Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 402: Angela’s Stammered Lies

I drew nearer, my mouth grazing the curve of her ear, murmuring steamy and dirty words as I withdrew and drove forward with more force—my shaft plunging deep, churning her drenched core with a slick squelch.

"That’s right, you dirty slut... swallow my thick cock all the way into your naked pussy... sense it spreading your inner walls apart while Mira sees you wriggle... you’re leaking so heavily, I feel your pussy nectar trickling over my balls..."

Angela’s inner muscles pulsed frantically around my length—gripping like a frantic hand, her sensitive bud scraping the ragged, shredded denim on every push.

She suppressed a groan—"Mmmph... oh f-fuck..."—twisting it into a pretended cough, yet her pelvis snapped back fiercer, her core drawing me in further.

Mira lifted herself onto one arm, worry blending with a deeper emotion—intrigue, desire. "You sure? You sound... odd. Like you’re hurting or whatever."

I circled my hips—pressing the swollen tip of my shaft against her deepest barrier, scraping every vein over her tender front passage. Angela’s gaze fluttered upward briefly as new pussy fluid spurted from around my root, drenching my balls and spilling onto the ground.

I murmured once more, tone gravelly with passion: "Good girl... squeeze that messy pussy tight on my rod... You crave being taken like this, huh? Naked core filled to bursting while your friend observes... I wager Mira’s moistening up seeing you quiver... picturing my shaft wrecking her as well..."

Angela’s fingers reached behind—claws scraping my side, wordlessly urging me to thrust stronger even while she struggled to remain silent.

"I-I’m... f-fine... really..." Angela stuttered, her tone rising sharper with each syllable as I began a deliberate, torturous pace—brief drives that held me embedded, tip tormenting her sweet spot without mercy.

"Just... ah... sore... from... from walking... nnh... earlier... hah... my legs are... are shaking..."

The slick squelch of her drenched core engulfing me was hardly hidden by the snapping flames, but Mira’s head angled a bit, as though she caught the noise.

Angela’s bud snagged on the frayed denim ridge, chafing harshly with every small shift. A new surge of pussy fluid gushed around my shaft, wetting the earth under us.

Angela chuckled—forcing it out, ragged and faint, the noise fracturing into a strangled sob as I pounded deeper once, tip battering her core’s end, forcing her depths to release more fluid around me.

"It’s... it’s just the f-fire... hot... hah... makes me... makes me feel... nnghh... flushed... You know?"

Her tone broke on that final bit—yet another stifled groan escaping: "Mmmph... oh g-god..." She clamped her teeth on her cheek’s inner side, lids pressing closed, legs quivering fiercely as I accelerated—quick, savage drives that rubbed my shaft on her G-spot and bud at once.

I breathed even raunchier words, warm against her nape: "Yes, you dick-craving slut... sense my rod hammering your deepest spot... widening your naked pussy walls till they quiver... you’re about to climax on my shaft right now, right? Gush everywhere on the ground while Mira eyes your expression warping... she realizes you’re being taken... she smells your leaking core from there..."

Angela’s core gripped like iron on my shaft—passages convulsing madly, drawing me in as a small spurt of her fluid seeped from my base, drenching the ripped denim more. "N-no... I’m... I’m okay... just... just need to... to lie still... hah... husband’s... husband’s keeping me w-warm... nnnghh... f-feels... good..."

The final syllable melted into a hushed, frantic groan—shrill and shattered—her fangs burying into her limb to silence it. Her form gave her away entirely: pelvis swaying to match my drives, core twitching on each profound rub, bud scraping harshly on the denim’s brink in thrilling torment.

"Angela..." Mira breathed, tone soft and hesitant. "You look like you’re... in pain. Do you need water or... something?"

I swirled my hips lazily—agitating her inner sanctum, tip trailing over each tender fold in her quivering core. Angela’s palm darted forward—clutching the turf ahead, joints pale—as her bud pulsed on the coarse denim, engorged and hypersensitive, every rub firing jolts across her frame.

"N-no... I’m... I’m okay... just... just need to... to lie still... hah... husband’s... husband’s keeping me w-warm... nnnghh... f-feels... good..."

Angela faltered, her voice climbing to a suppressed keen on that last part—"Mmmphhh... f-fuck..."—as I thrust forcefully again, embedding fully, shaft throbbing within her twitching core.

Her passages surged wildly, attempting to draw out my release, a new flood of her fluid bursting around my root, wetting the ground and her legs.

Mira’s gaze expanded—shadowed by abrupt realization, irises dilated, legs pressing together urgently now.

She stayed silent after that. She merely observed—out of breath, ravenous—stare fixed on Angela’s features twisting in quiet bliss, on how her figure shifted faintly with every concealed drive, on the expanding damp stain shadowing her pants.

I murmured more vulgarity into Angela’s ear, pounding fiercer—brief, vicious impacts that caused her core to slosh clearly: "You adore this, don’t you, you nasty bitch? Having your naked core ravaged harshly while Mira gawks... she’s squeezing her legs... dreaming of my shaft widening her tight pussy just like this... grip tighter, slut... draw on my rod with that convulsing passage... I’m going to fill your deepest spot with seed while she sees you shatter..."

Angela’s tone splintered once more—hardly audible over the flames: "G-good night... Mira..."

But those syllables shattered under another gagged, hushed groan—"Mmmphhh... f-fuck... deeper..." —as I drove hard, sinking to the base, shaft throbbing in her convulsing core. Her frame seized—core passages fluttering madly, bud scraping the denim in torment-bliss, a small gush escaping with every fierce drive.

Mira offered no response. She only gazed—legs locked, breaths uneven, digits clawing the turf.

She understood.

And she refused to avert her eyes.

The flames popped steadily—cozy blaze, damp denim, exposed core widened around shaft, and Mira staring as if desperate to cross the fire and participate.

Angela’s breaths arrived in brief, urgent gasps now, her form shuddering against me as I maintained the unyielding tempo—shaft crashing deep, tip battering her core’s barrier on every plunge, her naked passages clutching like a voracious hand on my thickness.

The slick squelch noises intensified, scarcely concealed by the fire’s snap, her pussy fluid spurting in small jets with each powerful shove, drenching my balls and the earth beneath.

I breathed even dirtier words, mouth skimming her neck: "Sense that, you shaft-deprived slut? My thick rod battering your naked core passages... forcing you broader on every impact... your bud’s chafing raw on that shredded denim, right? Stroking your puffed-up pearl till you gush over everything..."

"Mira’s eyeing you quiver like a slut in rut... she craves this shaft too... grip firmer, Angela... draw me in... force me to release inside you while she watches your expression crumble..."