Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 685: Madeline’s Nasty Farts

I bottomed out, my balls pressing against her, and we both froze for a second, the intensity of the moment stealing our breath.

Then, she let out a broken, sobbing scream. ”Fuck—fuck, I’m full... I’m so full...” Her asshole pulsed around me, and a sharp, wet prrrt escaped her, the sudden burst of air making her clench even tighter. ”Oh my god... did I just—ahh—fuck, I can’t help it... your cock’s making me—nngh—”

Another gush of fluid sprayed from her, the wet sound of it hitting the sheets below us. I couldn’t hold back any longer.

I pulled back slowly, savoring the drag of her tight hole around my cock, then slammed back in with a sharp, wet slap. She screamed, her voice raw, her body jerking forward with the force of it.

”Ahh—fuck! Fuck, yes! Fuck me harder... fuck my asshole like the slut I am!” I groaned, my hips snapping forward, my cock pistoning in and out of her in deep, punishing strokes. Each thrust was met with a wet, obscene squelch, the sound of her asshole taking me, stretching around me, owning me.

”Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna come!” she wailed, her voice breaking. ”I’m gonna come on your cock... ahh—fuck, I’m squirting again—nngh—” Another violent pulse of fluid erupted from her, soaking my balls, the sheets, everything.

The wet, sloppy sounds of her arousal filled the room, and I could feel her trembling, her body shuddering as pleasure wracked her. ”Fuck, I can’t—ahh—I can’t stop... I’m coming so hard... fuck, your cock’s making me—brrrt—ahh—fuck!”

Another fart escaped her, the vibration of it making her clench even tighter around me, and I groaned, my own release building, coiling tight in my gut.

”Fuck, Madeline... I’m gonna come...” My voice was a low, desperate growl, my hips stuttering as I fucked her harder, deeper. ”I’m gonna come inside your tight asshole...”

She let out a broken, sobbing scream, her body arching as she pushed back against me, taking every inch. ”Yes! Fuck—come inside me... fill my asshole with your cum... ahh—fuck, I want it... I need it...”

Her voice was a desperate, needy whine, her hole clenching around me, milking me, begging for my release. I could feel it—the edge, the inevitable crash—and then, with a sharp, animalistic scream, I came. My cock twitched, my balls drawing up tight as the first thick, hot rope of cum erupted inside her.

”Ahh—FUCK!” Madeline screamed, her voice raw, her body convulsing as my release filled her. ”Fuck, I can feel it... I can feel you coming inside me... ahh—fuck, yes! More... give me more...”

I groaned, my hips jerking as I emptied myself into her, my cock pulsing with each thick, hot spurt. Her asshole clenched around me, milking me dry, and she let out another broken, sobbing scream as her own orgasm crashed over her.

”Ahh—fuck, I’m coming... I’m coming on your cock... nngh—fuck, I’m squirting everywhere...” Another gush of fluid sprayed from her, mixing with my cum as it dripped from her stretched, well-used hole.

The room was a mess of sounds—wet, obscene squelches, the slapping of skin, our ragged breaths, her screams, my groans, the sharp, sudden pffft of her farts escaping as her body relaxed in the aftermath.

I collapsed on top of her, my cock still twitching inside her, my face buried in the sweat-slicked skin of her neck. She was trembling, her body spent, her hole still pulsing around me as the last of my cum dripped from her, warm and thick, seeping between her thighs.

The air was thick with the scent of sex—musky, salty, and intoxicating, the kind of scent that clung to the skin and lingered in the sheets long after the act was over.

”Fuck...” she breathed, her voice hoarse, her fingers weakly tracing circles on my back. The touch was lazy, almost absentminded, as if she was too exhausted to do more than just feel me. ”Fuck, that was... ahh... that was amazing...”

I groaned in agreement, my body heavy, my mind blank with satisfaction. Every muscle in my body felt like it had melted, and the only thing keeping me from sinking into the mattress was the way her body still clung to mine, as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

The sheets beneath us were a mess—damp with sweat, slick with her arousal, and sticky with the remnants of our release. The room was a symphony of aftermath: the faint squelch of fluid shifting between her thighs, the ragged rhythm of our breathing, the occasional pfft of air escaping her as her body relaxed.

And then, with a soft, wet prrt, she farted again, the sudden noise making us both laugh weakly. The sound was obscene, but in that moment, it was perfect—raw, unfiltered, real. It was the kind of sound that should have been embarrassing, but after everything we’d just done, it only made me love her more.

”Oh my god...” she giggled, her asshole clenching around my softening cock, as if her body was still trying to milk me dry. ”I’m such a mess...”

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, my voice thick with exhaustion and contentment. ”Yeah... you are.” My lips brushed against her skin, and I could feel the way her breathing was slowing, her body relaxing beneath me. The tension in her muscles melted away, replaced by a boneless, sated heaviness.

She let out a long, shaky sigh, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer. ”I am... so tired...” Her voice was barely a whisper, her words slurring as fatigue pulled at her.

I could feel her body growing heavier, her movements slower, as if she were already half-asleep.

The way she spoke—playful, breathless, almost girlish—made it hard to believe she was a woman in her fifties. There was no trace of age in her voice, no weariness in her touch. She was alive, vibrant, hungry—even now, in the aftermath.

Without a word, I shifted, rolling slightly to the side so I wouldn’t crush her, but I kept her close, my arm draped over her waist.

My face found its way to her chest, and I nuzzled against the soft, warm weight of her tits, my breath hot against her skin.

They were still slick with sweat, the nipples hard from the chill of the air, and I pressed my lips to one, kissing it gently before letting my head rest between them. The scent of her—salt and musk and something uniquely her—filled my nose, and I inhaled deeply, as if I could memorize it.

She let out a soft, contented hum, her fingers still tangled in my hair as she pulled me even closer, as if she wanted to absorb me into her. ”Mmm... stay like this...” she mumbled, her voice already fading.

I could feel her chest rising and falling beneath my face, the steady rhythm lulling me toward sleep. The last thing I remembered was the way her fingers loosened their grip on my hair, her breathing evening out as she drifted off.

And then, there was nothing but the warmth of her skin, the scent of her, and the deep, dreamless sleep that pulled us both under.