Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Emily tilted her head, curious. ”What is it?”

Oliver glanced at me before answering, his tone casual but deliberate. ”I’ve talked to Doctor Angela. She requested a personal bodyguard before, so I’ve assigned Mike to her for safety.”

My body tensed slightly at the mention of Angela’s name, but I kept my expression neutral. Doctor Angela—the same woman Tom and I had sent Ryan, Mitt, Tusk, and the others to for that experiment project.

The memory of those men—what they’d become, what they’d done—flashed through my mind, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the conversation.

Oliver continued, his gaze shifting to Emily. ”Doctor Angela works in the research institute, so Mike just has to follow her all day. And it’s inside the fortress, so it’s totally safe.”

Emily’s eyes brightened. ”That’s great! I can even go meet him if I want to!”

I exhaled slowly, my voice steady as I met Oliver’s gaze. ”Father-in-law, thank you.”

Emily beamed, turning to Oliver with a grin. ”Dad, you’re the best.”

Oliver chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. ”Hmph. Your dad still has this power here. How can they not listen to me?” His eyes flicked to Jennifer for a brief moment, his smirk knowing, before he turned his attention back to his meal.

Jennifer, meanwhile, remained beside me, her presence warm and solid. She didn’t say anything, but the way her shoulder brushed against mine, the way her fingers twitched slightly on the table—it was enough. For now.

After dinner, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen faded into the background as I sank into the couch, the weight of the evening settling over me.

Emily and Jennifer were still washing up, their voices a quiet murmur, while Oliver had already retreated to his room. The house was calm, the kind of calm that came after a storm—when the air was still charged, but the worst had passed.

I pulled up my Pervert Debauchery System, the familiar interface flashing before my eyes. The numbers and categories were a reminder of just how far I’d come—and how much further I could go.

Pervert Debauchery System

Name: Dexter Williams

Age: 22

Skills: None

Abilities: Healing Factor, Limit Breaker, Universal Language, Eternal Vitality, Cuckold God, Nexus

Pervert Points: 150000

Harem: Ruth, Kerry, Ada, Helen, Agatha, Ravina, Hina, Kina, Vera, Wendy, Emily, Jennifer

System Storage: Used Virus Immunity Needle, Soothing Cream, etc.

SUPER-MARKET STORE: Anything the host wishes to buy is available in the store, from food, clothing, skills, abilities, and anything else, by paying a corresponding number of Pervert Points.

I looked at pervert points and realised my notification was turned off. I took a look at those notifications.

[Riding Kerry like a wild stallion, fucking her raw while she screamed my name - 20,000 Pervert Points]

[Bending Kerry over in front of her husband, making her take every inch while he sobbed like a cuck—her pussy dripping, her moans echoing through the tent - 10,000 Pervert Points]

[Fucking Emily in her own bed, her tight little cunt and anal clenching around my cock as she whimpered like the good girl she is— 20,000 Pervert Points]

[Pounding Mother-in-law on the couch, her legs spread wide, her pussy taking every thrust like it was made for me—her moans muffled against my shoulder as she came like a desperate whore - 20,000 Pervert Points]

[Fucking Mother-in-law in the public toilet, her skirt hiked up, her panties torn aside—her pussy so wet, so tight, she couldn’t even pretend she didn’t love it - 40,000 Pervert Points]

My cock was rock hard just reading it. 150,000 Pervert Points—earned through pure, unfiltered debauchery. And I wasn’t done yet. I already had 40000 points before when I fucked Ruth in front of her mother and made her squirt, and now after all fucking Emily and Jennifer like that... I hit a jackpot lottery.

Emily emerged first, her steps light as she made her way into the living room and plopped down beside me on the couch. ”Mike,” she said, her voice still carrying the remnants of sleep, ”I’m so tired. That get-together really took it out of me.” She leaned against my shoulder, her body warm and relaxed, her trust in me absolute.

Jennifer followed shortly after, her movements more measured, more deliberate. She hesitated for just a second—her eyes flicking between Emily and me—before she sat down on my other side, her thigh pressing against mine. The contact was subtle, but it sent a jolt of dark satisfaction through me. She was choosing me. Right in front of Emily. Right in front of everyone.

I glanced at Jennifer, my smirk slow and knowing. ”Comfortable, Mother-in-law?” I murmured, my voice low enough that only she could hear. My hand rested on the back of the couch, my fingers brushing against the nape of her neck—just lightly, just enough to make her breath hitch.

Jennifer’s cheeks flushed a deep, telling shade of pink, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she held my gaze, her eyes dark with something raw and unspoken—something that made my pulse quicken. ”Mhm,” she hummed, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. The air between us was thick with tension, the kind that made my skin prickle with anticipation.

Emily, completely unaware of the undercurrent, yawned and shifted, lying down with her head resting in my lap. She closed her eyes, her attention half on the TV, half on the warmth of the moment. ”This is nice,” she murmured sleepily, her voice soft and content.

Emily’s head grew heavy against my lap almost instantly, her breathing evening out into the soft, rhythmic sounds of sleep. The TV hummed quietly in the background, casting a dim glow over the room, but my attention was far from the screen. The second I felt Emily’s body fully relax into slumber, Jennifer’s demeanor shifted—like a switch had been flipped.

She hadn’t changed her dress. The same fabric from earlier still clung to her curves, the hem riding up just enough to tease as she shifted in her seat. Her fingers traced idle patterns along the armrest before she turned slightly, her legs parting with deliberate slowness. The air between us grew thicker, charged with something dark and hungry.

”Mike... My pussy is itching... see...” she murmured, her voice a breathy whisper, thick with need. Her fingers hooked into the hem of her dress, lifting it just enough to reveal the damp, clinging fabric of her panties. My gaze locked onto the sight—the fabric darkened with arousal, the scent of her already filling the space between us.