Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Mira’s limp, sweat-drenched body finally surrendered completely atop me—her full, heaving tits mashed flat against my chest, nipples still diamond-hard and scraping my skin with every shallow, ragged breath she managed to drag in.

Her ruined holes—pussy and asshole alike—twitched and pulsed around the thick remnants of my cock, still half-buried in her spasming cunt from when I’d flipped her last, unwilling to let even an inch of that greedy warmth escape.

Thick, creamy ropes of my cum bubbled out from both entrances in lazy, obscene dribbles, trickling down her inner thighs and pooling hot and sticky on my balls, mixing with the remnants of her squirting floods until everything between us was a slick, filthy mess.

She’d fainted hard—eyes rolled back to whites, mouth slack and drooling a thin trail of spit onto my collarbone, her whole frame shuddering in tiny, unconscious aftershocks like her body was still chasing the brutal orgasms I’d ripped from her.

Fuck, she looked perfect like this: utterly broken, claimed, leaking my seed from every violated inch, a perfect cum-soaked ragdoll for our growing harem.

Angela knelt there beside us on the bed, her thighs splayed wide like she couldn’t help but put her dripping cunt on display, fingers idly circling her swollen clit through the sheer fabric of her assassin suit.

But her eyes—dark, hungry, edged with that possessive fire—were locked on Mira’s wrecked form: the way her asshole gaped slightly even now, pink and puffy, farting out little bubbles of my thick load with every involuntary clench.

The way her pussy lips hung swollen and red, still fluttering like they were begging for more cock despite the abuse.

Angela’s breath came in short, jealous huffs, her own nipples stabbing against her suit like bullets, a visible wet spot blooming between her legs from how turned on the sight made her.

”Husband...” she whispered, voice cracking with that perfect blend of pouty vulnerability and raw, aching need, her lower lip trembling as she crawled closer, one hand reaching out to trace a fingertip through the creamy mess leaking from Mira’s ass.

”I’m so fucking jealous... Didn’t you want to take my virgin asshole first? You promised me—whispered it in my ear night after night while you railed my sloppy cunt raw, your breath hot on my neck, telling me how you’d spread my cheeks and shove that monster cock deep into my tight little backdoor until I screamed and squirted like a filthy whore...”

”How you’d make it yours, stretch it until it gaped for days, leaking your cum every time I sat down. But Mira... she beat me to it. She stole your first anal claim. I feel... sad. So empty back there, aching for you to bully it open as you did hers.”

Her words hung heavy in the humid cave air, laced with that genuine hurt beneath the tease—her eyes shimmering with unshed tears of frustration, but her pussy betraying her completely, clenching visibly and drooling fresh slick down her thighs at the mere thought of it.

Fuck, my cock throbbed harder inside Mira’s unconscious heat, swelling against her fluttering walls just from Angela’s needy whine.

I chuckled low and dark, the sound rumbling through my chest like thunder, and reached out with my free hand—the one not pinning Mira’s limp form down.

I pinched the tip of Angela’s cute, upturned nose between my thumb and forefinger, tugging it playfully but firm enough to make her scrunch her face in that adorable, humiliated way, her cheeks flushing crimson as a soft, whiny gasp escaped her parted lips.

”Don’t be sad, my greedy little cumslut,” I murmured, voice dropping to that gravelly timbre she always melted for, laced with filthy promise as I twisted the pinch just a hair tighter, making her eyes water and her thighs squeeze together desperately.

”Your tight virgin asshole’s been mine from the start—saved it like a prize, waiting for the perfect moment to rip it open and make you my anal bitch.”

”Mira was just... practice. A sloppy, hairy-cunted appetizer. But you? You’re the main course. I’m gonna devour that puckered little rosebud until you’re begging me to stop and sobbing for more, squirting so hard you flood the whole fucking cave.”

Angela’s breath hitched sharply and needily, her pupils dilating to black pools, a fresh gush of slick was audible as it trickled from her suit’s ruined crotch. ”R-Really, husband...? You promise...?”

I released her nose with a soft pop, sliding my hand down to cup her flushed cheek—thumb smearing a streak of Mira’s leaked cum across her skin like war paint—then yanked her forward into a crushing hug.

My cock—still rock-hard, veins bulging, slick with Mira’s cream and my own drying seed—throbbed insistently against her flat stomach through the fabric, the fat head leaking a fresh bead of precum that soaked into her suit like a brand.

She whimpered into my neck, grinding her hips forward on instinct, trying to trap my shaft between us, her tits heaving against my chest as she clung like a lifeline.

”Promise,” I growled against her ear, nipping the lobe hard enough to make her yelp. ”Now let’s get our fainted slut settled... then I’m gonna bully that jealous little body of yours until you forget what jealousy even feels like.”

I shifted Mira’s dead weight carefully—easing my cock free from her clenching pussy with a wet schlorp that made a fresh flood of cum pour out, splattering hot across my thigh and the mat.

She mumbled something incoherent in her faint, body twitching like a broken toy, but I rolled her onto her side anyway—tucking a rumpled sleeping bag under her head like a pillow, one hand lingering to squeeze her marked ass cheek possessively, watching more of my load fart out from her gaping asshole in bubbly, obscene spurts. ”Sleep tight, baby girl... You earned it after taking that ass-pounding like a champ.”

Then I turned back to Angela—grabbing her by the throat in a loose, dominant hold and shoving her down onto the mat beside Mira.

My fingers hooked into the high collar of her assassin suit—that sleek, skin-tight black number that had been teasing me all fucking night, clinging to every curve like it was painted on—and I ripped.

The fabric gave with a savagerrrrriiiiippp—tearing straight down the front in jagged, ragged strips that exposed her perfect, heaving tits in an instant: full, pale globes bouncing free, nipples dark and puckered like chocolate kisses begging to be abused.

I didn’t stop—yanking harder, shredding the material over her flat stomach, down to her mound—until the crotch split open too, the seams popping with wet pops as her shaved pussy came into view: lips puffy and glistening, clit throbbing visibly, a thick strand of her arousal stretching from her hole to the ruined fabric like a filthy invitation.

”Husband—! Don’t tear them...!” Angela gasped, voice a mix of pouty protest and horny whine, her hands fluttering uselessly over the tattered edges, cheeks burning as cool cave air hit her exposed skin.

”I really liked this suit... it made me feel so sexy... like your perfect little assassin slut...”