Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 204: Emily’s Ovulating Pussy

I could smell her arousal—sweet, intoxicating. My cock twitched beneath the towel, my mind flooding with filthy images of bending her over, fucking her senseless, making her moan while her mother listened from the next room.

I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear, my voice a dark, velvety growl.

”Wife... tonight...” I murmured, my hand sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against me. ”I want you.”

Emily’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing crimson. ”B-But we have to wait...” she whispered, her fingers clenching the towel at my waist. ”Till Mom and Dad fall asleep...” Her voice dropped to a husky murmur, her eyes flicking toward the door. ”You know how thin these walls are...” Her lips parted, her tongue darting out to wet them. ”I don’t wanna be caught by them...”

My cock pulsed, my mind racing with the thought of fucking her right here, right now, making her scream while her mother listened from the other side of the wall.

”Then we’ll be quiet,” I growled, my hand sliding down to grip her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. ”But tonight...” My lips brushed her neck, my teeth grazing her skin. ”You’re mine.”

I chuckled darkly, my cock straining against the fabric, my mind already imagining the way she’d moan when I finally shoved it inside her.

”We haven’t had the time since we arrived here...” she murmured, her fingers sliding lower, dangerously close to the towel barely covering my throbbing cock. ”And today...” Her voice dropped to a husky, desperate whisper, her breath hitching as she pressed herself against me.

”Today I’m ovulating...” Her eyes locked onto mine, her lips parting as she bit her lower lip, her pussy already dripping just from the thought. ”So we might as well try to make me pregnant... who knows, maybe this time it’ll take...”

My cock pulsed, the idea of breeding her, of filling her fertile pussy with my seed, sending a jolt of raw, primal lust through me. I could almost smell her arousal—sweet, musky, intoxicating—her body aching for me, her womb begging to be claimed.

”I want it so bad, Mike...” she whispered, her fingers tightening on my towel, her thighs pressing together as if trying to ease the ache between them.

”I need it...” Her voice was a pleading moan, her hips rolling against me, her pussy so wet I could practically feel it through the thin fabric of her shorts.

”Please... tonight... breed me...” Her eyes burned with desperation, her breath coming in short, needy gasps. ”I want your baby... I need it inside me...”

I growled, my hands gripping her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I pulled her flush against me, my cock straining against the towel. ”You’re sure you want that, Emily?” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear, my voice a dark, velvety growl. ”You want me to fill that tight little pussy of yours... breed you like an animal...?”

”Y-Yes...” she whimpered, her body trembling against mine, her fingers clawing at my chest. ”I want it... I need it...” Her voice was a broken moan, her eyes glazed with lust.

”I’ve been thinking about it all day...” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips as she pressed her body closer, her breasts crushing against my chest.

”I want you to ruin me... to knock me up...” Her hands slid down, her fingers teasing the waistband of my towel, her breath hitching as she imagined me inside her. ”Please, Mike... tonight...”

But before I could push her onto the bed and fuck her senseless, a voice cut through the thick sexual tension.

”Emily! Mike! Dinner is ready!”

Mother-In-Law’s voice—smooth, commanding, and laced with impatience—echoed from the kitchen.

Emily whimpered in frustration, her fingers lingering on my towel for a painfully long moment before she pulled away, her cheeks flushed and her breath ragged. ”Let’s go...” she whispered, her eyes locked on mine, promising what was to come later. ”Don’t keep Mom waiting...”

I watched as she turned, her ass swaying in those tight denim shorts, her hips rolling with every step, her pussy still dripping with need. I adjusted the towel, my cock aching as I imagined what it would feel like to breed her tonight, to fill her ovulating pussy with my seed until she was knocked up and whimpering my name.

I quickly pulled on the clothes Emily had laid out—a pair of loose pajama pants that did nothing to hide the bulge of my cock, and a snug t-shirt that clung to my abs, the fabric stretching over my muscles. I stepped out of the room just in time to see a man walking in.

He nodded at me, his voice approving. ”Mike, you did a great job today. I heard the report from Angela. Keep it up.”

I nodded back, my mind still replaying Emily’s desperate pleas, her body begging to be filled. I realised he must be Emily’s father.

Emily’s father didn’t wait for a response, striding past me toward the kitchen where Emily and Jennifer were. ”Jennifer, what are we having for dinner?” he asked, his voice warm but authoritative.

Jennifer’s voice floated out, smooth and teasing. ”Oliver, you’re back. Today is your favorite dish. Why don’t you go change your clothes, and then have dinner?”

Oliver nodded, disappearing into the room next to ours. This house wasn’t big—just a small, cozy space with thin walls and creaky floors, the kind where every moan would be heard.

Jennifer’s gaze flicked to me, her eyes narrowing slightly, her lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ”Mike, what are you doing standing there?” she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ”Come help me bring those dishes out.”

I watched as she turned, her ass swaying in that tight pencil skirt, her hips moving with a rhythm that made my cock twitch again. She clearly didn’t like Mike much—but that didn’t stop me from imagining bending her over the kitchen counter, lifting that skirt, and fucking her until she screamed my name.

”Coming,” I said, my voice low, my gaze locked on the way her skirt hugged her curves, my mind already racing with filthy possibilities.

Jennifer stood at the counter, her back to me as she stacked plates with practiced efficiency. The pencil skirt she wore clung to her wide, luscious hips, the fabric straining over her round, firm ass—so tight I could see the faint outline of her thong beneath it.