Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 390: Jack Slaps Mira—Divorce Follows

She held onto me as if I were the last stable anchor in her chaotic existence—her arms clamped tight, legs gripping firmly, chest nestled and gliding in that torturous, steady rhythm.

And before long, once Jack pressed for explanations, once he noticed her striding without issue—no hobble, no puffiness, not a single trace on that so-called "sprained" ankle—she'd stutter out the identical tale:

"It got twisted... Dexter needed to carry me... I was unable to step... "

He'd scrutinize her rosy face, the way she dodged his stare, the recollection (or the gossip) of her form coiled around mine just like this—chest squeezed against my back, legs secured at my hips, letting out faint moans into my neck—and each protest would ring false.

For how could someone with a real twisted ankle mold herself so thoroughly, so boldly, against a different man and still profess purity?

She simply couldn't.

And she wouldn't need to.

As the yells erupted—once Jack's envy finally broke loose—she'd dash to the sole spot that remained secure.

To me.

I adjusted my hold beneath her legs, hands inching slightly upward until my digits pressed softly into the supple swell where leg joined rear, hoisting her a bit to alter the position.

Her chest slid higher once more—this time with greater intent, more purpose—tips snagging and lingering until I sensed her quake fiercely against my frame.

"We're nearly there," I whispered, mouth near her ear so my warm breath ruffled the delicate strands by her forehead. "Just cling to me, Mira. I've got you safe."

She replied with a faint, fractured noise—part sob, part breath—and pressed her face into the curve of my neck. Her mouth grazed my skin by chance—or perhaps on purpose—and I detected the damp warmth of her parted-lip breath.

Her breasts squashed more firmly, tips like tiny flames now, rasping with each inhale I drew.

I grinned into the shadows, the subtle, pleased twist of my mouth concealed by the gloom as Mira's heated, quivering form adhered to me like an extra layer.

Her ample, weighty chest remained snug against my upper back, the yielding, cushioned tissue conforming and moving with each measured pace I made. Every soft rock of my movement pulled her rigid tips in languid, taunting loops over my shoulder bones.

The rub was unrelenting, infuriating, exquisite. I sensed the quick throb of her pulse pounding right into my backbone, her legs clenching harder at my waist whenever a new surge of embarrassment or desire surged over her.

At last, the dim trail widened into the vividly illuminated yard. Lights dangled above, spilling amber glow over the assembled visitors. The instant we entered the radiance, all gazes swung our way.

Stares grew wide. Talks halted in mid-word. Devices were already emerging.

Angela and Lisa detached from the group first, dresses billowing as they hurried over.

"Dexter... you're returned!" Angela shouted, gladness shining in her tone—until her eyes drifted beyond my shoulder and fixed on Mira, still entwined around me like a partner. Her jaw dropped. Lisa froze in place, a palm rushing to her mouth, stare enormous.

Mira's grip constricted around my neck in alarm. Her face scorched against the edge of my throat as she murmured, tone quivering and winded, "Dexter... set me down... please..."

I didn't comply immediately. I allowed my palms to glide commandingly further under her tender legs, digits sinking lightly into the heated tissue right under the swell of her rear, keeping her suspended a moment longer so all could witness precisely how closely she adhered to me. Only then did I flex my knees and lower her gently until her uncovered soles met the turf.

She teetered for a brief instant from reflex, then stood upright too fast—comprehending too tardily that her "hurt" ankle operated without flaw. Her jacket had fallen from one shoulder once more, revealing the pinkish hue of her neckline and the subtle shape of her persistent peaks pushing at her jacket.

Thudding steps pounded over the grass.

Jack charged at us, expression contorted in anger, knuckles balled at his flanks. Bill trailed right after, ashen and seething.

Jack halted an inch from Mira, just managing it, panting heavily, stinking of liquor.

"You fucking slut," he growled, tone booming for the whole yard to catch. "Is there any decency left in that pathetic frame of yours? Will you keep insisting right here and deny everything? I was a stupid damn fool to wed a dick-starved tramp who opens wide for a kid half her years—my very own son's buddy!"

A stunned wave spread through the assembly. Someone inhaled sharply. A lady muttered, "Oh my God," clear enough to echo.

Bill advanced, tone splintering with revulsion. "Mom... I never figured you'd turn out this way. Truly, I didn't."

Mira's features collapsed. Tears welled up in her eyes right away. She shook her head wildly, fingers waving pointlessly before her as she attempted to clarify.

"I-it's not... it's n-not what you think, Jack," she faltered, voice shrill and shattered, phrases spilling chaotically. "M-my ankle... it wrenched so terribly... it puffed up, I c-couldn't bear any pressure on it... D-Dexter was merely assisting me... he feared we might not return prior to full nightfall... nothing more, I promise... please, trust me..."

Not a soul credited her words.

Jack's visage warped into a hideous snarl. Abruptly, his palm whipped across her face in a brutal strike—the noise crisp and moist, resounding over the hushed yard like a blast.

Mira's head jerked aside. A vivid crimson palm mark flared at once on her fair complexion, the outline of his digits bold and inflamed. She reeled, one hand darting to shield her stinging face, a tiny, fractured sob slipping from her mouth.

Even I—despite orchestrating each part of this—experienced a spark of real astonishment at the force of his blow.

"Bitch!" Jack bellowed, thrusting forward so near that saliva dotted her tear-smeared cheeks.

"How utterly brazen can you get? You two slipped away, rutted like beasts while we all waited here like idiots, and you're still feeding me lies? You've been peddling your body to this kid while I stayed oblivious! Didn't you spare a thought for your kids even once?!"

He poked a stout digit my way, glare burning with raw loathing.

"Then I divorce you, Mira!" he thundered, tone fracturing in wrath. "This instant, before all these people—I divorce you, you useless tramp! You're unfit to be my spouse. You're just a tawdry, needy harlot!"