The air in the suit had begun to taste bad, full of sour sweat, burnt adrenaline.

He'd spent all night tossing in a fever, his berth soaked with sour sweat.

A rank smell filled his nose, equal parts sour sweat and pigsty.

Laura could smell his sour sweat drifting down on the stale air.

I could smell the sour sweat in which he'd been basting.

Smell: sour human sweat, beads standing out on a high forehead and the back of chubby hands.

It was doughy and moist, and she could smell his sour sweat.

He moves close to her; she can smell sour sweat, feel the heat of his body.

He had bathed in lemonwater, she judged, but no lemon could mask so much sour sweat.

Gard could suddenly smell his own sweat, sour and evil.