Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Madeline turned onto her side to face me, her nightgown slipping off one shoulder and exposing a generous amount of her full breast. She didn’t bother fixing it. Instead, she stared at me with hungry, half-lidded eyes.

”Come closer,” she ordered softly, her tone dripping with need. When I shifted only slightly, she let out an impatient little huff. ”Don’t make me repeat myself, Dexter. I want my bodyguard right here... where I can feel safe.”

She reached out and grabbed my arm firmly, tugging me across the gap until our bodies were pressed much closer together. Her soft, full breasts mashed warmly against my side through the thin nightgown as she snuggled in possessively.

One of her smooth legs slid over mine, hooking around my thigh to lock me in place. Her hand trailed slowly down my chest, then boldly slipped under my shirt, her fingers exploring the hard ridges of my abs with obvious hunger.

”Mmm... much better,” she purred sluttily, her breath hot and sweet against my neck. ”You saved me tonight. You carried me, protected me, risked everything for me... Now you’re going to stay right here and keep me warm... and safe... all night long.”

I could smell Madeline’s intoxicating fragrance — a mix of her expensive perfume, the faint scent of her shampoo, and the natural, aroused musk of her body after the long, stressful night. It was intoxicating and feminine, wrapping around me like a drug.

For a few minutes, she seemed content to simply hold me, her fingers drawing lazy, hypnotic patterns on my stomach. But the stillness didn’t last. Her breathing grew heavier, her body shifting subtly against mine, her thigh pressing harder into my leg.

Then, her hand began to wander lower, sliding over the hard muscle of my thigh, her nails digging in just enough to tease. She squeezed, her touch possessive, as if she were testing my reactions, gauging how far she could push.

I instinctively grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she could go further. ”Ma’am... don’t.”

Madeline pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her expression a storm of emotions—arrogance, wounded pride, and something darker, needier. ”Why?” she demanded, her voice sharp, almost accusing. ”Do you think I’m old... or dirty?” The words hung in the air, heavy with challenge. Her gaze dropped to my lips, then lower, as if she were daring me to lie.

I shook my head quickly, my pulse hammering in my throat. ”It’s not that.”

”Then what is it?” she pressed, her tone a mix of command and vulnerability. Before I could form a coherent answer, her free hand shot down, pressing firmly against the growing bulge in my pants. I couldn’t stop the low, guttural groan that escaped my throat as she squeezed, her touch deliberate, knowing. ”Hmm?” she murmured, her lips curling into a wicked, satisfied smile. ”Your body is very responsive...” Her fingers traced the outline of my cock through the fabric, her thumb pressing against the head. ”See? Your cock doesn’t lie, Dexter... even if your mouth does.”

Madeline leaned in closer, her body pressing flush against mine, her nightgown doing little to hide the heat between her legs. Her lips brushed against my neck, soft at first, then firmer, her tongue darting out to trace a slow, wet path up to my ear.

The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight down my spine. She lingered there, her breath hot, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin before she gently sucked, pulling a shudder from deep in my chest.

”Mmm... you taste good,” she moaned softly, her voice vibrating against my skin. Her hand never stopped moving, her fingers working my cock through the fabric with increasing confidence, her strokes slow, deliberate, maddening.

”All night, you were so strong... so in control.” Her lips moved to my jaw, her tongue flicking out to taste me. ”Now it’s my turn to take care of you, my loyal bodyguard.”

She pressed her thigh harder against me, rubbing herself subtly against my leg, her movements growing more insistent. Her full breasts heaved against my chest, her nipples hard and aching beneath the sheer fabric of her nightgown.

I could feel the dampness of her arousal seeping through the thin material, the heat of her core a brand against my skin.

”Don’t fight it, Dexter,” she purred, her voice dripping with sin as she licked my neck again, her tongue swirling over the pulse point beneath my ear. Her teeth nipped at my earlobe, sending another wave of pleasure through me.

”I want this. I need this after everything I went through tonight.” Her hand slid lower, her fingers teasing the waistband of my pants. ”Let me feel what a real man feels like... Let me reward my hero properly.”

I was drowning in her—her scent, her touch, the way her body moved against mine like a wave. My hands found her waist, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, but I still hesitated, my mind screaming at me to pull away. ”Ma’am, we can’t—”

”We can,” she interrupted, her voice a growl. ”And we will.” Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of my pants, her fingers wrapping around my thick, throbbing cock. The contact was like a spark to dry kindling.

I hissed, my hips jerking forward involuntarily as she began to stroke me, her grip firm, her movements slow and torturous. ”Oh, Dexter...” she whispered, her voice thick with desire. ”You’re so hard for me already...”

Her leg kept me pinned in place, her body pressing closer, her nightgown riding up to expose the black lace of her panties. The once-proud, untouchable First Lady was unraveling before me, her breath coming in short, needy gasps as she pleasured me with eager, hungry movements. The sound of her soft moans filled the room, mingling with the rustle of the sheets as she shifted against me, her body making it clear she had no intention of stopping.

”You’ve been so good all night,” she murmured, her lips trailing down to my collarbone, her teeth scraping lightly against my skin. ”So strong. So loyal.” Her hand tightened around my cock, her thumb swiping over the head, collecting the bead of precum that had formed. ”Now let me show you how good I can be to you.”

She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her own dark with lust, her cheeks flushed. ”Tell me you don’t want this,” she challenged, her voice a whisper. ”Tell me you don’t want me.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat. My cock throbbed in her hand, my body aching with need.

Madeline’s smile was triumphant, her lips parting as she leaned in to capture my mouth in a searing, hungry kiss. Her tongue was bold, demanding, her taste sweet and intoxicating as she deepened the kiss, her hand never stopping its slow, torturous strokes.

When she finally pulled back, her breath was ragged, her eyes glazed with desire. ”That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her voice a purr. ”Now...” Her free hand slid between us, her fingers teasing the waistband of her panties. ”Let me show you how thankful I can be.”