Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 404: Flooding Angela’s Womb Raw

I slammed in one last time—deep, brutal—cockhead lodged against her cervix—and unloaded.

Thick ropes of cum erupted inside her—flooding her spasming cunt, painting her walls white, overflowing around my shaft in creamy rivulets that dripped down her thighs and soaked the torn crotch further.

Pulse after pulse jetted into her, filling her until it leaked out in messy strings with every slow grind of my hips.

Angela moaned loudly—unrestrained now, voice raw and shattered—"Fuuuck... yes... fill me... cum in my bare pussy... oh god... so much...!"

Her body convulsed—back arching, hips bucking back to take every drop, pussy milking me greedily as aftershocks rippled through her. A final squirt gushed out around my cock—mixing with my cum, dripping in thick, white strands onto the grass.

Across the fire, Mira’s eyes were squeezed shut—but her breathing was frantic, thighs rubbing frantically, fingers digging so hard into the grass that dirt stained her knuckles.

Lisa’s smile widened—she reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair from Mira’s burning cheek, whispering something too soft to hear.

Mira didn’t open her eyes.

But she didn’t move away.

She stayed—facing Lisa, trembling, soaked between her own thighs—listening to every wet sound, every broken moan, every pulse of cum filling Angela’s cunt.

She knew.

And she wanted it.

The fire crackled low—warm flames, wet denim, bare pussy leaking cum and squirt, and Mira lying there, starving, silent, waiting for her turn to break.

Angela was absolutely drenched in sweat, her skin glistening like she’d been fucked raw under the hot sun, her chest heaving up and down in ragged gasps as if she’d just run a marathon with my dick buried balls-deep inside her.

She slowly lifted herself off me, her tight, sloppy pussy reluctantly releasing my throbbing cock with a lewd, wet pop. Immediately, a thick, creamy flood of my cum gushed out of her swollen, abused cunt—hot, sticky ropes of it spilling in heavy globs, dripping down her inner thighs and splattering onto the grass below like some filthy, obscene waterfall.

The air reeked of sex: her musky arousal mixed with the salty tang of my seed, making my half-hard cock twitch at the sight.

She spun around to face me, her tits still bouncing slightly from the motion, nipples hard as fucking diamonds and begging to be sucked. Her face was flushed, a mix of post-orgasm bliss and that cute, pissed-off annoyance she got when things didn’t go perfectly.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" she hissed, glancing down at the shredded ruins of her pants clinging to her legs like torn rags.

The fabric was ripped right at the crotch from where I’d yanked it aside to pound her senseless, exposing her dripping slit to the cool evening breeze. "These are fucking destroyed. How the hell am I gonna wear this shit? Mira’s gonna see it and freak the fuck out..."

I couldn’t help but chuckle low in my throat, the sound vibrating through my chest as I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a deep, sloppy kiss. My tongue invaded her mouth, tasting the sweat on her lips, the faint bitterness of her own juices from when she’d sucked me earlier.

She moaned into it despite herself, her body still wired from the rough fucking. Pulling back just enough to speak, I murmured against her wet lips, "Don’t worry your pretty little head, slut. I’ll get you a new pair. Something tight enough to hug that juicy ass of yours."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mira stirring on the other side of the clearing. The bitch had been pretending not to notice our little outdoor fuckfest, but the second the moans and wet slapping sounds died down, she turned her head.

She squinted through the fading light, her eyes narrowing as if she were trying to play it cool, but I could see the curiosity burning there—the forbidden hunger of a so-called "good wife" wondering what it felt like to get railed like Angela just had. Our gazes locked for a heartbeat, and I made a show of looking away, like I didn’t give a shit if she watched.

I shoved my still-slick cock back into my pants, the fabric bulging obscenely from how hard I was getting again just thinking about what came next.

Standing up, I grabbed Angela’s hand and yanked her to her feet, her bare pussy lips brushing against my thigh and leaving a smear of cum. "Come with me," I said, raising my voice deliberately so it carried across the grass—loud enough for Mira’s prying ears.

I snatched the torch from the ground, its beam cutting through the growing dusk like a knife, and led Angela toward the thick cluster of trees at the edge of the clearing.

The ground was uneven, roots snagging at our feet, but I didn’t care; my mind was on the trap I was setting.

Once we were deep enough in the shadows, partially hidden by the gnarled trunks and low-hanging branches, I stopped and pressed a finger to Angela’s plump, kiss-swollen lips. "Shh, be a good girl and stay quiet," I whispered, my other hand sliding down to squeeze her ass cheek possessively.

We waited in the humid silence, the only sounds the distant chirp of crickets and the faint rustle of leaves. My cock strained against my zipper, already imagining Mira’s tight, neglected pussy clenching around it.

Thirty agonizing seconds ticked by—long enough for doubt to creep in —but sure enough, I peeked back and saw her silhouette rise hesitantly.

Mira glanced around like a guilty thief, her curvy figure outlined in the dim light, then started creeping toward us. Her steps were slow, tentative, but fuck if that didn’t make my blood run hot. She was hooked, the prude little housewife drawn in by the scent of forbidden sin.

Perfect. Time to blow her fucking mind.

I bought new pants for Angela from the SUPERMARKET STORE. They appeared in system storage.

A quick mental command and a brand-new pair of women’s cargo pants materialized in my inventory.

I pulled them out of thin air the moment Mira drew close enough to see clearly, handing them to Angela while the torch beam trembled slightly in her grip.

Mira froze mid-step, eyes wide. "How...?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "How is that even possible? And—Angela, you’re not even surprised."

Angela gave a soft, knowing laugh, her voice low and warm, "No matter how many times I watch him do impossible things, it still takes my breath away. Living with you... sometimes I almost forget he’s basically a god."