Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 233: A Mother’s Approval

I glanced down at myself, adjusting the cuffs of my black suit. The fabric was familiar, the weight of it comforting. It had been a while since I’d dressed like this—since I’d worn something that wasn’t just for comfort, but for power.

The suit was tailored, crisp, the kind of thing I used to wear daily before all of this. Before coming here.

It brought back memories—of my mother’s office, of the way I’d flirt with the MILFs who worked there, the way they’d look at me with that mix of desire and disapproval.

Standing here now, in this suit, with Jennifer and Emily beside me, it felt like I was slipping back into that old skin. Like I was back to being the man I used to be—the one who took what he wanted, who played the game and always won.

Jennifer’s eyes flicked over me, her gaze lingering just a second too long, a small, approving smile playing on her lips. The air between us felt charged, like the calm before a storm. ”You clean up well, Mike,” she murmured, her voice low and velvety, meant only for me.

There was something beneath her words—something darker, something that sent a thrill down my spine. It was a reminder that this get-together wasn’t just about polite smiles and small talk. It was about power, about secrets, about the unspoken games we were all playing.

I met her gaze, my voice smooth, almost teasing. ”Mother-in-law, you also look so beautiful.” The words slipped out effortlessly, but the effect was immediate.

Emily’s head snapped up, her eyes darting between Jennifer and me, her brow furrowing in confusion. ”What is going on with you, Mom?” she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

”You were so angry with Mike just yesterday, and now you’re... complimenting him?” She crossed her arms, her posture tense, as if she were trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t quite make sense. ”You’re not even mad anymore. You’re just... talking to him like everything’s normal.”

Jennifer’s smile faltered for a brief moment, as if Emily had caught her off guard. But she recovered quickly, her expression shifting into something softer, more maternal. She reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Emily’s ear.

”Emily, sweetheart, people can change their minds, can’t they?” she said, her voice gentle but firm. ”I was too hard on him—on both of you. I realize that now.”

Emily didn’t look convinced. She stepped back slightly, her arms still crossed. ”Just like that? Are you not even going to explain? You were so against him, Mom. You said he wasn’t good enough, that he didn’t respect me, that he—”

Jennifer sighed, her hand dropping to her side. ”I know what I said,” she interrupted, her tone carrying a weight of regret. ”And I was wrong. I let my own... prejudices cloud my judgment. But I’ve been watching you two. I see how he looks at you, Emily. I see how he treats you.”

Her eyes flicked to me for a second, something unreadable passing between us. ”He’s not the man I thought he was. And I was wrong to assume the worst.”

Emily’s expression wavered, her defiance softening. ”But Mom, you were so sure before. What changed?”

Jennifer hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress for a moment before she met Emily’s gaze head-on. ”Sometimes, people surprise you,” she said carefully. ”Sometimes, you realize you’ve misjudged someone. And sometimes... You just need to trust your daughter’s happiness more than your own fears.”

Emily’s eyes welled up, her lips trembling slightly. Without another word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Jennifer, pulling her into a tight hug. ”Mom...” she whispered, her voice muffled against Jennifer’s shoulder.

Jennifer’s arms circled Emily, holding her close. She looked at me over Emily’s shoulder, her expression a mix of guilt and something else—something that looked almost like a challenge. ”Mom is sorry for hurting you before,” she murmured into Emily’s hair. ”I was wrong, sweetheart. You were right. Mike is good for you.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands resting on Emily’s shoulders as she gave her a once-over. ”Now, don’t ruin your makeup or your dress,” she chided gently, though her eyes were still damp. ”You look stunning, and I won’t have you smudging your eyeliner before we even leave the house.”

Emily let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes carefully. ”Mom, I’m sorry too,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. ”I’m sorry for talking to you rudely. I was wrong. I should have trusted you more. Can you forgive me?”

Jennifer’s expression softened, and she cupped Emily’s face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the last traces of tears. ”Of course, I forgive you,” she said, her voice warm. ”We’re family, Emily. We make mistakes, we argue, but we always find our way back to each other. That’s what matters.”

Jennifer pressed a gentle kiss to Emily’s forehead before stepping back, her composure returning as smoothly as if she’d never lost it. ”Now, let’s go,” she said, glancing at her watch with a practiced air of urgency. ”We don’t want to be the last ones to arrive. People will talk, and I’d rather they talk about how punctual we are, not how late.”

Emily’s face lit up, her eyes shining with relief and happiness. Without hesitation, she turned to me and wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. ”Mike... Mom finally approves of us,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. ”I’m so happy.”

I gently pinched her nose, teasing her with a smile. ”Ok, ok, let’s go,” I said, my voice light but firm. ”Otherwise, do you want me to get scolded by your mom for making us late?”

Emily chuckled, pulling away but keeping her hand in mine as we turned toward the door. Together, the three of us stepped out of the house, the warm afternoon sun greeting us as we made our way to the car.

The path leading to the road wasn’t paved—just packed soil, uneven and tricky to navigate. Emily, ever the cautious one, held onto my arm for balance, her heels sinking slightly into the soft ground.

Jennifer, however, walked ahead of us, her steps slow and deliberate, her own heels clicking precariously against the uneven surface. She kept her gaze fixed downward, her brow furrowed in concentration.