What is "scratchy"

Usage examples of "scratchy".

The air was hot and unmoving, not leavened by even the hint of a breeze, and the only sounds on this still afternoon were the scratchy scuttlings of lizards in the underbrush abutting the road, the chirrups of unseen cicadas, and the occasional far-off rumbling of truck engines as Corban pickups headed on or off the highway.

The grendel still remained out of sight farther up the maze of passages, but the buzz of its echolocation filled the back of her head with a fuzzy, scratchy feeling.

Reporter Glick was apparently reporting by phone, the connection scratchy.

The smooth linen of his shirtfront was cool against the heated glow of my greased breasts, and while the wool of his kilt was much scratchier against my naked thighs and belly, the sensation was by no means unpleasant.

It was a year before he found anything worth spitting at, and even that was only a scratchy handful of lepidolite, lithium ore.

In the dressing room, Mimi helped me out of my gown and into a new lace-trimmed chemise, which was lovely, although scratchy.

She loved men, she decided, every muscly, hairy, scratchy bit of them.

Tyler felt the rough material of his jeans brushing against her bare legs, pleasurably scratchy, and wondered vaguely if the ruana had ridden up to her waist the way it felt as if it had.

What pleases me in your playing is that you are able to produce smooth and sweet notes: the scrapy, scratchy period with you has apparently been short.

But the humans had the slidy itch, and the scratchy itch, and the prickly or tingly or titillative paraesthetic fornication.

The clothes were extremely plain, without the tiniest frill or ornament, but the fabrics looked soft and serviceable and would be eminently warmer and more comfortable than the scratchy shirt and trousers of her sansculotte outfit.

If it was at all possible, the rough dress and blouse was even coarser and scratchier than her sansculotte outfit.

He pressed his scratchy jaw into the red silk of her hair, longing to unbraid the rippling locks and spread them over his own chest and throat.

She lay for a while, her face still buried in the fur of the bedcover, too stiff and dazed to move, feeling its rancid hair scratchy against her mouth and nose, then at last she managed to raise herselfa little and try to turn over.

I lived, the third in the terrace along Brickyard Row, with a steep drop through scratchy copses of birch into lowtown and with many other Rows and Backs and Ways slanting up Coney Mound behind, had stood for most of the Third Age of Industry by the time my parents moved in.