Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Jill moved suddenly, as if jolted from a dream, her face burning crimson as she realized what she was doing. She stumbled back, her hands trembling, and rushed to the drawer, her skirt swaying with every hurried step.

The sound of her heels against the hardwood floor was sharp, almost frantic, as if she were trying to outrun her own thoughts. She pulled out a pair of black socks, her fingers lingering on the soft fabric as she clutched them to her chest, her breath still uneven.

When she returned, she knelt down in front of me, her uniform straining against her curves, the buttons of her blouse pulling taut over her full, heavy tits. The cleavage was deep, inviting, the valley between her breasts a temptation I couldn’t ignore.

The white skin of her tits was barely contained, the swell of them rising and falling with every shallow breath she took. I gulped, my cock throbbing hard beneath my pants, the bulge growing as I tried to focus on anything but the sight of her.

Jill lifted my foot, placing it gently on her thighs, her touch hesitant but electric. The heat of her skin seeped into mine, and I felt her tremble as she began to slide the sock up my ankle.

A soft, almost inaudible moan escaped her lips—”Hm...”—as her inner thighs brushed against my skin. The contact was brief, but it was enough to make her body shiver, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

From above, I had a perfect view of her cleavage, the deep valley between her tits begging for attention.

My cock twitched, throbbing painfully against my underwear, the fabric straining as I shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure. But there was no relief—not when Jill was this close, not when her scent—floral, sweet, intoxicating—filled my nose.

Jill didn’t notice—or pretended not to. She was too lost in her own world, her mind a whirlwind of shame and desire.

As she lifted my foot higher to pull the sock up my calf, her inner thighs pressed against my skin, and she let out a sharper moan—”Aah...”—this time unable to hide it. Her fingers trembled, her breath hitching as she tried to steady herself, but her mind was already spiraling.

[Oh god... his skin is so warm... So smooth... I shouldn’t be doing this... But I can’t stop...]

I asked, knowing full well what was happening, my voice laced with false innocence, my eyes wide as if I were completely oblivious. ”Are you okay? Did I hurt you...?”

I pulled my foot back, my voice gentle, my eyes locked on her flustered face. Jill’s blush deepened, her thoughts running wild, her fingers clenching into her skirt.

[Young Master... is he really innocent...? Or does he not know how hard he’s making me...? Looking at Young Master’s face, he’s blushing like a little girl... But his eyes... They’re locked on my tits...]

Her gaze flickered down, drawn like a magnet to my crotch, where my pants were tented by my hard cock. The bulge was impossible to miss, the fabric straining as my cock throbbed, begging for release. Her eyes lingered, her mind spiraling into filthy, forbidden territory.

[He’s so hard... Oh god, I want to touch it... I want to see it...]

Then, as if realizing her own boldness, she looked down at her chest, her thoughts a mix of shock and arousal.

[OMG... I’ve been giving him these views... My tits are right there... He can see everything...]

Jill cleared her throat, her voice trembling but professional. ”N-No, Young Master... I’m fine...” she stammered, but her mind was anything but calm.

[I should stop... But I don’t want to...]

I pulled her up, letting her sit on the bed, her skirt riding up just enough to tease. The fabric of her uniform was tight, hugging her curves in a way that made my mouth water. Then I finished dressing, putting on my other sock and shoes, my cock still hard beneath my pants, the pressure almost unbearable.

”Tell Mother... that I left...” I said, my voice casual, but my eyes were sharp, watching her every reaction. My tone was innocent, but my mind was anything but—I knew exactly what I was doing to her.

Jill nodded, her thighs clenched tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt, her lips bitten as she fought to maintain composure. ”Hmm...” was all she could manage, her mind a whirlwind of lust and guilt, her body trembling with unfulfilled need.

[His cock is right there... I can see it... I want to touch it... I want to kneel in front of him and take it in my mouth...]

I left the room, my mind still on Jill—her trembling hands, her filthy thoughts, the way she couldn’t resist me. The tension between us was palpable, electric, and I knew—this was far from over.

I left the room... and took the car keys and took my car... and drove toward the auction house.

The drive to the auction house was a blur, my mind still lingering on Jill’s trembling hands and filthy thoughts. But as I stepped into the grand hall, the atmosphere shifted—opulent, powerful, charged with the energy of the elite. And there she was—Maya.

She sat regally, her red slit dress hugging her curves, the fabric parting just enough to reveal her toned, golden thighs as she crossed her legs.

The dress shimmered under the chandelier light, the deep red a stark contrast to her wheat-colored skin and long, silken black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall of shadows. She was stunning—elegant, powerful, untouchable—and yet, there was a sadness in her eyes that pulled at me.

I remembered her from five years ago, when I was just 17, awkward and inexperienced, but even then, I couldn’t stop myself from ogling her hot body. Now, as a man, the sight of her stirred something deeper—not just lust, but curiosity.

I walked toward her, my suit sharp, my confidence high. ”Hello, Ms. Maya... I am Dexter Williams... I have met you a few times... in Mom’s office...”