Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 379: Anya’s Horniness Breaks the White Coat

Anya's calm facade broke apart just like fragile glass struck by a heavy blow. For that final shaky moment, she remained rooted in place—her glasses tilted off-kilter, blouse gaping wide, fingers still wedged deep between her legs—before a fractured "Shit... that's why... I didn't want any male patients... I knew this would happen..." escaped her lips. The phrase emerged as a mix of sob and admission, her tone splintering on the final word while the final strand of her professional restraint tore away.

She didn't so much stride as stumble ahead, discarding her garments as if they scorched her flesh. The white coat dropped first, landing in a rumpled pile on the ground.

Next came the blouse—buttons flying loose as she pulled it off over her head. Her bra came right after, the black lace tossed away casually, exposing compact, taut breasts topped with dark, achingly stiff nipples that protruded eagerly, as if pleading for touch.

She slipped her thumbs under the band of her scrubs and pushed them downward with a single forceful tug, shaking them free along with her practical shoes. Nothing underneath—no underwear—just sleek, fair skin and a totally bare-shaven mound, folds already puffed and slick, a slender streak of wetness gleaming along her inner thigh from her intense self-stroking.

Bare now, utterly exposed save for those lopsided glasses, she traversed the space on wobbly limbs, hips undulating, breasts jiggling faintly with every movement. Her gaze fixed intently on the lewd display of my shaft vanishing repeatedly into Nathalie's soaked core—continuing its rhythmic thrusts, still girthy and ridged, still glazed in a milky layer of blended secretions.

Nathalie had lost all sense of restraint to object. She persisted in rolling her hips in languid, dirty loops, sighing gently against my shoulder. "Mmm... keep filling me, baby... ahh, your cum’s so deep... leaking out around your cock... god, I love feeling full..." Her inner walls gripped me noticeably with each utterance, drawing out the final throbs of my climax as new trickles of our mingled fluids seeped forth and slid down over my sack.

Anya arrived beside us after just three additional strides. Without speaking—without seeking permission—she sank to her knees directly amid my parted thighs and Nathalie's. Her hands rose at once, quivering yet resolute.

One hand pressed flat to Nathalie's abdomen below, sensing the faint swell where my shaft pushed far into her depths. The other encircled the slippery, visible root of my cock—the sole section remaining outside Nathalie's widened entrance.

"Fuck..." Anya whispered, her voice husky and ruined, gazing upward at our connection as though it were the most stunning, depraved spectacle she'd witnessed.

"It’s still so hard... still pumping... look how her pussy’s gripping you... sucking every last drop..." Her digits clenched around the root, applying just sufficient pressure to detect the pulse of my lingering spasms racing along the portion embedded in Nathalie. She delivered one deliberate, claiming stroke—extracting from base to head despite my full immersion in my wife.

Nathalie inhaled sharply from the extra squeeze, her head tilting rearward. "Ahh... Anya... what are you... mmm, squeeze him... make him twitch inside me... oh god, I can feel it..." Her pelvis circled in small, desperate motions, rubbing her sensitive nub against my groin as Anya's grip manipulated the root in measured, purposeful glides.

Olivia and Nancy inched nearer on all fours, their stares broad and ravenous. Olivia ran her tongue over her mouth. "Shit, Doc... you’re naked... and you’re stroking him while he’s still inside her... that’s so fucking hot..."

Nancy extended a digit, trailing it down Anya's naked back. "Your pussy’s dripping on the floor... look at those hard little nipples... you’ve been fighting this the whole time, haven’t you?"

Anya offered no verbal reply. Rather, she bent forward—near enough for her warm exhale to brush Nathalie's taut folds and my shaft—and trailed her tongue in a single extended, languid path from the spot where my balls touched Nathalie's rear up to the frothy union of shaft and core. She groaned at the flavor—briny, earthy, sugary—then sealed her parted lips right to the sloppy bond, drawing softly, her tongue darting at the excess as it seeped around me.

"Mmmph... so much cum... still leaking... god, it’s thick... warm..." Anya's murmurs vibrated against damp skin. Her unoccupied hand dipped between her legs, digits diving anew into her smooth cleft with slick, urgent noises. She thrust into herself matching the gradual motions she applied to my root, pelvis bucking against her own touch.

Nathalie mewled overhead, legs quaking. "Oh fuck... she’s licking us... licking where you’re filling me... ahh, baby, I’m getting wet again... your cock’s twitching... mmm, keep pumping... let her taste how full you made me..."

I drove in shallow increments—scarcely an inch withdrawing and reentering—each shift causing additional pearly essence to well up for Anya to savor. My balls, remaining weighty and tender, grazed Anya's jaw with every minor pelvic tilt. She vibrated in delight, drawing more firmly, her tongue circling to gather each bit.

Olivia held back no longer. She crept behind Anya, burying her features between the doctor's splayed legs from the rear. "Let me help, Doc... your cunt’s dripping like a faucet..." Her tongue located Anya's sensitive pearl right away, stroking in wide, eager sweeps as her fingers parted Anya's cheeks for deeper reach.

Anya shuddered from the touch, groaning into our linked forms. "Fuck... yes... eat me... don’t stop... I need it... been so fucking wet since he walked in..."

Nancy positioned herself beside me on her knees, one palm cradling my balls, kneading them softly as the other toyed with Nathalie's peak. "God... look at this mess... cum everywhere... squirt everywhere... we’re all ruined for normal sex now..."

The space melted into utter, sodden disorder: Nathalie circling slow and profound on my persistent erection, Anya drawing and caressing the root while Olivia feasted on her from the back, Nancy lapping and tweaking and murmuring lewd urgings. Every noise was vulgar—gushing mouths, smacking skin, fractured cries—and the atmosphere hung heavy with the scent of intimacy, potent enough to savor.

Nathalie bent forward, claiming my mouth fiercely, murmuring against it amid her sighs. "Mmm... they’re all breaking for you... but this cock... this cum... still mine... ahh... keep fucking me slow... let them worship us..."

Anya positioned herself over me, her sleek, bare folds separated sufficiently to graze the engorged tip of my shaft with each deliberate, agonizing slide.

She swayed her hips in idle, taunting loops—advancing so the thick edge snagged her nub, retreating so the opening skimmed damply down the shaft's ventral side—never permitting entry into her. Her wetness sheathed me in dense, glossy coats, streaming along my shaft in heated streams that gathered on my balls.

The slick sounds of her provocation echoed through the room, broken by the crisp, reflexive jerks of my pulsing cock leaping to smack her swollen lips whenever Nancy and Olivia drew more intensely on my peaks.