Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 396: Angela’s Dare: Watch Them Piss

I let my mouth curve into the slowest, most infuriating smile I could manage. The kind that says I know exactly how much trouble I’m causing, and I’m enjoying every second of it.

"You asked for a lighter," I said, voice mild, almost gentle. "Not a torch."

Mira’s jaw clenched so hard I could see the small muscle jump under her skin. "You absolute—"

She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she lunged forward, snatched the torch out of my fingers with enough force that our knuckles bumped, and thumbed the switch.

A hard, blue-white beam stabbed into existence.

It carved a clean tunnel through the darkness, picking out every detail in cruel high-definition: the rough bark of the nearest tree, the faint steam still rising from the cooling ground where someone had pissed earlier, the delicate spiderweb of veins on the backs of Angela’s knees as she shifted her weight.

The light swept left, then right, and for one electric instant it caught all three of them at once—hips cocked, thighs tense, the unmistakable press of full bladders against thin fabric.

Mira exhaled sharply through her nose, somewhere between a scoff and a growl.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, but she didn’t turn the light off.

She pointed it forward again, longer this time, letting the beam linger on the narrow path ahead. On the shadowy dip where the ground fell away into thicker undergrowth. On the perfect spot, maybe, for privacy that wasn’t really private anymore.

Angela gave a small, nervous laugh that didn’t sound entirely amused. Lisa crossed her arms under her breasts, shifting from foot to foot, the movement small but unmistakable.

I stayed exactly where I was—two paces behind, hands loose at my sides, the front of my jeans still shamelessly contoured—and waited to see who would break first.

The torch stayed on.

I stayed exactly where I was—two paces behind the group, hands loose at my sides, the front of my jeans still shamelessly contoured by the thick, aching ridge of my cock.

The fabric stretched tight over the swollen head, a dark wet spot blooming where pre-cum had soaked through during the walk. Every step made it throb harder against the denim, begging for release. I waited, breath slow and controlled, to see who would break first.

The torch stayed on—Mira’s trembling hand still clutching it like a lifeline, the bright white beam slicing ahead, catching flashes of tree trunks, low branches, and the occasional glint of dew on leaves. The light made the night feel smaller, more intimate, more dangerous.

We walked forward for two tense minutes—Angela’s hips swaying deliberately in front, Lisa’s steady stride beside her, Mira sandwiched between them, her thighs brushing together with every step as if trying to soothe the growing ache between her legs.

Angela stopped abruptly beside a massive old oak, its trunk wide enough to hide three people easily. The roots sprawled like thick fingers into the earth. She turned, the torch beam swinging across her face, highlighting the wicked gleam in her eyes.

"This is it," she purred, voice low and suggestive. "We can do it behind the tree... nice and private. No need to hold it in any longer."

The double meaning landed like a slap—do it sounding less like relieving bladders and more like fucking in the shadows. My cock jumped visibly in my jeans.

Angela glanced back at me, then at the others. "Let’s all go together... and Dexter will keep a lookout here. Make sure nothing sneaks up on us while we... let go."

Mira’s breath caught. "But..."

Angela tilted her head, lips curving into a teasing smile. "Are you worried he would peek in...?" She let the word linger, filthy and inviting, her eyes flicking to my crotch where the outline of my erection strained obscenely. "See everything we’re doing back there?"

Mira blushed violently—color flooding her cheeks, down her neck, even visible in the torchlight. Her eyes darted to me—wide, conflicted—lingering on the thick bulge, the way my hand twitched as if wanting to stroke it right there.

She pressed her thighs together harder, a tiny whimper almost escaping.

Angela laughed softly, stepping closer to Mira and brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Okay then... You and Lisa go together. I’ll keep an eye on him."

She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, loud enough for me to hear. "Make sure he behaves... or doesn’t. Once you’re done letting it all out, I’ll go. Okay?"

Lisa and Mira exchanged a quick glance. Lisa—still in her tight bodyguard suit, the fabric hugging every curve—gave a small nod. Mira, in her ladies’ pants that clung to her hips and ass, swallowed hard.

Both knew what came next: unzipping, sliding fabric down thighs, squatting with legs parted, pussies exposed to the cool air—and to the possibility of that torch beam swinging back.

They nodded silently. Mira had the flashlight, and she walked behind the tree, followed by Lisa. The torch beam bobbed with Mira’s steps until it disappeared around the massive trunk.

Rustling fabric followed—zippers, pants sliding down, soft breaths hitching as skin met night air.

Angela turned to me the instant they were out of sight. She stepped close, body pressing against mine, one hand sliding down to grab my cock over the pants—fingers wrapping firmly around the cock, squeezing the swollen length while her thumb pressed hard against my balls, rolling them slowly.

She leaned in, lips brushing my ear, hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "Husband... why don’t you go and peek? Take a look..." Her voice was pure slutty invitation.

"You’re so fucking hard already... throbbing like you’re about to burst just thinking about their wet little pussies out there, legs spread, streams hissing in the torchlight..."

She squeezed harder, stroking once through the fabric—slow, deliberate—milking another bead of pre-cum to the tip.

"Are you excited, hmm? Imagining Mira’s shy blush while she tries to hide her dripping cunt... or Lisa’s calm spread, letting it flow without shame?"

I groaned low, arms snapping around her waist. I hugged her tight, then brought my hand down hard—smacking her ass with a sharp crack that echoed softly through the trees. The flesh jiggled under my palm; she moaned, pushing back into the sting.

"I will deal with you later," I growled against her neck, teeth grazing skin.

"Don’t even think of sleeping tonight. I’m going to fuck you raw until you’re begging... and maybe let Mira watch what she’s been too shy to ask for."

Angela shivered, grinding her soaked core against my thigh. "Promise?"

Behind the tree, the torch beam flickered faintly around the trunk’s edge.

I stepped forward one pace—still hidden, but close enough to hear every sound, every stifled breath.

Angela’s hand stayed on my cock, stroking lazily. "Go on, husband... peek. You know you want to see it all."