Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

When we stepped back into the cave, the four of us moving like shadows in the moonlight spilling through the entrance, the air inside hit me like a wall—thick, humid, still heavy with the musky scent of sweat, arousal, and the faint salty tang of the sea outside.

The battery lamp I’d set up earlier flickered dimly on its lowest setting, casting long, amber-tinted shadows across the wide bed where we’d all been tangled just minutes before.

Angela led the way, her hips swaying with that confident, teasing grace, while Lisa hung back a step, smirking like she was already plotting her own fun.

Mira clung to my side, her hand hot and clammy in mine, her body still trembling from the emotional whirlwind outside—tears dried but cheeks flushed, her sore ass brushing against my thigh with every step, reminding her of the slaps I’d delivered.

The first thing I did was reach for the lamp, twisting the dial to crank up the brightness. The light bloomed outward, flooding the cave with a warm, golden glow that chased away the dim secrecy we’d hidden in earlier.

Now everything was clear—sharp edges on the rough stone walls, the rumpled sleeping bags strewn like battlefields, and the three women in all their disheveled glory.

Angela’s suit clung to her curves like a second skin, nipples poking through the thin fabric from the cool night air.

Lisa’s pants were damp at the crotch from whatever she’d been doing while listening to us. And Mira—god, Mira looked like a wreck of need and nerves, her pants hastily pulled up but crooked, hair tousled, lips swollen from our kiss outside.

Angela turned to Mira with a wicked smile, her eyes sparkling in the brighter light as she sized her up like a prize. ”Mira... let me see if you can satisfy my husband,” she said, voice low and teasing, stepping closer to trace a finger down Mira’s arm, making her shiver.

”If not, then we’ll have to find another sister to join us. Can’t have him going unsatisfied, can we? He’s a god, after all—needs more than one woman to keep that cock of his happy.”

Mira’s eyes widened, flicking nervously to Lisa, who was lounging against the cave wall with her arms crossed, biting her lip to hide a grin. ”Sister Angela... is Lisa also Dexter’s wife...?” Mira asked, her voice small and uncertain, cheeks burning brighter as the words hung in the air.

Lisa blushed deeply, her usual cocky demeanor cracking for a second as she glanced away, thighs pressing together subtly. Angela chuckled, a rich, throaty sound that echoed off the stones, reaching out to ruffle Lisa’s hair playfully.

”Not yet...” Angela drawled, drawing out the words with a sly wink. ”But she’s been eyeing him like a hungry cat since we got stranded here. Isn’t that right, Lisa? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you rubbing those thighs together every time he gives an order.”

Lisa huffed, rolling her eyes, but unable to hide the flush creeping up her neck. ”Shut up, Angela. Like you’re one to talk—you practically begged him to fuck you in front of us earlier.”

Mira turned her gaze to me then, a mix of determination and embarrassment flashing in her eyes. She straightened up, trying to look bold despite the way her knees still wobbled.

”Sister Angela... even if he is a god... he’s just a brat,” she said, her voice gaining a stubborn edge, though it trembled on the last word. ”See how I deal with him... hmph. He won’t have the energy to play around with other women after I’m done with him.”

The women burst into laughter—Angela clapping her hands delightedly, Lisa snorting as she pushed off the wall to join us on the bed.

Mira scoffed, her blush deepening to a furious red, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she came closer to me, her scent—sweat, sea salt, and that underlying musk of her dripping pussy—washing over me like a wave.

”I will deal with you...” she murmured, voice husky with a mix of shyness and resolve, her eyes locking onto mine with a challenge that made my cock twitch in my pants.

She grabbed my hand firmly, her fingers interlacing with mine in a grip that was equal parts desperate and demanding. ”Come here...” she said, pulling me toward the wide sleeping bed with surprising strength, her bare feet padding softly on the cool stone floor. I let her lead, amused and aroused, my free hand brushing her hip as we moved.

When we reached the bed, she shoved me down onto my back with both hands on my chest—hard enough to make me grunt in surprise, though I could’ve resisted if I wanted. The bed gave slightly under my weight, the fabric warm from our earlier bodies.

Mira climbed on top immediately, straddling my chest with her thighs, clamping down like velvet vices, her weight pressing me into the bed.

I could feel the heat radiating from her core, her pants still damp and clinging between her legs, the outline of her swollen pussy lips visible through the thin material.

Her face was a storm of embarrassment—cheeks flaming, eyes darting away every few seconds—but she held her ground, hands planted on my shoulders to pin me down. Her tits heaved with every shallow breath, nipples stiff against her top, and her ass—still sore and marked from my slaps—hovered just above my abs, twitching slightly as she shifted.

”See?” she said breathlessly, trying to sound triumphant but coming out more like a whimper.

”I’m in charge now, Dexter. You... you think you can just take whatever you want? Well, I’m going to make you beg for it this time.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she bit her lip, thighs squeezing tighter around me as if to convince herself more than anyone else.

Angela and Lisa had settled on either side of the bed, watching with hungry eyes, the brighter light illuminating every flush and fidget. ”Oh, Mira, honey,” Angela purred, leaning in closer, her hand trailing lazily over her own thigh. ”You look so cute trying to play dominant. But let’s see how long that lasts once he gets his hands on you.”