Internude Ch. 02: Between Times

Every family has one old relative they would happily disown, and in our case it was my Uncle Nick. Even his brother - my father - distrusted him, though he felt compelled for some reason to invite him each year to Christmas dinner.

For someone who had never had a job, at least none that he ever spoke of, Uncle Nick was remarkably well off. Each year he would drive up in a brand new car, with a sack full of store-wrapped gifts. He would be dressed in designer clothes, and would walk about with the easy confidence of someone without a care in the world. But there was also something a little creepy about him, especially the lecherous way he studied my mother whenever he thought no one was watching.

He was also old before his time. Though Uncle Nick was by ten years the elder brother, he looked old enough to be my grandfather - something we all put down to a life of excess and unhealthy habits.

Shortly before my twentieth birthday, he died. A heart attack. He was found at the side of the road in the middle of town, his trousers about his ankles. No sign of violence. Clear indication of recent sexual activity. It was a strange enough occurrence to make the local papers.

Even stranger - though this did not make the papers - his house was like a shrine to ladies' underwear. Uncle Nick lived modestly, in a terraced house in a run-down part of town, but he had drawers and chests full of knickers, mostly cotton lace, of many designs and sizes and colours. Some were clearly decades old, and some were almost new. It had almost been a shame to send them all to the skip.

We gave the old pervert a cremation - no one really knew him apart from us - and rented out the house for a nice steady income. Uncle Nick had had a few thousand in the bank, which about covered our costs, but otherwise he remained as much a mystery in death as in life.

Even his will had been strange, leaving everything to me personally: "To my nephew Marcus," it had said, "I leave all my worldly fortune, and ask only that he wears my watch with pride."

His watch. An old wind-up watch that looked older than the wars. At first I'd had no intention of wearing it, ever, but as the summer holiday ended and it was time to return to university and the final, third year of my mathematics degree, I picked up the watch and thought: Why not?

*

The watch kept good time. Remarkably good time, considering that it never seemed to need to be wound up or corrected. Perhaps, I decided, its age disguised Swiss craftsmanship. Perhaps, even, I was wearing an antique mechanism worth millions to the right buyer. (And indeed so, though not for the reason I imagined.)

Whatever, I had more important things to think about. The lecture material was tough, with in-class tests imminent, and for the third year running I was without a girlfriend. Worse, I was still a virgin, too shy to make a move and too desperate to be desired. My skill with differential equations was not matched by a skill with women. While my housemates paraded their conquests before me, I made do with internet porn.

And then, once night, musing over Uncle Nick's watch and its amazing precision, I pulled out the button at the side that I had assumed to be the winding stem - and wow.

The lights in the house dimmed and an oppressive, unnatural silence fell. "Hello?" I queried, but my voice sounded dead. I didn't connect this with the watch at first - of course not. I put the watch down and went to investigate.

The door of my room opened with reluctance, and still there was silence beyond, as if my housemates had all suddenly left. And yet, Andy was still on the sofa, snuggled up with his girlfriend Emma, Netflix and chilling. Except they were as motionless as the dull image on the screen. And George was in the kitchen, filling a tumbler with water from the tap, water that was quite stationary. When I dipped my fingertips into the stream, however, they came away wet, and I sucked them dry curiously.

I pushed open the resisting door to Jacob's room. He and Patricia were frozen mid-coitus, her brightly coloured pink hair disarrayed as if gravity no longer existed (though it did for me), Jacob's condom-sheathed cock half-buried within her pussy as he took her from behind. In this position her bare breasts looked superb, hanging beneath her so tantalisingly.

How could I resist? I didn't know if I would ever get such a miraculous chance again. (For that matter, I didn't know how long this temporal glitch would continue. The lovers might awaken at any instant and find me gawping at them like an idiot.) Standing beside them, careful not to touch them or the bed more than necessary, I cupped that beautiful, exposed breast in my hand.

Just as the doors resisted me, so too did her flesh, but it was pliable and not without warmth. I pinched her nipple gently, wondering how much of this she could - or would - feel, and fearful of doing damage.

For the first time in my life - that I could remember, anyway - I had my hand on a woman's breast. Tender and intimate, erotic, more so because I had no right to be where I was, intruding on this private, primal act of coupling.

Jacob's attention was unwavering on Patricia, his expression one of lust and determination. Her eyes were closed, her mouth wide open, and I wondered what it would be like to slip my hard cock between those lips...

Because I was hard. Had I been more certain that time would not suddenly restart, I might have taken more liberties with her, but I needed first to understand the nature of this most unnatural state.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, half expecting it to be as frozen as the rest of the world seemed to be, but no. There was no network, no WiFi, but it worked, and the time on its clock was advancing normally. Most importantly, the camera worked, and I took some photos of Patricia, even close-ups of her cock-stuffed pussy.

Before retreating to my room to mull this over, I picked up her red lace knickers from the floor. They were damp with evidence of her earlier arousal, and smelled divine. Remembering my Uncle's huge collection, I understood completely his obsession with these garments.

It all clicked suddenly. My uncle. The knickers. His premature aging. The strange manner of his death. The watch. It was all connected. Uncle Nick must have also had this incredible power to stop time, and had used it to steal underwear - and no doubt for more.

Back in my room, I pushed the crown back into the watch - and the noise of the world rushed back again. I heard a distant cry of surprise from Patricia, followed by cursing from the kitchen, but otherwise life continued unaware of its brief interruption.

I could wait no longer. Patricia's musky knickers pressed to my mouth and nose, I breathed in that intoxicating scent as I worked myself to a climax. But although the memory of Patricia's breast in my mind was sharp, and the image on my phone of her pussy sweet indeed, it wasn't Patricia who I was imagining as my cum spurted onto my belly.

*

Ever since the start of uni, I'd had a crush on Keira. She was one of the prettiest girls in my maths classes, with long, strawberry blonde hair and a thick Irish accent. I loved listening to her speak, and laugh, and I loved watching her - and not least her sizable breasts. I could hardly take my eyes off them, something that made both of us uncomfortable whenever we interacted.

So I had taken to adoring her from a distance, and one of my daily delights was seeing her on the bus in the mornings. I would sit behind her somewhere, watching surreptitiously, spinning fantasies in which she served my every depraved whim.

Keira...

And now, suddenly, I had the power to make those fantasies real. In a way. It would be wrong - so very wrong - but to have such power and not use it? It would drive anyone mad. If I used the power to murder half the world's villains, would that be an act of Good or Evil? Maybe I would do that later, but first I would have my fun.

Indeed, I hardly slept for lying awake planning the day ahead. When she wasn't on the bus as anticipated, I felt acutely distressed. I got off at the next stop, and waited seemingly forever for the next to come along. Being able to stop time does not hasten the arrival of buses. I breathed a sigh of relief at finding her there.

As always, I dared to hope for a smile from her, or at least a nod of recognition, but dreaded it also. Would she see in my eyes my intentions towards her? See me for the undeniable pervert that I was?

She barely glanced at me, her lips thinning with familiar distaste - and that, more than anything, decided it for me. As I settled into a seat a few rows behind her, for once I didn't mind that we were not alone. My fellow passengers would be an unwitting audience, and an alias, even, should one ever be needed.

I stopped time, and started the day.

The sun dimmed, and the bus stopped so abruptly I expected to be thrown forward, but the laws of physics were being selective indeed. Through the windows I saw birds halted mid-flight, pedestrians posed like statues, cyclists balanced perfectly on two points. Almost like being in a photograph.

Inside too. Men, women, sitting still with expressions of utter boredom, all utterly defenceless in this moment of time. Across the aisle from me, two attractive young women in business suits were no longer talking about whatever series it was. It was Keira I wanted, but I had all the time in the world. Time enough, certainly, to tease open a shirt and expose a white lace bra. Or to tease up a skirt and reveal white lace knickers...

How cruel the invention of underwear! How much simpler things would be without it!

I hadn't thought through all the technicalities of my planned adventure. I teased her nipples through the lace, and imagined them getting hard in response, and my fingers squeezed between her thighs to brush against the protective lace there. If she was wet, I couldn't feel it. Deciding to leave her like that, her clothing disheveled, I kissed her parted, unresponsive lips, my tongue seeking hers.

Was this what it was like to have a sex doll? Physically perfect, absolutely controllable, unthinking. Was I sick for wanting to fuck her like this? Probably.

My cock was throbbing painfully within my pants. Within full sight of my fellow, unseeing passengers, I stripped and made my way up the aisle to Keira. Beautiful Keira who was now mine to play with. Tempting though it was to thrust my hard cock into her mouth, I had a more subtle intention.

I lifted her black T-shirt up to reveal her bra, and enjoyed that exquisite view as I stroked my cock, teasing her nipples with the soft tip until the black lace glistened with precum. I was in no hurry, but the need was too great. I moaned with delight as my cum launched out, splashing against her bra and the upper slopes of her breasts.

I stood admiring my handiwork for a minute, before fetching my phone and taking a photo of Keira with cum-splashed breasts. Absolutely gorgeous. As I lowered her T-shirt again, the thought of her wearing my cum, of being able to smell it on her breasts, had my cock surging to life again. "Patience, boy," I said to it, laughing as I dressed again.

Taking my seat, I started time again, and tried not to laugh as the woman across the aisle gave a cry that was part surprise, part lust, and hurriedly fixed her clothing while her friend watched in bafflement.

*

I'd forgotten about the test. Or, rather, I'd been so distracted by the discovery of the watch's power that I'd forgotten to study for the test. The irony was that I could have had all the time I needed to study, if I'd thought about it. Then again, once the test started, I stopped time and cheated outrageously right under the lecturer's nose.

I thought about playing with Keira again. It was hilarious - delicious! - that she was here, in class, her bra soaked with my cum. (Maybe I wasn't imagining a slight blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.) Her T-shirt too was discernibly damp. I teased her nipples through the layers of material for a minute, before wandering off in search of a knife or scissors or something.

Amy's mouth was open, her expression one of surprise. By chance I had frozen time with her in this most tempting and vulnerable of poses. This most inviting of poses. I accepted her invitation, slipping my cock between her lips... my first blowjob... the soft, velvety interior of her mouth almost unbearably sweet.

I withdrew again, before an undesired finish - my plans lay elsewhere - but I hoped the taste of me would linger for a while. A strand of glistening precum fell across her chin, another moment worthy of my camera roll. So very hot. I would have to dedicate a day to Amy.

But this was Keira's day.

Amy had scissors in her stationery kit. I used them to cut the threads of the button on Keira's jeans. Not completely, but hopefully enough.

After class, I watched surreptitiously as Keira rushed off towards the bathroom, and grinned delightedly as she stopped suddenly and knelt awkwardly to pick up the traitorous button.

I generously gave her the privacy she craved.

*

The ability to stop time did not make the walk into town any quicker. If anything, time seemed to drag. The dimmed light of the sun offered no warmth, and the colours of the grass and trees and the university's well tended flower beds lacked vibrancy. There was no bird song or whispering wind, no laughter, no music, no distractions from my unnatural place in the world.

I wondered just how fast I was moving. That I still had a shadow suggested time had not exactly stopped, that light still outpaced me. I would have to do some experiments - but that could wait.

In Starbucks I poured myself a filter coffee and sat sipping it quietly, resting my feet, then helped myself to some cookies before continuing to my real destination.

I had never dared enter an adult store before, but I no longer had to worry about being seen. It was heaven. Not so much the lingerie and kinky costumes, but all the toys I had so often wondered about but never experienced. Vibrators, dildos, buttplugs, handcuffs, nipple clamps, whips, you name it. My bag was soon full of loot to try out later.

All of which was making me desperately horny, and one of the two shop assistants was a tall, gorgeous blonde who was caught in the act of bending over, her charcoal skirt tight about her firm ass. It was an act of kindness to expose those delectable cheeks to view, and simplicity itself to ease the white lace knickers down those shapely legs. I knelt behind that divinity, admiring her forbidden rosebud, fascinated by the pursed lips of her shaven pussy.

She was perfection, a goddess to be worshipped, with exploring fingers and questing tongue. The smell and taste of her was intoxicating, and her tightness about my delving tongue had my cock aching to fill her. Only my determination to save myself for Keira held me back from plunging my hard cock deep into her warm centre.

Instead, with the aid of an artificial pussy and some lube from the shelf beside me, I worked myself to a much needed climax as my tongue dipped curiously into the muscular ring of her ass.

*

I half slept through Differential Geometry, my feet weary from the walk into town and back. I felt some conflict over how easily I'd been seduced into perversion, but the pleasure of it was not something I'd easily give up now. The power and freedom it gave me was like a drug; as satisfying as the day had been so far, I wanted more. Well before the end of the lecture my cock was stirring to life again, ready for a third round of deviant pleasure.

Keira had arrived late, slipping in quietly and taking a seat at the opposite end of the same row I was in. It was strange to think that only ten, maybe fifteen, minutes had passed for her while I had been all the way into town and back. I could still smell the blonde's pussy on my face. I couldn't wait to smell Keira's too.

As the lecture drew to an end, and everyone started packing stuff away, I stopped time and circled around to Keira. I could tell immediately that she had removed her bra, and much preferred her this way. The natural curves of her large breasts and the sharp points of her nipples made a much more exciting shape. Lifting her shirt, I bent to suck on her nipples, licking the tender tips while my hands massaged the soft flesh.

Although space was tight, I was able to manoeuvre myself into a position that brought my erect, eager length between her breasts. I dribbled saliva into that deep channel to ease the way, the head of my cock emerging then retreating with each thrust. Like a perfect sex doll, Keira did not react. Her expression spoke of relief - no doubt gladness at the lecture being over - and she gazed unwaveringly through me.

I abandoned her breasts and instead brushed her lips with the tip of my cock, coating them with my precum, before fixing her shirt and returning to my seat.

Her cry of surprise as I started time again could be heard across the room even over the din of a hundred chattering students. It was such a thrill knowing that what I did to her was not without effect. She leaned against the wall, panting, as students streamed out of the lecture hall past her.

As soon as no one was looking at me, I stopped time again and circled back to Keira. She was perfectly positioned for me to unzip her jeans and access her black lace knickers. Using Amy's scissors I cut the sides and tugged them free. The smell of them was exquisite, and their wetness a victory.

I started time, and chuckled at the sight of her clutching her jeans as she fled.

*

I lost track of her after that. When Keira didn't appear at the next class, I stopped time and went in search of her. She wasn't in any of the corridors or bathrooms. (I was treated to the sight of urine gushing from one of my lecturer's exposed pussy, and snapped a picture of it for remembrance.) She wasn't in the Common Room either, so she had to be outside...

I found her eventually, marching towards town, taking a short cut across the grass. By this time I was really quite irritated with her and determined to punish her.

I tried her shoelaces together and retreated to a secluded spot to restart time - for no more than the second it took for her to fall to her hands and knees. I returned immediately to remove her shoes and socks, and tugged her jeans down to expose her bare bum, and took great pleasure in spanking her thoroughly.

"Stop!" she cried when I had retreated once again to start time. "Leave me alone!" Wonderful though it was to be able to have her helpless with time stopped, it was so much more erotic to watch her kneeling there and fully aware of her increasingly rosy cheeks being exposed to public view. I could see several people on the path glancing her way with varying degrees of concern and curiosity.

Gradually she got to her feet and pulled her jeans up, and I allowed her to take a few steps before stopping her. In what was a slow tease for me and probably a few seconds of humiliating perplexity for her, I applied clamps to her nipples; then pulled her jeans down to her ankles; then, with her frozen in the act of bending down to pull them up, she was in the perfect position for me.

Like before with the shop assistant, I knelt behind Keira and licked the sweet, tempting, forbidden button of her ass. I knew it wouldn't be long before I lost my virginity in her wet, welcoming pussy, but I hadn't finished punishing her yet. I penetrated that tight ring with my tongue, getting it nice and wet with my saliva, enjoying the dirty pleasure of it.

Applying some lube to that rear entrance, I finger-fucked her for a while, first with one finger, then with two. Finally I took the glass buttplug from my bag of loot and worked it into her. Another fair sight worthy of my camera roll.