Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

I reached between her thighs from behind—fingers brushing the drenched gusset one last time. She jolted—whimpering sharply—as I dragged my fingertips along her soaked slit through the fabric, collecting her wetness like proof. Then I hooked the crotch itself—middle finger curling under the sodden material—and pulled.

One final, brutal tug.

The last threads snapped with a wet crack. The panties came free in my hand—warm, heavy, drenched—her arousal so thick it left glistening strings connecting the fabric to her pussy for a split second before they broke.

I brought the torn scrap up slowly—deliberately—holding it right in front of her face so she could see it in the dim amber glow: the black cotton darkened to near-charcoal in the center, slick and shiny with her own juices, the faint musky scent rising sharp and intimate between us.

”Open wide, Angela,” I whispered, lips brushing her earlobe. ”Taste how much your greedy little cunt wants this.”

She shook her head wildly—tears streaming in rivers now—muffled pleas buzzing frantically against my palm. But I pressed the soaked gusset against her lips anyway—rubbing it back and forth once, twice—smearing her own slickness across her mouth like obscene, glistening lip gloss. She gagged reflexively, a tiny, choked sound escaping before her lips parted on a broken sob.

I pushed.

The balled-up panties slid past her teeth—warm, salty, tasting overwhelmingly of her own arousal. I stuffed them deep—deeper—until her cheeks bulged slightly, the fabric filling her mouth completely. Only a small, wet corner of black cotton peeked from between her lips like a filthy, makeshift gag.

I used my thumb to tuck that last corner fully inside—sealing her silence—then traced the outline of her stuffed mouth with the pad of my finger, feeling how her tongue instinctively pressed against the sodden material.

”Perfect,” I breathed, voice thick with dark lust. ”Look at you... My sweet, innocent wife... gagged with her own drenched panties... tasting herself while I play with your holes. You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re humiliated like this.”

Mira’s eyes rolled back for a heartbeat—overwhelmed, dizzy—then squeezed shut again as fresh tears poured down her cheeks in silent rivers. Drool gathered at the corners of her stretched lips, mixing with her tears, dripping in thin, glistening trails down her chin and onto the sleeping mat.

I kissed the nape of her neck—slow, open-mouthed—then whispered one last devastating line against her skin:

”Now keep that pretty mouth full and stay quiet while I claim what’s mine. You don’t want Lisa or Mira waking up and seeing Angela like this—panties stuffed down her throat, ass bare and dripping, crying while her husband fingers her like the needy slut she really is... do you?”

She shook her head weakly—defeated, broken—but her hips rolled back in tiny, helpless circles, silently begging for more even as her tears never stopped.

I slid two fingers back into her sopping pussy—curling them deep—while my thumb pressed insistently against her asshole again.

She was mine—completely, humiliatingly, irrevocably.

And she knew it.

Her asscrack was already slick with sweat. I pushed my finger inside her tight little asshole anyway, feeling the hot, fluttering resistance give way just enough to make Mira tremble violently against me. A choked, broken sound leaked past my palm even though I kept it clamped firm over her mouth.

I leaned in closer, lips brushing the damp shell of her ear as I whispered, low and filthy,

”It’s even tighter than before I put my thumb in there... I didn’t expect you to be more excited than me, baby girl.”

I let the words hang for a heartbeat, then deliberately let my voice drop lower, darker, speaking as though the words were meant for someone else entirely.

”Angela... you are such a naughty wife. Are you finding it thrilling to be right here, in front of Lisa and Mira... like before... when I fucked you on the grass while you talked to Mira, trying so fucking hard to hold your moans?”

Mira’s whole body jerked at the name—her eyes snapping wide again in the amber glow, pupils blown with panic and something far more shameful. Her cunt clenched viciously around my fingers; fresh heat flooded my hand.

She shook her head again—frantic, desperate—but the motion only rubbed her cheek against my calloused palm, only made her muffled whimpers vibrate straight into my skin.

I curled my fingers harder inside her, stroking that swollen, spongy spot that made her hips buck involuntarily. At the same time I worked my finger deeper into her ass—slow, relentless—feeling the tight ring pulse and flutter like it was trying to pull me in.

”Feel that?” I murmured, lips grazing her earlobe. ”Your body’s begging louder than your mouth ever could. You’re dripping down my wrist, Mira... and your little asshole’s gripping me like it never wants me to leave.”

I rocked my hips forward just enough to let her feel how thick and heavy my cock had become, trapped between us, leaking against the small of her back.

Across the mat Angela’s breathing had changed—still slow, still even... but now just a fraction too deliberate. Pretending. Listening.

Lisa hadn’t moved.

But I knew she wasn’t asleep anymore either.

I pressed my mouth to the nape of Mira’s neck, tasting salt and heat and fear-sweat, and growled soft enough that only she—and maybe Angela—could hear:

”Keep quiet, baby... or I’ll wake them both up and show them exactly what a greedy little slut my wife’s new friend really is.”

I lifted her arm gently but firmly, exposing the soft, shadowed hollow of her armpit. The faint, musky scent of her—sweat, salt from the sea air, and something unmistakably feminine—hit me like a drug.

I pressed my mouth there without hesitation, tongue dragging slowly and deliberately over the damp skin, tasting her. Rough licks, then a hard suck against the tender flesh, making her entire body seize up against mine.

Mira’s muffled cry vibrated straight into my palm. She tried to twist away, but my arm around her waist pinned her tighter, my cock throbbing insistently against the cleft of her ass.

I pulled back just enough to speak, lips brushing the wet skin I’d just licked clean, voice a low, taunting rasp right against her ear.

”Why are they so hairy, Angela...?” I murmured, letting the name drip like honeyed poison. ”Didn’t you shave them? We got hijacked here... hmm. Looks like tomorrow morning we’re gonna have to shave them off, aren’t we, baby girl?”