Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 548: Denied at the Brink of Spurting

Before I could even gasp, Diana leaned in again, her tongue snaking out like a serpent to catch the throbbing tip of my cock as it slipped, wet and glistening, from between Angela’s crushed tits.

The sight alone made my hips twitch—her lips, swollen and slick, parting just enough to take me in with a lewd schlick, her tongue swirling around the ridge of my head in slow, deliberate circles.

The heat of her mouth, the flick of her tongue—it was like she was tasting me, savoring every inch.

"Mmmph—fuck, you’re so hard," she groaned against my skin, her voice vibrating through my cock, straight to my balls.

"But I bet you’d taste even better if Angela here helped me out a little more, wouldn’t you?" Her fingers tightened around the base, her thumb pressing into the thick vein pulsing along my length, as if she were claiming me.

Angela’s breath hitched, her chest heaving as she watched Diana’s tongue trace the slit of my cock, lapping up the pre-cum beading there. Her own nipples, stiff and aching, brushed against my skin with every movement, sending jolts of pleasure through me.

"Fuck," she whispered, her voice rough with need, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. "Diana, you—"

"Shhh," Diana interrupted, pulling back with a wet, obscene pop, her lips glistening, a string of saliva still connecting her tongue to my cock. She licked her lips, her eyes dark with hunger.

"Just focus on him. Let’s see how deep we can make him ache." Her grin was wicked, her fingers sliding down to join Angela’s, both of them now gripping the base of my cock, their thumbs brushing against each other as they worked in tandem. "Ready?"

Angela’s eyes burned with a mix of defiance and desire. She didn’t answer with words.

Instead, she leaned forward, her tits pressing tighter around my cock, the damp lace of her bra still clinging to her skin, doing nothing to hide the way her nipples hardened at the contact. "Yeah..." she breathed, her voice thick, her gaze locked onto mine.

Diana didn’t hesitate. She dove back down, her mouth sealing around the tip of my cock as Angela’s tits swallowed the rest.

The two of them moved in perfect, sinful rhythm—Angela’s tits squeezing me as she lifted, Diana’s mouth taking over as she descended, their tongues and skin working me over in a way that made my vision blur.

The room was a symphony of filth—the squelch of Diana’s mouth, the slap-slap of Angela’s tits against my skin, the wet, sloppy schlick-schlick of Diana’s tongue as she lapped at me between each thrust.

"That’s it," Diana moaned around my cock, her voice muffled but dripping with satisfaction. "Take him deeper, Angela... Let’s make him beg for it."

Her free hand slid down, her fingers joining Angela’s, both of them now stroking the base of my cock in time with their movements, their thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin beneath the head.

I groaned, my hips bucking involuntarily, my fingers tangling in Angela’s hair as I pulled her closer, forcing her tits to squeeze me even tighter.

"Fuck—just like that," I growled, my voice rough, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The pleasure was too much—their mouths, their hands, their bodies all working together to push me to the edge.

Angela’s eyes darkened with a new kind of hunger. She could feel how close I was, the way my cock twitched in her cleavage, the way my breath hitched with every movement.

She bit her lip, her own arousal dripping down her thighs, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she leaned in, her voice a low, husky whisper. "You like that, Dexter? You like the way we’re owning you?"

Diana pulled back just enough to grin, her lips swollen, her chin glistening with saliva. "Oh, he loves it," she purred, her fingers tightening around my cock. "Don’t you, baby?"

I couldn’t answer. My body was coiled tight, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. I could feel it—my release, right there, just a few more strokes away. My muscles tensed, my toes curled, and I knew I was about to—

Angela’s hand slammed down on the base of my cock, her grip like iron, cutting off the flow just as the first spasm of my orgasm ripped through me.

"Not yet," she growled, her voice low and possessive, her eyes locked onto Diana’s. "You have to satisfy your wife first."

Diana’s breath hitched, her cheeks burning a deep, delicious crimson. The word wife had struck her like a whip—sharp, sudden, and impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just a title. It was a claim.

A reminder of her place in my world, in my bed, in my life. And the way Angela had said it—like a challenge, like a dare—sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between her thighs, her panties already damp with need.

I didn’t let her dwell on it for long.

In one swift, possessive motion, I pulled her against me, my lips crashing onto hers in a kiss that was all hunger and domination.

She melted into me, her body arching as my cock—still hard, still aching—pressed against the softness of her stomach. The heat of her skin seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, and I could feel how wet she already was, how ready.

I broke the kiss only to trail my lips down her neck, my teeth grazing her pulse point just enough to make her gasp. "Mmm, you taste so good, Diana," I murmured against her skin, my voice a low, dark growl.

She moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair as I worked my way lower, my hands already sliding beneath the hem of her dress.

I pushed it up, peeling it off her body inch by inch, revealing the smooth, golden skin beneath.

The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing before me in nothing but her dark blue bra and panties—a matching set, delicate and lacy, with intricate embroidery that traced the curves of her hips and the swell of her breasts.

But it wasn’t the embroidery that held my attention.

It was the wetness.

A dark, spreading stain bloomed at the crotch of her panties, the fabric clinging to her, soaked through with her arousal. The scent of her need filled the air—thick, sweet, intoxicating. And her nipples—hard, aching points—pressed against the lace, begging for my touch.

I couldn’t resist.

My fingers traced the damp spot, pressing lightly against the fabric, and I felt her jolt, her breath hitching as I teased her. "What’s this, Diana?" I murmured, my voice dripping with false innocence.

"Why is there sticky water down there?" I circled the spot again, my touch feather-light, maddening. "Did you get this wet just from watching me with Angela?"

Diana’s face burned even hotter, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. She knew I was teasing her, tormenting her.

"Y-You... hmm... don’t tease me..." she stammered, her voice breathy, her hips shifting restlessly as if she could escape my touch. But she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t.

My eyes traveled upward, and that’s when I noticed it—her armpits. Dark, soft curls peeked out from beneath her arms, a wild, untamed contrast to the rest of her flawless body.

My cock twitched at the sight. There was something so fucking hot about it—this raw, unfiltered part of her, something she hadn’t bothered to hide or perfect for me.