Scratching, as a sexual marking activity, is something I have mixed feelings about.

As a general rule, I’m not into intentionally leaving marks on my partners (except when I am) and I’m not particularly keen on the ‘ownership’ aspects often associated with marking a partner.  There are specific circumstances, however, in which I am prone to slightly…animalistic…behaviors, that _can_ lead to {1} my partner wearing my marks, and/or {2} me wearing marks (often of my own making) and savoring their bruising aftermath.  In those instances, it’s fairly rare that those marks are scratches.

When scratches do occur, they are typically either {a} acquired accidentally/incidentally, and/or {b} of the unintentional Woops, I didn’t mean to dig my nails into your shoulder so hard while I was cumming variety.

And to be clear:  *I’m* the one doing the scratching in those circumstances.  I have ZERO TOLERANCE for being on the receiving end of marking scratches.  It’s essentially a hard limit for me.  My fair skin scars easily and my tender bits prefer pleasure to pain.

All explanatory caveats aside…

The act of scratching – not of marking, but of scratching – is, I suppose, _kind of_ My Thing™.

• Raking my nails across the back of his neck to get his attention before grabbing a fistful of hair?  Check.
• Scratching gently across freshly spanked pink flesh to test his response?  Yes.
• Barely brushing the tips of my nails over the head of his swollen sensitized cock?  Mmmhmmm…
• Spelling out messages with soft scrapes of letter shapes on his back?  Definitely.

But my most preferred method of scratching is much more ‘comfort’ than ‘kink’ and I’ll gladly be on the receiving end of that particular pleasure.

It’s a soothing graze over an unsettling itch.  An uninjurious erasure of an end-of-day tingling tickle.  Scratch me like that, and I am all cat, arching and purring with 300 kinds of contentment.

And if you do it juuuuuust right…

I’m not opposed to a bit of quid pro quo.

I scratch your back…

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