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Not Your Average Girl

Category: Fetish
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Becky was deeply dissatisfied. It would have been hard for most to imagine that the lithe and very pretty undergraduate could have been hiding such morose sentiments; what with her well known wealth, intelligence, and good looks on the surface her life was ideal. Yet, despite widespread academic acclaim, a more-than-passing resemblance to Mary-Louise Parker, and a voracious sex life she could not shake off the feeling of an aching chasm within her, a driving and compelling need.

This morning though, she put aside such feelings and prepared for the day. Often described as sexy and sultry, she could never be described as veering into the territory of the bimbo. Looking out of her top-floor window to see a cloudless sky she decided to dress simply in white cotton panties and a yellow summer dress with matching flip-flops. Perhaps considered improper by some of her more stuffy colleagues her outfit was hardly indecent. Collecting up a couple of books – Murakami and Asimov if you must know – and grabbing a folder containing her students’ marked essays, Becky headed down out of her flat and towards the entrance to the underground only a couple of minutes down the road.

Living near one of the busiest routes into London Becky as usual found herself crushed in a mass of human flesh; the sweaty and irritated commuters jostling for space as they suffered the cramped and stuffy ride into town. Becky, however, was perhaps the only girl in London who enjoyed these journeys. She loved the sweaty smells of unwashed and overheated bodies, savoured the sight of beads of sweat on men and women’s faces, and the loved the feel of hot bodies crushing into her. Today was busier than most and she felt herself crushed into the chest of a big brawny man with curly brown hair and a square jaw. Becky didn’t find the man particularly attractive but his sweaty smell was enticing and she furtively used the jostling of the carriage to mask her movements as she leaned towards his armpits and took silent sniffs. She felt her pussy began to moisten and could smell her own sweat as pheromones marked her arousal.

She looked up to make sure the man was unaware of her dirty actions but was met by piercing brown eyes and an aggressive leer. She felt embarrassed to the core. As she was gathering her wits deciding whether to pretend indifference or make some excuse for her actions she felt a rough hand reach up under her summer dress. Fingers began manipulating the fabric of her soaking panties and looking around she saw that not only had the man’s expression remained exactly the same but there was no else who could be aware of his actions – all were too wrapped up in their own discomforts. Becky decided to see how events might continue, after all not only had she been caught sniffing the man’s armpits but she was obviously extremely aroused. His ministrations were perhaps the only proper response her sluttish and filthy behaviour.

The rubbing continued for several minutes until she felt a finger pull back the sides of her soaking panties and quickly enter her sopping pussy. She was grateful to the creaking of the train and the general commotion for allowing her gasp of joint pleasure and surprise to go unnoticed. She expected a quick finger fuck and was taken by complete surprise when the man used his left hand to pull her head on to his chest and removed his right from her pussy and instead inserted a well-lubricated finger up her tight arse. Becky was in complete heaven; just inches from his armpit she was getting the full force of his sweaty pheromones leading her back passage to spasm on his rough finger. The action continued for some minutes; Becky taking more and more frantic whiffs of his stink while the man roughly fingered her toward an orgasm. She felt the train begin to slow down as it approached her destination and so was disappointed when the man suddenly removed his finger. Looking up at him to protest she suddenly found his glistening finger under her nose. The intoxicating and earthy smell combined with the aura of sweat drove her over the edge and she found her legs go weak as her pussy spasmed in orgasm and she felt her thighs get wet as small squirts erupted. As the train stopped and people began to shuffle towards the exit the man wiped his finger on her forehead and turning his back on her marched off into the crowd on the platform.

Five minutes later Becky was in the grimy underground toilets. She had taken an early train in so had plenty of time to get to the university and in any case she needed to wipe her face and clean up her messy vagina. Her panties were ruined and she unconsciously put them into her mouth to suck while she proceeded to wipe as much of the girlcum away as possible. When she was clean the full realisation of what had happened hit her and she burst into sobs. She sat there panties in mouth, shaking with tears as she tried to make sense of where it all went wrong. She was sick and perverted and disgusting she knew but that didn’t mean she lacked dignity; her filthy fetishes might signal that she was submissive or into humiliation but that was far from the case. She wanted someone who would love and cherish her, but her cravings simply seemed to get her into situations where she was used and discarded. These encounters were stimulating and satisfying but ultimately unfulfilling.

Wiping her eyes and taking stock of her surroundings the sight of an eye peering through a hole in the cubicle wall immediately jerked her out of her melancholic mood; she became acutely aware of her hand under her pulled-up dress and the obviously soiled panties in her mouth. The eye blinked once and an obviously rustic accent asked “Is you alright?” Becky thought she could catch faint overtones of both sympathy and lust.

“Errr… I’m fine” replied Becky hastily removing her sodden undergarments from her mouth. She was on the verge of angrily telling the other person to go away but feeling the familiar sensation of her nipples stiffening her earlier anxieties were forgotten and she longed for a woman’s touch in the dirty toilets.

“You need any help?” the voice asked, seemingly emboldened by Becky’s lack of modesty. Adopting her best little girl’s voice she replied “Actually Miss, if you could lend an … errr… hand I’d be most grateful”. The eye disappeared from the hole and a knock came on the cubicle door. Becky let the eager stranger in and sat back to study the peeping Jane.

If Becky was elegant in her sexiness, this woman was the absolute opposite. She wore pink flip flops, a tiny pink skirt which did nothing to hide her most private of areas and a white vest top which clung to her large and braless breasts. Her face was layered in mascara, blusher and lipstick and she had large gold hoop earrings. Becky was far from a snob but even she couldn’t stop the phrase chav slut popping up in her head. However, the woman had two distinct features which captured the vile girl’s attention before all others. The first was her large and erect nipples which made prominent protuberances on her clinging top. Even more delightful to Becky’s eyes were the obviously moist clumps of blond fuzz emerging from her armpits.

The woman watched as Becky’s eyes flicked from armpits to nipples and then back to armpits. Her manner suddenly became assertive as she acknowledged the depravity of the beautiful petite vixen before her. For her part Becky realised that the woman’s smile had become more aggressive and feline and she knew what was likely to transpire. However, she cared for little; for while she might in her more introspective moments feel the deep need for companionship, she was still a wanton slut, a slave to her many fetishes and needs.

“So, how can I help?” the woman teasingly asked. “In fact, more to the point, how can you help me?”

Unable to take her eyes from the beautiful tufts at the woman’s armpits Becky replied “What would you like me to do?”

“Well I got this pretty kinky fetish and you look like the kinda girl that would indulge me” the blonde bimbo leered. “I gets off on muff diving and fingering and all that but what I really likes, beyond anything else, is to have my nipples licked with a buttplug in my arse”. She caught the look of undisguised eagerness on Becky’s face and continued, hoping that this girl would be freaky enough to indulge her other fantasy. “What I also like too is for pretty posh bitches to lick my sweaty armpits and chew on my overgrown tufts. How does that sound?”

Becky knew the girl had sussed her from the moment she had looked through the peephole, had recognised the vile acts of which she was capable. This being the case she decided for honesty, after all how could she lie to the torrent of juices which had erupted from her pussy at the chav slut’s words? “Great” was all she said as she pulled the woman towards her who was already pulling her sweaty vest top over her pig-tailed head. Her skin was covered in a sweaty sheen and Becky shuddered as she was hit by the chav girl’s sweaty unwashed smell. The chav, who now announced herself as Chantelle, straddled Becky’s bare lap, pushing her moist plump bottom against Becky’s quivering thighs and pushing her wet pussy into Becky’s midriff. Becky felt an unexpected hardness against her knees but dismissed the thought as Chantelle briefly kissed her before turning her body to press her armpit against Becky’s eager mouth.

Immediately tremors began in Becky’s pussy as the sweaty, nasty odour assaulted her nostrils. Chantelle smelled of bad hygiene, cheap perfume and, faintly, of grease but Becky was in heaven. “Come on lick my pits” she cried, “munch my arm muff, gobble my sweat box. Get your pretty little daddy’s girl mouth in my chavvy sweat pit and taste the true stench of the unwashed masses”. Becky could only make little high-pitched orgasmic noises as she dived in to the mass of sweaty hair and flesh. She licked and sucked with wild abandon, trying to get every drop of sweat. Soon she was fellating Chantelle’s rank armpit hair, bobbing up and down on the disgusting mass. Her nose and mouth itched from the hairs but Becky couldn’t care less, her pussy spasming as she succumbed to a wave of orgasms. Chantelle laughed, lustily and nastily, as she suddenly grabbed Becky’s hair, pulling the pretty little tart into her armpit and smothering her with her sweaty flesh and hair. As the seconds went by Becky was only faintly worried by her lack of oxygen, more important to her was the sheer filthy bliss of her treatment; Chantelle’s beautiful sweat was seeping into every pore in her face and at that moment she could have died absolutely contented.

Chantelle had other plans. Initially shocked and then lust-crazed by the actions of the pretty wanton slut she keenly felt her own need for release. “Time for the next part” she announced pulling Becky’s red, sweat-covered, and madly-lustful face from her pits. “Time for you to suck my nipples as I orgasm on a buttplug”. Becky sat gasping, regaining her breath and looking ecstatic at the opportunity to play with the chav slut’s huge and erect nipples. However, aware that Chantelle had come in empty handed and wearing very little that might hide the means to her orgasm she asked “But where is the buttplug?”

Chantelle smiled at the tart who had pleasured her so well so far. “It’s already in silly. I never leave home without a buttplug in my tight chav arse. In fact, I only take it out when I sleep – although often I forget”. Becky could no longer be shocked by anything the slutty chav said or did any more. “In that case then, I’ll get started right away”. She closed her lips over the chav’s stiff nipples and began to moan as she nibbled the sweaty nubs. Yet, if Becky was moaning Chantelle was howling as she felt her arse and pussy begin to spasm as her orgasm crept up on her. It was like a switch; if her arse was stuffed and her nipples stimulated she would always cum. Becky continued her ministrations and Chantelle began to cry out “harder, harder, bite me, make me cum” as she roughly forced the pretty brunette’s head against her sweaty chest. Suddenly the strongest orgasm she had ever known hit her and her legs went weak as she ejaculated into Becky’s midriff, wave after wave of girlcum soaking the young slut.

A few minutes later she stood up and put her top back on, kissed Becky on the lips, whispered “Bye slut” and left the cubicle. It took Becky 15 minutes to make herself presentable, leaving the grimy toilets with a sigh – half the sound of a satisfied slutfreak and half the sound of an emotionally frustrated young woman.

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