Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 374: Olivia & Nancy

Anya grabbed a hefty pile of clean tissues from the nearby table, her actions careful and almost sacred. She positioned herself once more between Nathalie's parted legs, causing the recliner to groan beneath the adjustment.

The initial tissue encountered the slippery chaos of Nathalie's stretched anus—continuing to flutter open and shut like an eager orifice, with dense white clumps of my semen adhering to the inflamed pink edge in gooey strands.

Anya applied pressure steadily, wiping the tissue in languid, circular motions that caused Nathalie's pelvis to twitch and her breathing to catch in urgent, desperate inhales.

"Stay put, Mrs. Dexter," Anya said softly, her tone deep and husky, "I have to wipe away every bit... even though it looks like he filled you without limit." She flipped the used tissue, showing its saturation, now see-through with milky essence, before applying a new one right to the exposed opening.

She eased it inside softly—sufficient to draw out additional overflowing semen—eliciting a prolonged, fractured cry from Nathalie as yet another substantial glob surged out and drenched the tissue right away.

Anya shifted downward afterward, separating the swollen, shiny folds of Nathalie's pussy with a pair of fingers. The tissues swept across her swollen clit—triggering a fierce spasm—then along the soaked creases, gathering the slippery blend of her excitement and leftover cum that had trickled from her rear.

Every pass was deliberate, tantalizing, nearly caressing; Nathalie's legs quivered, her feet flexing within the crimson Louboutins, her spine lifting from the recliner while new moisture surged to replenish what Anya cleared.

"What a dirty, leaking disaster," Anya breathed, part scolding, part adoration. "Your openings are still craving more, despite everything you've taken."

Nancy inhaled deeply, glancing my way before speaking, "Mr. Dexter, perhaps you should take off your trousers... to let us continue."

Olivia acted swiftly, before I could fully absorb Nancy's suggestion. She sank elegantly onto her knees directly before me—her scrub pants pulling taut across her curved backside as she positioned herself, knees parting a bit on the chilly office ground for stability. Her gaze aligned with my groin now, face reddened, eyes dilated so much that only a narrow blue circle framed the dark desire.

"Let me handle it, Mr. Dexter," she whispered, her voice hushed and honeyed. "You appear... somewhat unsteady. We'll remove these correctly."

Her palms—heated, remarkably firm—extended toward the band of my partially descended pants. She slipped her digits beneath the material and pulled it down in a fluid, intentional motion.

The pants glided past my hips without resistance, bunching around my feet. Yet she continued. Her fingers brushed the band of my briefs next—dark boxer-briefs bulging ridiculously from the robust, rigid shaft confined within.

She peered up at me beneath her lashes, mouth ajar, breaths shallow and warm fanning across the cotton front. "Take a deep breath," she murmured, nearly playful. Then she jerked the band downward sharply.

The briefs snagged briefly on the engorged tip of my dick—then released suddenly.

My dick burst upward with fierce momentum—dense, veined, diamond-solid, coated in a shiny layer of pre-cum from head to root. The abrupt freedom made it swing forward in a weighty swing.

The sharp, moist smack resounded across the secured office like a palm on exposed skin.

The base of my pulsing dick struck fully against Olivia’s face—scorching, substantial flesh colliding with tender skin hard enough to snap her head a touch aside.

A plump strand of pre-cum splashed over her cheekbone, trailing toward her ear in a glossy line. The contact created a brief, exact outline of my dick on her heated skin—flushing red where the crown's edge had landed. She inhaled sharply, a quick, reflexive noise blending surprise and pleasure.

The dick bounced back up, swaying erratically, then fell once more—gentler now—trailing the wet base over her open mouth before coming to rest, aimed directly at her features like a charge.

A heavy droplet of pre-cum dangled from the opening, quivering, then descended in a sluggish, sticky glob onto her bottom lip. She showed no recoil. Rather, her tongue flicked out—swift, playful—lapping up the droplet and savoring it with a gentle, eager murmur.

"Damn..." she exhaled, stare fixed on the throbbing shaft mere inches from her face. "So weighty... so damn girthy. See how it's jerking just from smacking me."

Nancy released a stifled cry from nearby, one palm clamped firmly between her legs. "Hear that smack?" she murmured. "Lord, it was like he rammed her face without effort."

From behind, Nathalie’s shattered wail pierced the atmosphere. "Olivia... you whore... stop... stop tasting him... that's mine... my spouse’s dick... my semen still oozing from my ruined anus and you’re lapping pre-cum from your cheek like a desperate animal..."

Anya remained on her knees by the recliner, unused tissues dropped in her grasp, gaze locked as Olivia gradually stood—cheek still gleaming with my pre-cum streak, mouth glossy from that brief tongue touch.

Olivia advanced nearer, her scrub shirt grazing my naked torso. One hand encircled the root of my dick loosely—fingers scarcely closing around the thickness—and delivered a single, claiming stroke.

"All set," she cooed, tone hoarse. "Now it's loose. See how furious the tip looks... violet and leaking. Prepared to tear that mannequin apart... or perhaps something tighter, should the physician permit."

My dick throbbed fiercely in her hold, another dense thread of pre-cum seeping forth and falling onto her fingers. She left it untouched. Instead, she grinned—leisurely, lewd—and directed the wet tip toward the doll’s ready, spread silicone pussy.

The space buzzed with tension—damp noises from Nathalie’s ongoing leaks, labored breaths from all the women, the vulgar drip of my excitement on the ground, and the echo of that resounding, raunchy lingering in every mind.

Olivia ascended gradually from her knees, her scrub pants rustling softly on the floor as she rose.

A slight shake passed through her digits as she maintained her light clasp on the root of my dick—composure clashing with how her thumb instinctively rubbed the base once, gathering extra pre-cum on its tip before she compelled her hand to halt.