Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

I leaned forward slightly in the comfortable armchair and asked, ”What is it, Doctor... that you want to know?”

Doctor Bridgette offered a reassuring smile, her dark black hair shifting gracefully over one shoulder. ”Don’t be nervous... ” It’s just a formality,” she said calmly, her voice smooth and soothing like a practiced therapist.

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs slowly, the tailored black pants hugging her figure as she adjusted her posture. The movement caused her already partially unbuttoned white blouse to shift again, drawing my eyes momentarily to the deep, inviting cleavage visible beneath her crisp white coat.

I nodded, trying to stay focused on the professional nature of the conversation.

She continued in a gentle, probing tone. ”Do you think there was another way... that things could have played out differently? A path where you might have minimized the risk to a much greater level—for yourself, for Agent Daisy, and especially for Madeline?”

I paused for a moment, reflecting honestly on the night’s chaos. ”I don’t know... In those moments, I didn’t get much time to think. It was more of an instinctive reaction — to protect them in any way possible.”

Doctor Bridgette nodded thoughtfully, jotting a few notes on her pad. Her intelligent eyes remained locked on mine, studying my expressions carefully.

The top three open buttons of her blouse continued to reveal the soft, alluring curve of her breasts with every small movement she made. She leaned forward slightly, her coat parting just a little more as she spoke.

”Instinctive reactions under extreme stress often reveal a lot about a person’s core priorities,” she observed. ”It sounds like your priority was clear: their survival above all else, even at great personal risk. That’s commendable, Mr. Dexter.”

She paused briefly, tapping her pen against the notepad before offering a small, warm smile. ”Okay... Thank you, Mr. Dexter. That would be all. We are done for now.”

I nodded and began to stand.

Before I could leave, Doctor Bridgette reached into her desk drawer and slid a small prescription slip across the table toward me. ”I’ve prescribed you a mild sleeping pill. You can take it if you find yourself unable to sleep tonight. Otherwise, there’s no issue if you don’t need it.”

I accepted the slip with a nod. ”Thank you.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs once more in that elegant, confident manner. ”Well... about your psych evaluation — I don’t see any signs that would prevent you from continuing your duties. You demonstrate exceptional composure, clear decision-making under duress, and a strong protective instinct. I’ll officially send the report to the security team. No need to worry about that.”

A wave of quiet relief washed over me. ”Thank you, Doctor...”

Doctor Bridgette smiled again, this time with a slightly warmer, almost inviting expression. ”Well... you can come see me anytime,” she added, her voice dropping just a touch. ”I mean, other than these official encounters. Anyone in the White House can come to us for a normal chat... or even personal things. My door is always open if you ever need to talk — professionally or otherwise.”

I nodded, meeting her gaze. ”I’ll keep that in mind.”

The session ended on that note. As I stood up and moved toward the door, I couldn’t help but notice how Doctor Bridgette remained seated, watching me with that same poised, intelligent look. Her dark black hair framed her face beautifully, and the deep cleavage visible through her open blouse added an undeniable layer of subtle tension to the otherwise professional atmosphere. She gave me one final, lingering smile before I stepped out and closed the door softly behind me.

I walked down the quiet hallway, the weight of the long night still heavy on my shoulders. As I turned the corner toward the main residential wing, I saw Madeline standing there waiting. The moment her eyes landed on me, they lit up with visible relief and warmth. She looked much better after her therapy session and medical care — freshly changed into comfortable clothes, though the bandages on her knees were still visible beneath her skirt.

”Let’s go back,” she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet urgency as she stepped closer to me. ”I just want to be somewhere familiar right now.”

We walked side by side through the elegant corridors of the White House residential area. The soft lighting and luxurious surroundings felt like a world away from the blood, bullets, and crashing helicopters of the previous night. Madeline stayed close, occasionally brushing her arm against mine for reassurance.

As we entered the private family living room, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Marina was already there, pacing anxiously. The moment she saw her mother, she rushed forward, her face etched with worry and agitation. She clearly already knew about the attack — news traveled fast in these secure circles.

”Mom... are you okay?” Marina asked, her voice tight with concern. She reached out and gently touched Madeline’s arm. ”You didn’t get hurt, did you? They told me there was shooting and a helicopter crash—”

Madeline didn’t get angry or defensive. Instead, she pulled her daughter into a gentle hug and spoke softly, reassuringly. ”I am fine, sweetheart. Really. A few scrapes and bruises, but nothing serious. Thanks to Dexter.”

Marina’s eyes immediately shifted to me. She scanned me up and down carefully, searching for any visible injuries, her expression a complex mix of gratitude and lingering suspicion. Behind her, Lila, Cindy, and Beth stood watching the scene unfold. The three younger women had clearly been waiting anxiously as well.

Lila’s gaze was particularly intense. I could see complex emotions swirling in her eyes — relief that we had returned safely, worry for her mother, and something deeper, perhaps a flicker of jealousy or unresolved tension as she looked between Madeline and me. Cindy and Beth exchanged quiet glances, their faces showing a mixture of shock and curiosity about the night’s events.

Marina stepped back from the hug but kept one hand on her mother’s shoulder. ”I can’t believe this happened. They said it was a serious assassination attempt. How did you even get out of there?”

Madeline sighed tiredly but managed a small smile. ”It was... terrifying. But Dexter protected us every step of the way. He carried both Daisy and me to safety when things went wrong. I wouldn’t be standing here without him.”

Lila finally spoke up, her voice quieter than usual. ”You both look exhausted... and hurt.” Her eyes lingered on the bandages visible on Madeline’s legs, then moved to me again, studying my bandaged forearm from Daisy’s bite. The complex emotions in her gaze deepened — a blend of concern, curiosity, and something almost possessive.

Cindy stepped forward hesitantly. ”Is Daisy going to be okay?”

”She’s stable and recovering,” I answered. ”The medical team here is taking excellent care of her.”

Beth remained slightly behind the others, watching everything with wide eyes, still processing the gravity of what had nearly happened to her mother.

Madeline reached out and gently squeezed my hand in front of her daughters. ”We’re all safe now. That’s what matters. I think we all need some rest after tonight.”