Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 406: Angela: It’s Dirty There

"W-what about this hole...?" I drawled, voice low and filthy, making sure every word carried through the trees to our hidden audience. I circled the rim teasingly, feeling the little muscle flutter under the pressure.

"You’ve been such a good slut with your pussy tonight... but this greedy little ass hasn’t had any attention yet, has it?"

Angela panicked instantly, voice cracking. "N... No—wait—that’s... that’s not— it’s dirty there, please—" Her words tumbled out in a frantic rush, thighs clenching together as if she could hide the hole I was already teasing open.

I didn’t wait for permission.

I pushed.

My thumb sank in past the first knuckle with a slow, relentless pressure—her asshole resisting for one tight, fluttering second before it gave way with a soft, wet pop.

The heat inside was scorching, velvet walls clamping down around the intrusion like they were trying to suck me deeper.

Angela’s back arched violently. "Aaah—fuck—!" The moan ripped out of her, raw and broken, echoing off the trunks. Her knees buckled; she had to brace both hands against the tree in front of her, ass pushed out toward me in helpless surrender.

Her pussy—still leaking thick ropes of my earlier load—clenched visibly, another creamy dribble sliding down her inner thigh and dripping onto the dirt.

"See?" I growled, twisting my thumb slowly inside her, feeling the tight ring spasm around it. "Not so dirty when it’s clenching like this, is it? Your ass is fucking starving for it."

I leaned over her back, lips brushing her ear while I pumped my thumb in shallow, filthy strokes. "Tell me the truth, slut. Tell me how bad this little virgin hole wants to get stretched and filled just like your cunt did."

Angela’s head dropped forward, hair curtaining her face, but I could hear the shame and lust warring in her voice. "I... I can’t—fuck—it’s too much—aaah—god, it burns so good—" She rocked back instinctively, pushing herself onto my thumb even as she whimpered denials.

I laughed low and dark, the sound rumbling from my chest as I worked that second finger deeper alongside the first, scissoring slowly, deliberately, stretching Angela’s tight asshole wider with every lazy twist.

Her ring clenched and fluttered around my knuckles, making those lewd, wet sucking noises that echoed softly in the still night air—greedy little pulls that betrayed how badly her body wanted it, even if her mouth kept whining denials. The heat inside her was obscene, velvet walls gripping me like they never wanted to let go.

But then I glanced sideways—and there she was. Mira had retreated fully behind the thick trunk now, no longer peeking.

Just hidden. Completely out of sight. Only the faint, irregular hitch of her breathing gave her away—quick, shallow pants she was trying (and failing) to muffle. She wasn’t watching anymore.

She was listening. Every filthy sound, every wet squelch, every word we said. Probably with one hand clamped over her mouth and the other shoved down the front of her jeans, fingers buried in her soaked cunt, rubbing herself raw while she pretended she could still walk away with her dignity intact.

Angela’s voice cut through suddenly, high and breathless, almost pleading.

"Husband... don’t... it’s gonna be morning soon..." She squirmed, ass cheeks trembling under my grip.

"If you take my asshole right now... how am I even gonna have the energy left to lift myself tomorrow? Mira and Lisa—if they found out I let you wreck my ass out here in the dirt—they’d definitely laugh at me... it would be so fucking embarrassing..."

She twisted in my arms, suddenly pressing herself tight against my chest, hugging me hard like she was clinging to the last shred of control. Her sweat-slick tits mashed against me, nipples like little bullets through her shirt. Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper, lips brushing my neck.

"Husband... I promise—I swear—I’ll give you my asshole when we find somewhere safe. Somewhere private. This place... It’s not good. I’m afraid... I couldn’t help but scream if you fucked it right now. And that would alert Mira... or Lisa... they’d hear everything..."

I stilled my fingers inside her, feeling the frantic pulse of her hole around them. Then slowly—agonizingly—I pulled them free with a wet pop that made her whimper and clench on nothing. Her asshole stayed slightly gaped for a heartbeat, pink and glistening, before it winked shut again.

I brought my thumb—the one that had been knuckle-deep in her ass—to my nose and inhaled deeply, sniffing the faint, musky earthiness of her.

Angela’s face went scarlet in an instant, eyes wide, mortified, and turned on in equal measure.

I smirked.

She didn’t hesitate.

She grabbed my wrist, pulled my hand to her mouth, and—blushing so hard I could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks—wrapped her soft lips around my thumb.

She sucked it clean with slow, deliberate swirls of her tongue, tasting herself on me, eyes locked on mine the whole time. When she finally pulled off with a soft pop, a thin string of spit connected her lip to my skin.

"It’s... clean now..." she mumbled, voice tiny and embarrassed, but her pupils were blown wide with lust.

I cupped the back of her head and kissed her hard—deep, possessive, tasting the faint tang of her own ass on her tongue.

She moaned into my mouth, melting against me like she’d forgotten how to stand on her own.

When we broke apart, both breathing ragged, she bent to grab the crumpled, cum-soaked panties from the grass. She stepped into them slowly, shimmying the drenched fabric up her thighs until it cupped her leaking pussy again.

Then came the new pants—sleek, black, hugging every curve like they were made for her. She zipped them up, but the dark wet spot was already blooming fresh at the crotch, my load still seeping out of her in slow, sticky trickles.

She looked up at me, biting her lip, suddenly practical in the middle of all the filth.

"What are we gonna tell Mira and Lisa? How did I suddenly get these new pants? They’re gonna ask..."

I shrugged, casual as hell, but my voice carried just far enough that Mira—still hidden, still listening—would catch every word.

"Just make some excuse. Tell them we found it somewhere. Simple. They won’t push. Not when they see how wrecked you look anyway—hair messed up, lips swollen, walking like your cunt’s still throbbing from getting pounded."