Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 253: Veronica & Mary’s Mother

A heavy tension filled the air inside Angela’s office, far removed from the cold, clinical vibe of the laboratory beyond the door. The atmosphere was electric, a palpable charge that made my skin prickle and my cock throb with sharp anticipation.

Angela kept her piercing blue eyes fixed on mine. Her full, crimson lips parted slightly as her tongue flicked out to dampen her lower lip—a calculated, seductive move that sent a surge of raw lust straight through my veins.

"I hope to exceed your expectations, Doctor," I remarked. My voice shifted into a deeper, more ominous tone, every syllable dripping with hidden promises—promises of carnal pleasure, total domination, and eventual ruin. The way her pupils dilated in reaction proved she caught every filthy undertone.

Leaning forward just enough, Angela allowed her massive tits to press firmly against the desk's edge, the white fabric of her lab coat straining to hold them back. My mouth watered at the sight.

"Oh," she purred, her voice reduced to a sultry whisper, "I bet you do." Her fingers began a slow, rhythmic tapping on the desk, drawing my gaze to her long, perfectly manicured nails. They were painted a deep, sophisticated red that matched the color of her lips exactly.

Suddenly, Angela’s demeanor changed. Her eyes narrowed with a sharp seriousness, and the playful warmth between us was instantly replaced by an urgent, cutting intensity.

"From now on, my safety is in your hands," she declared. Her voice was steady and authoritative, leaving absolutely no room for debate.

I nodded back, my gaze focused and unwavering. "Don’t worry, Doctor Angela," I answered in a low, confident tone. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

She observed me for a long beat, as if trying to gauge the truth behind my words, before she pointed toward the chair next to her desk.

"You can follow me from now on," she stated, her voice smooth yet commanding. "For now, take a seat."

The chair legs let out a sharp, deliberate rasp against the tiled floor as I pulled it closer to her.

Beneath the desk, my thigh brushed against Angela’s. The contact triggered a jolt of electricity—a mix of heat, tension, and something inherently dangerous.

I maintained my poker face, keeping my expression neutral even as my cock twitched, pulsing with desire while I watched her fingers move efficiently across her tablet.

However, a nagging thought wouldn't leave me alone.

My eyes wandered around the office, noting the framed diplomas on the walls, the trophies on the shelves, and the organized rows of files and books. Everything here was precise and controlled—an extension of her personality. Then, my focus landed on a picture frame at the corner of her desk.

The photo showed three women with their arms around each other, smiling for the camera—Veronica, Mary, and Angela.

Fuck.

Recognition slammed into me like a physical blow to the stomach. Angela appeared older now, her features more mature and refined, but the likeness was impossible to ignore—the same blonde hair, those identical piercing blue eyes, and the same arrogant smirk that Veronica and Mary wore like a suit of armor.

She was their mother.

My mind began to race as fragments of past conversations with Veronica and Mary clicked into place. I remembered how they spoke of her—always a blend of admiration and dread, respect and bitterness. They had described her as brilliant, ruthless, and completely untouchable.

And yet, here she was, sitting inches away with her leg pressed against mine. Her perfume—an expensive floral scent with a spicy kick—filled my lungs as her presence dominated the entire room.

I shifted slightly, my cock throbbing as the reality of the situation took hold. Taking Angela wouldn’t just be another conquest. It would be crossing a forbidden line, claiming something dangerous. The sheer thrill of that realization made my blood boil.

Angela looked up and caught me staring. Her eyebrows arched in a silent question. "Something on your mind, Mike?" she inquired, her voice cool despite the curiosity burning in her eyes.

I reached out and picked up the photo frame, my thumb grazing the glass surface. "Are they your younger sisters?" I asked, keeping my voice low and measured, testing her while playing the fool.

Angela let out a soft, amused chuckle that sent a cold shiver down my spine. "What? Younger sisters?" She shook her head, her lips twisting into a smirk. "No, Mike. They’re my daughters."

I pulled back in mock shock, widening my eyes so much it looked like I’d just been told the most ridiculous lie imaginable. "What?" I shouted, leaning back with a theatrical gasp and clutching my chest as if the news had rocked my very soul.

"Doctor, you shouldn’t lie like that... How can someone who looks as young as you have daughters?" My voice was full of fake disbelief, though my eyes couldn't hide the amusement dancing beneath the surface.

Angela laughed again, a rich, warm sound. "Don’t tease this old lady..." she whispered, her fingers tapping the tablet while her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Oliver didn’t mention you were so silver-tongued..." There was a specific quality to her voice—amusement mixed with a hint of intrigue, as if she were curious to see how far I would push this game.

I stayed in character, maintaining an expression of wide-eyed wonder. "Are they really your daughters?" I asked, my voice dripping with mock confusion, as if the concept was simply too wild to grasp.

Angela nodded, another soft laugh escaping her. "Yes, Mike," she confirmed. Her tone was light, but there was a sharp edge to it—a faint warning hidden just beneath the surface.

Then, her face suddenly went still. For a fleeting second, her fingers stopped moving over the tablet, and her smile flickered before settling into an unreadable mask.

"Veronica and Mary," she said, her voice now neutral and controlled. However, there was a tightness there, a darker note of maternal instinct and protectiveness. "Yes. They are mine."

I placed the photo back on the desk, letting my fingers linger on the frame a second longer than necessary.

My thoughts were spinning, flashing through images of Veronica and Mary—their laughter, their stubbornness, the way they moved, and the way they felt when we fucked.

Now, their mother sat right in front of me, her leg touching mine and her scent overwhelming my senses.

Possessing Angela wouldn’t be just another notch on the bedpost. It was a step into the forbidden, a dangerous gamble. The excitement of that thought made my cock throb and my blood run hot with anticipation.

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a low, intimate growl as I locked eyes with her. "They’re beautiful," I muttered, my gaze searching hers for any sign of a break. "Just like you, Doctor."

Angela’s lips parted, her breathing hitching for a moment. For the first time, her composed mask cracked, revealing a flash of raw, unfiltered emotion. Desire. Conflict. Hunger. Her grip on the tablet tightened slightly, and her chest began to rise and fall faster, her tits heaving as the atmosphere shifted violently.

"You flatter me, Mike," she said. Her voice remained cool, but a slight tremor betrayed the primitive urge rising within her. "But you shouldn’t."

I flashed a slow, predatory grin, letting my eyes drop to her lips before trailing down to how the lab coat hugged her curves and the way her breasts swelled with every breath. "I don’t flatter," I growled out. "I only speak the truth."

Angela’s eyes flared with intensity, her gaze challenging me, daring me to cross the next line. "The truth can be a dangerous thing, Mike," she whispered in a low, warning tone.

I didn’t flinch. I didn't look away. "So can I," I countered, my voice dark and full of promise.

The air between us grew thick, charged with a force far more powerful than words. Lust. Power. The intoxicating thrill of playing with fire.

And fuck, I was more than ready to burn.