed to best me.

"How much is it?" I asked, holding the little packet between my fingers.

"Thirty."

"Thirty bucks?" That was far too much to pay for a one time prank, and I wouldn't have paid that much even if I had enough cash—which I didn't.

"Yes."

"That's way too much!"

"Take it or leave it, child."

"Don't you have anything cheaper?"

Ms. Lightbringer looked at me, head askew, in all her wrinkly glory. Nobody knew how old she actually was. As long as I've been alive, she was always just there, as old as she is now.

"Something, something, sure," she said after a while. "It's not the same but it's close."

"Like what?"

"A new recipe, child. It's my own, all of it."

"And it makes people itch?" You had to get used to her way of talking. She was odd, and so you always had to make sure to clarify things.

"I suppose it does. Gives someone an itch, sure."

The old lady was definitely batshit insane, but when it comes to the matter of her products, everyone knew they were reliable. They worked exactly as advertised, not more, not less. It was probably reasonably safe. At least, I didn't think she'd push something she knew was harmful. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.

"Is it dangerous?" I asked, anyway. Just to be sure.

Ms. Lightbringer giggled, and said, "No, no, it won't hurt."

"How much is it?"

"Five. And a story."

"A story? What do you mean?"

"Tell me how it works. How it feels."

"Uh, sure." I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, and retrieved a five dollar bill. "Here," I said, placing the note on the counter.

Ms. Lightbringer turned around, and pulled several small jars out of the giant cupboard. With her back to me, she was blocking my view of what she was doing. All I could gather was that it involved several of the jars, a metal bowl, and a flame. The air in the small shop was already bad enough, filled with dozens of dissonant scents, that I started to feel light headed. I was eager to get out of there, and when she finally presented me with a small glass container holding some sort of cream, I didn't want to prolong my stay.

"Thanks," I said, accepting the offering.

"Don't forget the story," she reminded me.

"I won't," I promised absentmindedly, already halfway out of the building. As soon as I stepped through the door, I took a deep breath of refreshing April air, and got in my car.

***

Dad worked as a data analyst in a big office, and always complained about having to sit in a chair all day. To counteract his sedentary job, he would jog around the neighborhood for half an hour every day, as soon as he got home, almost like clockwork. Today, I counted on it.

In my parents' bathroom, I pulled the small glass jar out of my pocket, and inspected the contents. Originally, I had planned to spread the powder out over a dry towel, and then place it ontop of the stack, but that wouldn't really be doable with a cream. If Dad noticed a wet spot on the towel, he probably wouldn't use it anymore.

I looked around the room, hoping to find something useful, when my eyes fell on the shower. It was a large, tiled shower with a glass door. Much better than mine. Inside a basket attached to the wall were a few bottles of various shower products. I rummaged through them, until I found what I was looking for: body gel. Fortunately there was only one of them, so I didn't have to worry about picking the wrong one.

I twisted off the cap, exposing the large, normally hidden, opening. Then all I had to do was get the cream in there. Ms. Lightbringer's cream wasn't flowing very well, and I had to use my finger to scoop chunks of it out of the jar, and into the plastic bottle.

After stuffing about half of it into the bottle, I wondered if it would even work, or if it was going to be washed off right away, and decided to save the rest for later. If it didn't work, I'd at least have some left over to try again. I screwed the top back on, and replaced the bottle in the basket.

Then my finger started to tingle, and I cursed myself. I should have used gloves to handle the cream. I had been so preoccupied with thoughts of my Dad itching all over his body, I didn't realize my mistake until it was too late. I turned on the tap, and carefully scrubbed my hands with soap.

Instead of helping, it only spread the problem. I felt the light prickling in both of my hands, and wanted to kick myself for being so dumb. It wasn't actually that bad of an itch, it was more like one of my hands had fallen asleep, and it was just about to wake up. At least I knew it would work in the shower, and knowing what Dad would be going through the same thing only made it sweeter.

All I had to do was wait for him to get home.

An hour later, my hands were still itching, and I couldn't concentrate on my homework at all anymore. I went into my bathroom, and tried again to scrub my hands with soap. The warm water seemed to help a bit. I lifted the little stopper, and let water fill the sink. With both my hands submerged in the tepid liquid, I felt much better.

Downstairs, the front door opened. It was too early for Dad to be home, and I wondered who it might be. Footsteps raced up the stairs, and through the open bathroom door, I saw my older sister come into view. She was already attending college, but still lived at home with the rest of us. In order to earn some extra cash on the side, she worked as a line cook in a restaurant. As far as I knew, she was pretty good at it.

Frequently, she'd come home, still dressed in stark white uniform, with leftover food she'd made. It always tasted delicious. Except that's not how she looked then. A large, red stain, too bright to be blood, covered the front of her uniform.

"Jesus, what happened to you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," she said, tersely. "What the hell are you doing?"

I looked down, and realized how silly I must look, holding both my hands in the sink. "Uh, I'm...washing my hands," I replied, lamely.

Olivia rolled her eyes at me. "Is it gonna take much longer? I really need a shower to get this mess cleaned up."

"Maybe."

"Whatever, I'll just use the other one," she said, and stalked off in the direction of my parents' bathroom.

The implication didn't dawn on me until I heard the door shut. I raced to my parents' bedroom, and knocked on the bathroom door.

"What?" came the muffled voice from inside.

"You can't use that."

The door opened a gap, and my sister's head poked out. I could just make out her bare shoulders, and realized she had already undressed.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because it's Mom and Dad's."

"So?"

"They won't like it," I said, although I knew neither of them cared about that sort of stuff. I just didn't want to tell her about my plan, she'd tell Dad right away.

"What, you gonna tell on me, baby brother?" she said derisively, laughed, and shut the door in my face.

Well, if she was acting like that, she may as well get a dose of Ms. Lightbringer's newest product. Maybe that would teach her not to be a bitch. In the bathroom, the shower turned on, and I heard the water spattering on the tiles. She must definitely be naked in there right now, about to step into the water.

The tingling in my hands intensified, and seemed to radiate warmth through my entire body. I wondered what my sister looked like at that moment, water raining down on her, running all over her fit body. I'm not a pervert or anything, but for some reason I couldn't help myself. As quietly as I could manage, I twisted the doorknob, and pushed. It wasn't locked, and I carefully opened it just a crack.

Olivia hummed quietly, but I couldn't see her just yet. I opened the door another inch, until I could make out the shower cabin. Through the glass door, I had a perfect view of her backside. Her ass was spectacular, nice and round. Clearly visible tanline. Of course, I'd seen her in a bikini before, and this was barely more, but it felt much more intimate. If only she were to turn around.

As if she had been listening to my thoughts, she shut off the water, and turned sideways to the basket, digging around in the contents. Her sideboob was magnificent. Her breasts weren't that large, maybe a B cup, but they made up for their size with perkiness.

I felt myself getting a hardon looking at her wet, nude body, and my hands reacted almost on their own, unzipping my pants. My cock was already hard, and I started softly stroking myself.

Olivia had found the spiked bottle of body gel, and squeezed some of it into her palm. She ran her hand all over chest, and I watched the lather forming on her curves with great pleasure. The fact that she'd be itching all over pretty soon only added to the excitement, and I pumped harder. Olivia spent quite some time with her hand between her legs, but I couldn't tell what she was doing. Was she playing with herself, or was that just part of her routine? It struck me as odd, but then again, I had never actually watched other people shower.

Just as she began rinsing off the suds, my penis started tingling. God damn it. I had never even considered that the damn cream would spread from my hands to my cock. My excitement evaporated almost instantaneously, and I closed the door with a faint click.

The whole situation seemed really stupid all of a sudden. I regretted buying the cream from Ms. Lightbringer, but of course it was too late now. And on top of that, I couldn't believe I had actually gotten a hardon spying on my sister in the shower. That was completely unlike my normal self.

Back in my bathroom, I pulled out my cock, already flaccid again. I couldn't see anything wrong with it. At least it wasn't turning purple or something like that. The damn cream would have to wear off at some point, I'd just have to stay calm until then.

I went into my room, and sat back down at my desk, trying to get my mind off of the situation by resuming my homework. It didn't help much, I couldn't concentrate at all. This had been such a stupid idea.

The shower turned off, and moments later Olivia walked through the hallway with a towel wrapped around herself. She moved hurriedly, not even acknowledging my existence, and disappeared in the room next to mine, closing the door behind her. Hopefully she'd be feeling the effects of the cream right about now, and I wouldn't be have to be alone with my discomfort.

After a few minutes, I heard Olivia's voice through the thin walls. What was she doing? I closed my eyes, and images of her in the shower flashed through my mind. Maybe she was lying on her bed, naked, running her hand all over her body trying to ease the itching. My cock hardened again, and it actually alleviated the prickling somewhat. The sounds coming from the next room were unmistakable now, it was definite moaning.

Curious—and horny—I crept towards my sister's bedroom door, and put my hand on the knob. Ever so slowly, I twisted it, and carefully cracked the door open. Before I saw her, I heard her moans, accompanied by wet shlicks. I opened it wider, and my eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets.

Olivia was lying on her back on top of the towel, both legs curled up. Her hands were between her legs, rapidly plunging a dildo in and out of her pussy. Her pussy! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It looked slick with wetness, her labia gripping the dildo tightly, as it slid up and down.

I stood there transfixed, unable to take my eyes off of my sister's vagina. My own erection was pressing against the front of my pants.

"What the fuck?" screamed Olivia, and I jumped. She was looking straight at me, eyes wide in shock.

Oh shit. I darted back to my room, slammed the door behind me, and locked it. I had just fucked up bad. There was no good way to explain why I had been spying on her. She'd tell Mom and Dad, and that would be the end of that. They'd probably kick me out of the house.

A loud knock on the door interrupted my train of thought.

"What?" I asked loudly.

Olivia tried to open the door. "Open the door!" she yelled.

"No," I replied. It was hopeless, though. I'd have given just about anything to be able to just disappear right then.

"Open up right now, or I'll call Mom."

I gulped. Better to hear her out now, and maybe I could avoid my parents finding out, at least. I unlocked the door, and opened it. Olivia was standing in the hallway with the towel tightly wrapped around herself, looking livid.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Derrick?"

That list seemed pretty long at the moment, but I couldn't manage to open my mouth to reply. The prickling in my hands and cock intensified, and I cursed Ms. Lightbringer for selling this crap to me.

"Well, little bro—" A shudder ran through her body, interrupting what she was about to say. She closed her eyes tightly, and absentmindedly rubbed her crotch through the towel.

"Are you ok?" I asked, concerned. She wouldn't have made a complete switch from angry to that otherwise.

Olivia opened her eyes again, and looked at me pleadingly. "No...I think something's wrong."

"What is it?"

"It's...like an itch I can't scratch."

"Like your foot fell asleep and it's just waking up?" At least that's how I felt it.

"Yeah, that's exactly how—wait a minute, how do you know?"

Shit. "Uh, I don't know."

"Tell me, right now."

"Um, it was supposed to be a prank on Dad, I swear."

"What? You did this?"

"I didn't mean to!"

"YOU DID THIS TO ME?" She rushed forward, and I raised my hands protectively, but before she took two steps, her whole body shuddered again, and she dropped to her knees, clutching her crotch.

"D-does it hurt?" I asked tentatively, and knelt down beside her to check on her.

Instead of responding, she grabbed my shoulders, and pushed me backwards. I toppled over, and fell on my back. Fortunately the carpet somewhat braced my fall. She jumped on top of me, straddling me.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up," she replied. "This is all your fault, you're gonna fix it."

"How am I su—" Olivia cut me off by leaning forward, and pressing her lips on mine. That was not something I expected, and I was slow to react at first, but she practically forced her tongue between my lips.

The towel wrapped around her body had ridden up all the way to her hips, and her wet pussy lips made contact with the bare skin of my stomach between my shirt and pants. She rocked her hips back and forth, creating a sizeable wet patch just above my groin. Her buttcheeks rubbed against my erection through my pants, and it relieved the itch far better than my own hands had.

Olivia broke the kiss, and looked straight into my eyes. "Wow, this actually helps."

"I know," I replied. My hands were still prickling, but at least my cock was getting some relief.

"You know?"

"Yeah. I, uh, got some of it on my hands. And my dick."

"Your dick? How did that happen?" She kept grinding on my stomach while she was talking, and she seemed like her normal self. It was kinda weird, to have a conversation with her in such a calm manner while her pussy was rubbing me.

"Does it matter?"

"Were you touching yourself?"

"Yeah." We clearly seemed to have broken quite a few barriers already, it seemed silly not to admit it.

"Why did you want Dad to get horny?"

"Horny?"

"Yeah. I'm incredibly fucking horny."

"It was supposed to make you itch."

"That's stupid."

"You're stupid."

"Fuck you." She hoisted herself off my stomach, and the moment she did, the uncomfortable sensation in my penis returned.

Olivia scrambled up, and took a few steps towards the door. Before she was able to walk two feet, another shudder ran through her body, and she dropped to her knees. Her towel unfortunately covered her ass and pussy, but juices seemed to coat her thighs.

"Oh god," she moaned. "It's too much."

I knew what she was talking about. The prickling kept getting stronger, and I undid my pants to try and ease the irritation. As soon as I unbuttoned my jeans, and pushed down my boxers, my erection sprang free, standing proud and tall. It looked normal, and I couldn't see any rash or other signs of my discomfort, but I definitely felt it. I gave it a few tentative pumps, but it didn't seem to help much.

Olivia was standing again, but she had turned around, and was looking at my cock with hungry eyes. "That's..." she started, but shuddered again, managing to just barely stay upright this time.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"I don't think I can control this," she replied, and walked back to where I lay on the ground. She put one foot down on each side of my hip, and from my vantage point I saw her wet pussy. Her labia were red and raw, and incredibly inviting.

Olivia knelt down, and placed the tip of my cock at the entrance to her hole, and the moment my head touched her lips, it soothed my suffering like a salve on sunburnt skin. "Holy shit that feels good," I blurted out.

"Are you gonna be less of a jerk this time?" she asked.

"I'll try," I said. I don't know if I meant it, but I'm pretty sure I would have said anything with my dick almost inside her. Olivia didn't seem to care, because almost before I replied, she slowly descended on my cock.

It felt good. Like drinking an ice cold coke on a hot summer day. Both of us let out long, drawn-out sighs of relief. She came to a rest on my hip, fully impaled on my erection.

"Oh, this is good," she sighed.

"Tell me about it."

"Where the fuck did you get this stuff anyway?"

"From the witch."

"What? Are you fucking retarded? You can't trust her."

"I thought you said something about being less of a jerk."

"Yeah, for you, not for me."

"That's not really fair."

"So? What are you gonna do?"

I thought about it, and what I wanted most at that point was to see her gorgeous body again. In a rapid motion, I raised my arms and pulled at the front of the towel. It opened easily, and fell to her sides, revealing her nude form. Up close, it was even better. She was extremely fit, and her stomach was toned, with just a hint of abs. Her breasts were small, but perky, and her dark nipple poked out. I grabbed one of them between my thumb and forefinger, and pinched.

"Fucking perv," Olivia commented.

"You're one to talk. Weren't you the one that wanted my cock inside you?"

"Only because of your stupid prank. You break it, you fix it."

"So you're saying you wouldn't enjoy me doing this?" I asked, and cupped one of her breasts with my hand, kneading it, and rubbing her hard nipple with my thumb.

"No," she said, but betrayed herself by letting out a moan.

"Liar."

"Alright, fine. You win. If we're gonna do this, let's do it right." She placed her hands on my chest, and started grinding my cock. I grabbed her buttcheeks, digging my fingers into the soft, supple flesh, assisting her movements.

123
  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Incest/Taboo
  • /
  • An Itch You Can't Scratch

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 59 milliseconds