Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 399: Confiscated Panties, Dripping Cunt

"Damn... urinate on my shaft, Angela... drench that thick rod as I thrust between your squeezed thighs..." I grunted, pushing gently into the vise of her legs while the warm flow washed over me—scalding urine streaming along my hardness in heavy, rhythmic flows, covering each ridge, falling from my swollen sack in gooey strands that pattered onto the foliage underneath.

The warmth felt utterly depraved—her pee burning against my flesh, causing my dick to twitch and pulse even more fiercely within the snug passage formed by her thighs.

Her slit tightened noticeably with every motion—internal muscles twitching beneath the sheer fabric, folds trembling around my rod as urine shot out in erratic bursts, sprinkling our legs, the trunk nearby, and even dotting my stomach.

Her sensitive bud enlarged further against my urine-glazed crown—beating, surging like a pulse beneath the constant rub of my tip pressing into it. Each burst sent her pearl leaping, pee bouncing away in tiny mists that further saturated her upper legs.

"Oh god... your urine feels so damn scorching on my clit... it’s got my pussy pulsing... keep that thick tip massaging my engorged nub..." Angela whimpered, her tone fracturing, struggling to remain hushed.

She clamped her teeth firmly into my shoulder—fangs piercing through the cloth into the flesh, stifling a cry as her flow intensified into a robust, surging rush.

"Mmmph... shit... Dexter... your dick’s rubbing my urine-drenched clit... I’ll climax if you keep urinating on it that way... ughhh... bite me firmer so I won’t yell..."

In reply, I let go of my control. "Catch my urine as well, you dirty urine-slut," I growled near her ear.

"Sense my warm jet battering your clit while your slit soaks my rod." A strong surge erupted from my end—dense, vigorous pee blasting straight at her bloated pearl, pummeling that tender spot like watery digits.

The amber deluge bounced off her clit in chaotic mists, saturating the fabric more, seeping downward to blend with hers in a hot, sordid pool at our soles. Her clit throbbed wildly from the barrage—expanding further, surging openly as urine hammered it, forcing her legs to shake and grip my shaft tighter.

"Damn... your urine is screwing my clit... it’s so scorching, so lewd... my pussy’s gripping your dick like it craves to squeeze out every bit..." Angela sobbed against my shoulder, her words muffled and ragged, pelvis jerking madly to press her dripping slit firmer onto my driving hardness.

"Keep going... urinate stronger on my puffy clit... force me to gush my fluids with your pee... ughhh... I’m fighting so much not to groan out loud... Mira’s bound to catch me climaxing on your rod..."

I sped up my hip movements—plunging into the snug, urine-lubricated gap of her thighs, my dick gliding to and fro amid the warm deluge, the crown mercilessly abrading her clit on each pass.

Her folds quivered along the rod via the lace—deeper layers pulling at me, pearl leaping and beating under the combined urine flows, her entire slit shaking as the remainder of her pee dwindled to slow, leaking dribbles. My flow eased to heavy strands—smearing her clit with last, potent throbs that made her quake fiercely.

Angela slumped into me, breathing heavily, legs quivering, underwear completely destroyed—sodden with our combined urine, adhering see-through to her bloated, crimson pearl and inflamed folds.

My dick remained wedged between her thighs for a final, drawn-out instant—glossy and shining with our blended pee and her viscous slit-nectar, ridges beating openly in the firelight, crown still swollen deep violet and oozing new pre-cum into the sordid, vaporous sludge covering her upper legs.

The merged liquids fell in sluggish, thick strands from my length, splashing the leaves beneath with damp smacks, the pungent aroma of pee and excited pussy dense enough to savor in the atmosphere.

Angela gradually parted her thighs with a trembling breath, one last rivulet of her urine trailing along my hardness before my dick sprang loose—shiny, rigid, tendrils of pee-mingled fluid linking the end to her drenched lace like vulgar webs.

She retreated a short step, bosom rising and falling rapidly, full breasts heaving, tips poking through her blouse like gems. Her gaze—shadowy, misty with desire—fixed on my leaking rod, then rose to my features with her classic wanton expression: mouth ajar, tongue flicking to moisten her lips, face reddened, a sly grin forming even with the bite-mark purpling her own shoulder.

"Hm..." she murmured, tone still rough from stifled cries, extending a hand to encircle my slippery length. She delivered one deliberate, lewd pull—drawing forth another plump drop of pre-cum to the opening—prior to steering the yet-pulsing rod back to my unzipped fly.

"Time to return... or your sweet Mira might search for us... curious why her ’guardian’ is delaying so much in aiding his spouse with her needs."

She secured my dick with playful precision, fastening the zipper gradually, her fingers grazing the tender crown once more. "Heh... the poor girl’s likely squeezing her legs together outside, picturing our activities."

I seized her wrist prior to her complete withdrawal. Using my free hand, I slipped two digits under the band of her soaked dark lace underwear—still sticking transparently to her bloated slit folds—and pulled them down with a sharp yank.

The drenched material separated from her pussy with a moist, clinging noise, threads of urine and nectar extending before breaking. Angela inhaled sharply, legs clenching on reflex, yet I had already removed them—bunched, heated, leaking in my grasp.

"What the—Dexter?!" she whispered sharply, eyes bulging with stunned lust, voice splitting between shock and wicked thrill. Her nude pussy stood bare under the light—outer lips swollen and rosy, inner parts gleaming with a heavy layer of her fluids and our urine, pearl remaining erect and jutting like an eager knob, one last pee bead hanging from the cover before dropping. Her bush was tangled and damp, slippery paths trailing her inner legs. "You’re crazy... hand those over!"

I shoved the spoiled underwear far into my pocket—heated, sodden lace molding against my leg like a hidden prize. "I’ve seized them," I stated, tone deep and ominous, advancing so my frame shielded the light from her revealed slit.

"You’ll go commando now, Angela. No underwear. No concealing that leaking, urine-dampened gash. Hee hee... keep Mira from spotting it."

Angela’s respiration faltered—part objection, part sigh. She peered at her uncovered bottom, then lifted her eyes to mine, gaze gleaming with that risky blend of anger and arousal.

"You jerk... You expect me to stroll back with my pussy bare? Folds all puffy and glossy, clit beating, slit oozing along my legs for all to view?" She nipped her lip, legs brushing once—spreading the slippery chaos more.

"Shit... that’s incredibly filthy. Imagine if Mira notices? If she figures out I’m bottomless... no underwear, merely leaking pussy-nectar and your urine still seeping from me?"

I pressed near, mouth grazing her ear. "Then she’ll grasp precisely the type of whore my spouse is. And perhaps... just perhaps... she’ll ponder what it’s like to lose her own underwear. To prowl exposed, slit on display, pearl yearning, as I observe."

Angela quivered intensely—tips hardening more, a new droplet of her excitement descending her inner leg. "You’re wicked... I’m getting so damn aroused once more. My clit’s still surging from your dick abrading it... and now I must head back without anything below? Each stride will chafe my naked folds, make my pussy lips rub and glide... damn, Dexter, I’ll mark a path."

I clutched her rear—digits sinking into the soft mounds, parting them a bit so the chilly evening breeze touched her bare rear opening and leaking gash. "Perfect. Let it leak. Let Mira detect the scent as we near. Let her witness how my wife’s pussy appears post-urine bath and thigh-fuck with my rod."