Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 341: Hot Cheesy Pizza

The open space buzzed with movement, as the other survivors clustered near a crude campfire, their fingers working quickly to simmer the gathered mushrooms and berries into what passed for soup.

Earthy aromas blended with smoke and a hint of despair in the heavy air, while vapors from the pot swirled together with the sharp tang of smoldering timber. Dirt streaked their cheeks, their outfits bore marks of grime, yet a tentative victory flickered in their gazes—like they'd tamed the wilderness around them.

Those stares kept coming too. Cocky, self-satisfied glares directed at me, as though they'd claimed a victory. As if they'd demonstrated their superiority.

A few edged nearer, clutching their bowls of fungus stew like prizes, shoving it right under our noses. Among them stood a hefty fellow sporting a ragged beard and unkempt locks—he flashed a leer at Angela and Lisa, his stare slithering over their forms in a manner that sent shivers down their spines.

"Beauty..." he drawled, his tone oily and derisive, "why not join our group?" His grin oozed sleaze, his words laced with phony kindness. "That way you won't starve..." He ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes fixating on Angela's figure, then shifting to Lisa's, treating them like possessions already.

Angela's digits flexed, fury sparking in her gaze. Lisa's palm inched toward the blade on her hip, her look icy and lethal. The strain built within them, poised to erupt.

I let out a low laugh, my words calm, entertained, and edged with threat. "No need to fret over my ladies." My grin cut like a blade, my voice chill. "We've got plenty for meals and beverages." I eased against the trunk, my stare pinning them down without wavering. "Relax."

The guys snorted, their sneers curling into revulsion. "Fine by you..." one grumbled, dismissing us with a casual flick of his wrist as he pivoted. "Starve away, you jerks."

I ignored them from that point on. Instead, I accessed the Supermarket Store—my private portal to indulgence amid this cursed wilderness. In my mind, I picked out three oversized, gooey pizzas—dripping with extra cheese, pepperoni slices, and packed with fiery extras—along with some frosty beverages. The goods popped into my inventory space, primed for access.

I shifted from the crowd, my arm vanishing out of sight by the trunk. With a quick motion, the pizza containers and cans materialized in my hold, hot and vibrant, straight from baking. Golden cheese bubbled and pulled long when I lifted the initial lid. The fragrance of gooey mozzarella, tangy sauce, and bold seasonings saturated the atmosphere, lush and alluring.

Angela and Lisa were in on my abilities, so they stayed unfazed. But to the rest? It seemed like I'd conjured the feast from thin air past the tree.

I unveiled the top pizza, its savory scent drifting across the glade. I sank my teeth in, savoring each chew with intent, my focus fixed on the onlookers. "Mmm..." I groaned softly, my tone teasing and belittling, "Delicious..." I tugged at the cheese strand with my fingertips, observing its pull before it broke. "So warm... so new..."

Lisa smirked, snatching a piece for her own. She chomped down, her eyes fluttering in over-the-top bliss. "Oh my God," she whispered, her words soaked in irony, "I nearly remembered how amazing proper meals are."

She ran her tongue across her lips, eyeing the survivors' envious glares. "You all ought to sample that fungus broth." She burst into laughter, the peal biting and scornful. "They say it's tasty."

Angela snickered, popping a chilled can. The sharp fizz sliced the quiet, provocative and bold. She gulped deeply, drawing out the noise on purpose, then swiped her lips with her hand's back.

"Nothing tops an icy beverage after tough hours," she said softly, her gaze sparkling with playful spite. "Shame you're limited to tepid fungus brew."

I munched another mouthful, drawing it out with purpose, my sight steady on the cluster. "You see," I remarked, my voice hushed and jeering, "nothing rivals steamy, gooey pizza for boosting morale." I beamed, raising the piece high, the cheese dangling ridiculously. "But whatever floats your boat, yeah?"

Silence draped the area.

Next came the outbursts.

"What the fuck..." a guy whispered, his stare bulging in shock.

"Where the hell did he get those pizzas from?!" another barked, his pitch climbing with irritation, fingers curling tight.

"Motherfucker..." the stocky one growled, his features contorting in fury. "He's fooling us!" His grip tightened on the broth bowl till his knuckles paled, his glare searing toward me. "This prick—why chew on these foraged fungi while he devours pizza?!"

I bit in once more, my smirk unwavering, amusement dancing in my eyes. "Envy doesn't look good on you, "I said quietly, my tone derisive, "though hunger just might." I flashed a grin, displaying the pizza like a trophy. "You ought to sample it one day—actual cuisine, that is." I lifted my shoulders casually, my words icy. "Oops, you can't."

Lisa burst out laughing, claiming another portion. "Look at your expressions," she taunted, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "Like children smooshing faces to a sweets shop glass." She gnawed slowly, with emphasis. "Sucks for you, doesn't it?"

Angela giggled, opening yet another can. "You know," she noted, her tone sugary yet provoking, "if you begged politely, we might divide it up." She halted, her grin warping. "But truthfully—you haven't earned it."

The other survivors observed us, their visages warped by anger, jealousy, and need. Their grips shook on the bowls, knuckles bleached, gazes scorching our way. A few grumbled oaths, while others simply gawked, wordless and fuming.

Megan advanced, her steps crackling over withered foliage, her expression a blend of haughtiness and annoyance. Her sight darted from the hot pizzas, the frosty cans, to my mocking visage. "Where'd this stuff originate?" she snapped, her words pointed and blaming, like she deserved the answer.

I reclined on the bark, munching more pizza, cheese trailing lavishly from my grasp. "You sure you want the truth?" My voice stayed breezy and entertained, though my eyes held a shadowy glint.

Megan dipped her head, teeth gritted, palms fisting. "Yes."

I laughed deeply and scornfully, cleaning my lips with my hand. "It's straightforward..." I lingered, my smirk shifting to something harsh and risky. "Simply serve as my servant..." My whisper flowed silky and goading. "Then you'll feast and quench daily." I shrugged offhandedly, my tone belittling. "Your thoughts?"

Megan's cheeks heated, wrath blazing in her eyes. "You—" she began, her speech quivering, "spill where this came from!" Her digits jerked, like she yearned to seize the pizza—or choke me.

I smiled broadly, savoring a leisurely chew. "One chance only, Megan." My words glided smooth and hazardous, laced with delight. "Grab it or pass."