Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Ada bit her lip, her eyes flickering between me and her daughter’s limp body. ”Dexter... does cumming mean... that when my daughter peed...?” Her voice trailed off, her gaze landing on the mess we were all covered in—Ruth’s squirt had drenched us completely, soaking through Kerry’s skirt, dripping down my chest, even glistening in Ada’s hair.

She looked at us, her expression a mix of horror and fascination. ”Dexter... Kerry... I’m so sorry for my daughter...” Her voice was thick with shame, her fingers twitching like she wanted to reach out and clean the mess but didn’t dare.

I stepped closer, my voice dropping into a low, reassuring tone. ”Aunt Ada... It’s okay...” I reached out, my fingers brushing against her shoulder, my touch gentle but possessive.

”Actually... that means Sister Ruth felt really happy... and really good... when my cock was inside her...” I smirked, my gaze darkening with lust. ”That’s why she came... I call it squirting... ”

Ada’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock and fascination. ”S-squirting...?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the word itself was forbidden, taboo, something she’d never dared to imagine. Her gaze flicked between me and Ruth’s unconscious, spent body, her daughter’s release still glistening on the stone, on my skin, proof of something she’d never known existed.

I nodded, my hand sliding down her arm, my fingers tracing slow, teasing circles on her skin, feeling the way she shivered beneath my touch. ”Yeah...” I murmured, my voice dropping into something darker, more intimate, like a secret meant only for her.

”Some women... when they come really hard... when they let go completely... their bodies release like that...” My fingers trailed lower, brushing against the top of her thigh, teasing the edge of her pussy, feeling the heat radiating from her. ”It’s the highest kind of pleasure... the kind that breaks you... in the best way...”

Ada’s breath hitched, her thighs pressing together as my fingers inched closer to where she ached, where she burned. ”I-I’ve never...” she stammered, her voice trembling, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing.

She turned to Kerry, her eyes searching for some kind of confirmation, some kind of understanding, and I followed her gaze.

Kerry bit her lip, her fingers twisting in the leaves of her skirt, her own arousal betraying her. She shook her head, her voice soft but honest. ”No... I’ve never felt it either...”

The silence in the room was thick, suffocating, charged with a raw, electric tension that made the air hum with unspoken desire. Ada and Kerry both looked down, their shoulders slumping just slightly, as if the realization of what they’d missed—what they’d never experienced—was weighing on them, crushing them in the best, most tantalizing way. The scent of sex—Ruth’s squirt, the musk of arousal, the metallic tang of her broken virginity—still lingered, intoxicating, unavoidable.

I couldn’t let that stand.

Kerry’s gaze suddenly dropped, her eyes locking onto my cock—still rock-hard, throbbing, glistening with Ruth’s release and my own pre-cum. Her lips parted, her tongue darting out to wet them, her voice breathy, husky, thick with lust.

”Dexter...” she murmured, her fingers twitching at her sides, betraying her need. ”Your cock... It’s still so hard... You haven’t released your seed yet...” Her eyes flicked up to mine, dark and hungry. ”You must be aching for it...”

I let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, pretending to be disappointed, my hand rubbing the back of my neck as if frustrated. ”I...” I started, my voice laced with fake regret, ”When I felt like my seed was about to burst inside her... Ruth squirting pushed my cock out... so I couldn’t finish...” I glanced down at my throbbing cock, giving it a slow, deliberate stroke, making sure they both saw how badly I needed release.

Ada’s eyes flicked to mine, her expression softening with something like guilt—and something else, something darker, something hungrier. ”Dexter...” she said, her voice gentle, apologetic, but her eyes were glued to my cock, betraying her true thoughts. ”I’m so sorry Ruth couldn’t fulfill her duty as your woman... I, as her mother, should have—”

The air between us was thick, suffocating—charged with the kind of tension that made skin prickle and breath come shallow. My hand slammed against Ada’s shoulder, my grip firm, possessive, my fingers digging into her soft flesh just enough to make her gasp.

”Aunt,” I growled, my voice a dark velvet whisper that slithered between them like a promise of sin. My lips brushed the shell of her ear as I leaned in, my cock already heavy, throbbing, the swollen head mere inches from the faintly glowing mark just above her navel.

That translucent dot pulsed like a beacon, begging to be claimed, owned. ”It’s nobody’s fault,” I murmured, my free hand sliding down her arm in slow, deliberate strokes, my thumb tracing lazy circles over the inside of her wrist.

I felt the way her pulse jumped beneath my touch, the way her body betrayed her—shivering, arching just a little closer, as if she couldn’t help herself.

Kerry’s gaze was glued to us, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. There was concern in her voice, but it was drowned out by something far darker—something that made her thighs press together, her fingers twitch at her sides.

”Dexter...” she whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes locked onto the thick, veined length of my cock, the pre-cum already glistening at the tip. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip, and I knew—she was imagining the taste of me, the weight of me on her tongue.

”You must be hurting,” she breathed, her voice dropping into a husky, needy purr. ”Being this hard for so long... so desperate to release...” Her fingers crept forward, hovering just centimeters away, as if she were fighting the urge to wrap them around my cock, to stroke me until I groaned.

”Let us help you,” she pleaded, her voice thick with lust, her eyes dark with the kind of hunger that only came from watching someone else get what you craved.

I didn’t answer her. Not with words. Instead, I let my hand slide lower, my fingers trailing down Ada’s arm. She let out a broken little whimper, her hips jerking forward, seeking more contact, more pressure.

My cock twitched violently, the need to bury myself inside her pussy—her tight, dripping pussy—almost overwhelming. I could smell her arousal, the sweet, musky scent of her desire filling the air, making my mouth water.