Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

I nodded, my expression unreadable. The game was on, and the rules were clear—for now.

Marina turned and walked into the main hall, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The room was vast, opulent—chandeliers sparkling overhead, plush couches arranged in intimate circles, and a bar stocked with the finest liquors in the corner. And then, I saw them—the women.

There were at least a dozen of them, all dressed in elegant, expensive clothing, their laughter filling the air like music.

Each one had a female bodyguard standing discreetly behind them, their postures rigid, their eyes sharp. The scene was surreal—a gathering of powerful women, each with their own protector, each exuding an aura of confidence and secrecy.

Marina smiled and hugged a woman tightly—a striking figure in a red pencil dress, her blonde hair cascading down her back in loose waves. ”Brittany...” Marina said, her voice warm, her embrace genuine.

But I noticed Brittany’s eyes—they were locked on me, studying me with open curiosity. And she wasn’t the only one. The other women had noticed me too, their gaze flickering between Marina and me, their expressions ranging from intrigue to envy to something darker.

Brittany pulled back from the hug, her voice low but carrying across the room. ”Who is this, Marina?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp, assessing.

Marina didn’t miss a beat. ”He is my bodyguard...” she said, her voice casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Brittany raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. ”But didn’t you send away all those bodyguards that your husband assigned for you?” There was a hint of challenge in her tone, a test to see if Marina would crack under the pressure.

Marina laughed, the sound light and effortless. ”Kevin said things were a bit dangerous around...” she explained, her voice smooth. ”So he assigned some bodyguards for me...”

She gestured toward me, her hand resting on my arm possessively. ”His name is Dexter... He was ex-military...” She paused, her eyes flickering to Brittany. ”And Kevin also arranged three other female bodyguards for me... So they should be arranged by now...”

Brittany nodded, her smile growing wider, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She knew there was more to the story—and she was intrigued. ”I see...” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

”Well, it’s good to have extra protection...” Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she turned back to Marina, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

”Though I must say, Marina... He’s quite the specimen...” There was a hint of envy in her tone, a recognition that Marina had something she didn’t.

A maid approached with a tray of wine glasses, and Marina took one, sinking onto a plush couch with effortless grace. I stood behind her, my posture rigid, my eyes scanning the room—always watchful, always ready.

The women resumed their conversations, their voices a low hum of laughter and gossip. But as I listened, I realized—this wasn’t just a social gathering. The topics were vulgar, unfiltered, their words dripping with scandal and secrets.

”...and then he actually thought I wouldn’t notice the lipstick on his collar...” one woman laughed, her voice rich with amusement. She was the Finance Minister’s wife, her diamond earrings catching the light as she took a sip of her wine.

Another woman—the Defense Minister’s wife—leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. ”Oh, that’s nothing... My husband thinks I don’t know about his little mistress in the city...” She scoffed, her lips curling into a smirk. ”As if I wouldn’t have her followed...”

The Education Minister’s wife chimed in, her voice giddy. ”You should see the messages I found on his phone...” She giggled, the sound high and musical. ”Let’s just say, he’s not as innocent as he pretends...”

I stood silent, listening, my mind racing. These weren’t just high-society women—they were predators, each with their own secrets, their own games. And Marina? She was the queen of them all.

And then there were they—the five women who ruled this world from the shadows. Each one a force to be reckoned with, each one draped in elegance and sin, their bodies curved like sculptures carved by the gods of lust themselves.

1. Marina – President’s Wife

Marina sat at the center of the plush couch, her black pencil dress clinging to her like a second skin.

The fabric was so tight it groaned with every movement, outlining the swell of her breasts—full, heavy, the cleavage spilling just enough to tease without revealing. Her nipples pressed against the thin material, hard and aching, begging for attention.

The dress hugged her waist before flaring slightly over her hips, molding to the round, firm ass that swayed with every step she took. Her red lipstick was smeared just slightly at the corners, as if she’d been kissing someone—or biting her lip in anticipation. Her dark hair was swept into a loose chignon, tendrils escaping to frame her face, her eyes dark with mischief and power.

She crossed her legs, the hem of her dress riding up just enough to reveal a glimpse of black lace panties—barely there, transparent enough to hint at the dark curls beneath. Her heels clicked against the floor as she shifted, her thighs pressing together, the friction making her pussy throb. She knew I was watching. She knew I was hard just looking at her. And she loved it.

2. Brittany – Wife of the Foreign Affairs Minister

Brittany lounged on the opposite couch, her red pencil dress so tight it looked like it had been painted onto her body.

The fabric shimmered under the light, hugging her curves in a way that defied physics. Her tits were massive—full, round, spilling over the deep plunge of her neckline, her nipples visible through the thin material, hard and pointed like diamonds.

Her waist was cinched so tightly the dress groaned with every breath, and her ass—oh, her ass—was a masterpiece of nature, round and firm, bouncing slightly as she shifted in her seat.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, her lips painted a deep crimson that matched her dress. She held her wine glass with delicate fingers, her eyes locked on me, studying me like a predator sizing up prey. ”So, Marina...” she purred, her voice smooth like honey laced with poison.

”Where did you find this specimen?” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her gaze dropping to my crotch for a brief moment before flickering back up. ”He’s quite... impressive...”