Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

I walked back to the base slowly.

The clearing came into view.

The moment I stepped past the first trees, the air shifted—thick with tension.

Jack’s voice cut through the quiet first—low, furious, barely controlled.

”Mira... tell me what is going on with you and that Dexter...?”

Mira stood near the fire—arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to shield the still-prominent outline of her nipples beneath her shirt. Her face was already flushed from earlier embarrassment; now it paled, then flushed again as Jack’s words hit her.

”What’s happened?” she asked—voice sharp, defensive, but with a tremor underneath. She glanced around—suddenly aware that everyone was listening.

Nicole clung to her side, wide-eyed. Bill stood a few feet away—cheek still faintly red from her earlier slap—looking between his parents with growing confusion.

Jack stepped closer—face dark, jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.

”I saw you flirting with him,” he said, voice rising despite his attempt to keep it low. ”Mira, it’s been just two days—two fucking days—and you’re already flirting with others like a slut.”

The word landed like a slap.

Mira recoiled—eyes widening in shock, then narrowing in pure, burning anger. Her innocence—her fidelity—being questioned in front of everyone made her tremble with rage.

”Jack—what nonsense are you talking about?” she snapped, voice cracking. ”When did I flirt with anyone? When? Tell me!”

Jack’s eyes flicked toward me as I approached—then back to her. His fists clenched at his sides.

”I saw everything,” he growled. ”You took his hand—pulled him away like you couldn’t wait to be alone with him. Dragged him deep into the forest. Where he even gave you his gun. Tell me—there’s nothing between you two? Only a ghost would believe that.”

Mira shook her head—tears welling instantly, spilling over her lashes.

”No...” she whispered, voice breaking. ”It’s not true. It’s not—”

Jack laughed—bitter, hollow.

”Really? There’s no need to lie, Mira. I saw it all. You took his hand. You let him touch your face. You let him brush your hair back like—like he had a right to you. And you just... stood there. Blushing. Letting him talk to you like that. Like some lovesick girl.”

The camp had gone dead silent.

Everyone was gathering now—slowly, awkwardly—drawn by the rising voices. Nicole’s eyes were huge, confused. Lisa hovered near the fire, arms wrapped around herself. Paul propped himself up higher on his log, face grim. Hailey and Megan exchanged glances—Megan’s cheeks still faintly flushed from her earlier relief in the woods.

Bill stepped forward—voice small but cutting.

”Is that so, Mom?” he asked, looking at Mira with something between hurt and accusation. ”That’s why you were so protective of Dexter? So quick to slap me when I said he wasn’t a good person? Because... because you’re with him?”

Mira’s head snapped toward her son—eyes wide with horror.

”Bill—no—”

Bill’s voice cracked—anger and betrayal mixing.

”I saw it too. You hugged him—tight. Your... your chest was pressed against him. Right in front of me. You kissed him. You cried his name like—like he was more important than Dad. Than us.”

The words hung in the air like poison.

Mira’s face crumpled—tears streaming freely now.

”That’s not—Bill, that’s not what happened. He saved you. He almost died for you—twice. I was scared. I was grateful. That’s all—”

Jack stepped closer—voice low, dangerous.

”Grateful? Is that what you call it? Letting him touch your face? Letting him whisper in your ear? Letting him give you a gun like some secret lover’s gift? You think I’m blind, Mira?”

Mira shook her head violently—tears flying.

”No—no—no—he was apologizing. For how he treated me before. For the things he said that night. He was giving me the gun for protection. That’s all. I swear—”

Jack laughed again—harsh, disbelieving.

”Protection? In the middle of the woods? Alone? With his finger on your lips? Brushing your hair back as he owns you? You expect me to believe that was just... gratitude?”

Mira’s voice rose—desperate, pleading.

”Jack—please. You’re twisting it. You’re making it sound—”

”I’m making it sound like what I saw,” he cut in. ”My wife—my wife—sneaking off with some kid half her age. Blushing like a teenager. Letting him touch her. Giving him looks I haven’t seen in years. And you stand there crying innocence?”

Nicole whimpered—clinging tighter to Mira’s side.

”Dad—stop—”

Jack ignored her—eyes locked on Mira.

”Tell me the truth, Mira. Did you fuck him? Did you spread your legs for him in those woods? Is that why you slapped our son for questioning him? Because you’re protecting your lover?”

Mira recoiled like she’d been struck.

”How dare you—” she whispered, voice shaking with fury and hurt. ”How dare you say that in front of our children. In front of everyone. I didn’t—I would never—”

Jack stepped closer—voice dropping to a venomous hiss.

”Then explain it. Explain why you couldn’t keep your hands off him. Why did you blush every time he looked at you? Why are you still blushing now?”

Mira’s tears fell faster—silent, heartbroken.

”Because he saved our son,” she said—voice cracking. ”Because he threw himself off a cliff for Bill. Because he came back when I thought he was dead. Because he made me feel... safe. For the first time since this nightmare started. That’s all. That’s it.”

Jack stared at her—chest heaving.

”Safe,” he repeated bitterly. ”With him. Not with me. Not with your husband.”

Mira shook her head—sobbing quietly.

”I never said that. I never—”

Jack turned away—shoulders rigid.

”Everyone heard you,” he said. ”Everyone saw.”

Jack’s words sliced through the clearing like a blade, raw and venomous.

”I have nothing to do with you... a bitch. Go off with your lover—leave my family alone.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Every breath in the camp seemed to stop. Mira stood frozen—arms wrapped so tightly around herself that her knuckles were white, tears streaming silently down her cheeks in thick, unbroken tracks. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out. The accusation hung in the air—ugly, final, impossible to unhear.

Nicole clung to her mother’s side—small hands fisted in Mira’s shirt, whispering brokenly, ”Mom... Mom... please...” Her voice was tiny, terrified, like she was afraid the world was cracking open beneath them.

Bill stared at the ground—silent, guilty, conflicted. His cheek still bore the faint red imprint of Mira’s earlier slap, and now his eyes glistened with unshed tears. He opened his mouth once—then closed it again, shoulders hunching inward.