Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

”I’ll keep you leaking... dripping... shaking... crying for it... until you’re a total mess... and then I’ll ride you even slower... grinding my wet pussy against your cock... making you feel every filthy squeeze... every throb... until you’re begging like the cum-hungry whore you are...”

Her moans got louder, mixed with dirty whispers. ”Fuck... you’re so deep... I can feel you twitching... I want you to cum so bad... but I’m not letting you...”

”I’m going to keep you right here... buried... throbbing... leaking... dripping down my thighs... all over the sheets... while I sit on your cock like the greedy little whore I am...”

”You’re going to be a shaking, whimpering mess... begging me to let you cum... and when you finally do... I’m going to flood your worthless cock with every drop of my squirt again... make you cum so hard you can’t move...”

She kept circling, slower now, her pussy clenching around me like a vice, her walls milking my cock with every torturous roll of her hips. The wet, obscene sounds of our bodies filled the room, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

”Tell me again...” she purred, her voice a dark, honeyed taunt, ”do you want to cum inside me?” Her nails dug into my chest, her hips grinding down just enough to make my cock twitch violently.

”Do you want to flood my greedy pussy like the pathetic little bitch you are?” She leaned down, her breath hot against my ear, her teeth grazing my lobe. ”Or are you too weak to even ask for it?”

I whimpered, my hips jerking up involuntarily, but she slammed her palm into my chest, pinning me down. ”Ah-ah-ah,” she tsked, her voice dripping with mock disappointment.

”Did I say you could move?” My cock pulsed inside her, desperate, leaking, but she only smirked, her pussy tightening around me like a noose.

”Or should I just keep riding you like this...” she murmured, her voice a slow, deliberate purr. ”Making you leak and drip and beg and cry...” Her hips rolled in slow, maddening circles, her clit dragging against the base of my cock, her juices dripping down my cock.

”Until you’re a total mess...” She leaned back, bracing her hands on my thighs, her pussy swallowing me whole with every downward press.

”And then maybe—maybe—I’ll let you cum...” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips curling into a cruel smile. ”Deep... inside me... while I grind on your cock... milking every last drop out of you...”

Her hips never stopped moving—slow, torturous, filthy circles that kept my cock buried deep, throbbing, leaking, desperate.

The soaked sheets beneath us were a testament to what she’d already done to me, the walls glistening with the evidence of her dominance. And she wasn’t done. Not even close.

I was shaking. Leaking. My cock twitched, my balls aching, my entire body a live wire of need. And she was going to keep me like that—teetering, begging, broken—until I was nothing but a dripping, cock-starved mess... exactly the way she wanted.

My hips betrayed me, bucking up in a futile attempt to take control, to fuck her the way my body screamed to. But Marina was faster. She grabbed my wrists, slamming them into the bed above my head, her grip punishing.

”Don’t you dare defy your master...?” Her voice was a snarl, her eyes burning with fury and something darker—pleasure. The kind that came from breaking me.

She pulled her hips back just enough to let my cock slip free, the sudden absence of her heat making me groan in protest.

”You just moved your hips...” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. ”Didn’t you?”

The cold air hit my cock, the loss of her pussy was almost painful. I whimpered, my body trembling, my mind a haze of need and shame.

”I-I’m sorry... Ma’am...” I stammered, my voice breaking, pretending to be pitiful, but we both knew the truth. I loved this. Loved the way she owned me.

”I just... I can’t control myself...” My cock jerked, a bead of pre-cum dripping onto my stomach, and Marina’s eyes darkened with sadistic delight.

”You lustful creature...” she spat, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. She reached down, wrapping her fingers around my cock, her grip tight enough to border on pain.

”Look at you...” she taunted, giving me a slow, deliberate stroke. ”Still hard for me... even after I punish you.”

She leaned down, her breath hot against my lips. ”You love this, don’t you?” Her thumb swiped over the tip of my cock, smearing the pre-cum across my skin.

”Love being my little fucktoy... my useless cocksleeve...” She squeezed harder, her nails digging into my cock, and I cried out, my back arching off the bed.

”But you will learn control...” she whispered, her voice a dark promise. ”Even if I have to break you to do it.”

She released my cock with a wet pop, the sound obscene in the heavy, suffocating silence. The loss of her heat was agony, my cock twitching, aching, as if protesting the absence of her tight, dripping cunt.

Then, without warning, she shifted, her thighs straddling my chest, her pussy hovering just above my face, the scent of her arousal thick and intoxicating.

”Since you can’t control yourself...” she purred, her voice dripping with dark amusement, ”maybe I’ll just sit on your face instead.”

I groaned, my tongue already darting out in anticipation, but she didn’t let me have it—not yet. She lowered herself slowly, her thighs squeezing my head like a vice, her pussy pressing against my lips, the heat of her almost unbearable.

”Lick,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument, her grip on my hair tightening.

”And pray I don’t decide to suffocate you.” Her hips rolled forward just enough to let me taste her, the first flick of my tongue against her clit making her hiss in pleasure.

”That’s it...” she murmured, her voice rough with desire. ”Worship me like the worthless little slut you are...”

Then—a knock at the door.

The sound was like a gunshot in the charged silence.

Marina froze, her body tensing, her pussy still pressed against my mouth. A female voice called out, muffled but clear: ”Mr. Dexter... Mr. Dexter...”

Marina’s grip on my hair turned brutal, her nails digging into my scalp as she yanked my head back. Her eyes burned with something feral—possessive.

”Answer her,” she whispered, her voice a blade wrapped in silk. She pulled back just enough to let me breathe, but her thighs still pinned me, her pussy glistening above my lips, a silent threat: This isn’t over.

I gasped, my voice ragged with need. ”Hmm... what is it?” My cock throbbed, my body trembling with the effort of holding still, of obeying.

The voice on the other side of the door was polite, professional. ”Ma’am, Madeline is asking for you... she requested your presence...”