Timestop: The Train Ride Chapter 3

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DISCLAIMERS

In this series, I write from the perspective of the VILLAIN. That means I don’t agree with his choices, and you’re not supposed to either. We’re all acknowledging he is evil and wrong. Obviously nothing he does should ever be done in real life! Please be mature adults and separate fantasy from reality. This SHOULD evoke visceral, icky feelings. That’s the POINT. This is HORROR.

This is more PORN than PLOT.

All characters are 18+.This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to events, locales, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

KINKS / WARNINGS

-Gross and creepy sniffing / tasting (armpits, sweat, bodily fluids, everything)

-NC / sadism / violence

-Armpit fetish

-Biting / bit of blood

-Queefing



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CHAPTER 3

A bit later, I still lay there admiring the mess next to me, she’s sweaty underneath expensive white sweater. “How did I not get you out of that yet?” I guess I was too hasty, rushing straight into things and forgetting to really explore her entire body.

I cuddle up next to her, resting my head in the crook of her shoulder, her armpit. Her arm outstretched underneath me like a pillow. I feel her up, over her sweater, then reach my hand under the bottom of it, finding a simple light gray shirt. My hand feels under that to gently caress her warm smooth stomach underneath. She’s thin, in good shape, but doesn’t seem to work out much, not really firm or toned. Just naturally like this. Given beauty, given everything in her life.

I slide my hand under her sweater and shirt, feeling more skin underneath, sticky with sweat, warmth enveloping my forearm. I reach bra, or maybe a sports bra? No wires, soft, squishy. Seems more for comfort than anything. Holding her tits in place lightly. And there’s not a whole lot to hold, she’s fairly small-chested. “Finally something about you that isn’t so great”. But she seems to have enough for a small handful. I feel around, squishing, the size not mattering much, she feels so sexy.

My head still resting on her outstretched arm, I turn my head and face her open armpit, everything still modestly covered by her thin sweater. Still groping her tits under her clothing, I stick my nose in her armpit and inhale deeply. Her same delicious vanilla scent she wears, mixed with a hint of sour sweat. Just enough of a bad smell to break her perfection, to make her natural and womanly, to make it feel wrong. I nuzzle my face here for a while, feeling up her tits and sweaty belly and chest, one of my legs over her thigh, my dick starting to harden and poke her bare leg.

I push the bottom of her fancy white sweater up, revealing a simple tight, light gray tank top. Lifting that too, I touch more and more of her bare belly, then her bra. It’s some sort of white designer sports bra, or a “bralette” I think they’re called, just loosely holding everything in place, comfy and light, no cups or wires or snaps, an elastic band running around the bottom of it. Somehow it’s sexier than a fancy bra, a girl wearing such simple comfort, “roughing it” a bit on a train.

I sit up and kneel straddling her stomach. I keep pulling her white sweater up, lifting her arms and head aggressively through it. I leave it inside out on her head alone, white fabric covering her entire head from the chin up. I let go and she flops back down, arms outstretched up over her head. The light gray tank top is tight, thin. I feel up her curves and the shape of her tits, then grab the neckline of the shirt with both hands and start savagely tearing it right down the center. It’s a thin, delicate undershirt, so satisfying to ruin. Her body shakes around as I rip and rip at it, leaving it in shreds hanging loosely off her body. revealing more bare skin and a black bra beneath.

Her black bra so cute and simple, small mounds beneath. Her collarbone, chest, and stomach somewhat damp and glistening with sweat.