Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 406: Angela: It’s Dirty There

"W-what about this hole...?" I murmured, my tone deep and dirty, ensuring the words drifted clearly through the branches to whoever lurked nearby. I traced the edge slowly, sensing the tiny muscle twitch beneath the touch.

"You've acted like such a perfect slut with your pussy this evening... yet this eager little ass hasn't received a single bit of focus, right?"

Angela freaked out right away, her voice breaking apart. "N... No—hold on—that's... that's not— it's filthy there, please—" Her phrases spilled out in a desperate hurry, her thighs squeezing tight as though she could conceal the spot I was already easing apart.

I didn't pause for approval.

I pressed forward.

My thumb slid inside beyond the first joint with a gradual, unyielding force—her asshole fighting back for a brief, quivering moment before yielding with a gentle, slick pop.

The warmth within burned hot, silky walls squeezing around the invader as if eager to draw it further in.

Angela's spine bowed sharply. "Aaah—fuck—!" The cry tore from her throat, hoarse and shattered, bouncing against the trees. Her legs wobbled; she pressed both palms to the bark ahead, her ass jutting back at me in total submission.

Her pussy—still oozing heavy strands of my previous release—contracted noticeably, another milky drop trailing along her inner leg and falling to the ground.

"See?" I snarled, rotating my thumb gradually within her, detecting the tight band spasm against it. "Not so filthy when it's gripping like that, huh? Your ass is desperate for it."

I bent over her form, my mouth grazing her ear as I thrust my thumb in short, obscene motions. "Admit it, slut. Admit how much this untouched little hole craves being widened and stuffed, just like your pussy was."

Angela's head fell low, strands of hair veiling her features, yet I caught the conflict of humiliation and desire in her tone. "I... I can't—fuck—it's overwhelming—aaah—god, it aches so nicely—" She shifted backward on impulse, impaling herself further on my thumb despite her soft protests.

I chuckled deeply and sinisterly, the vibration rising from my torso as I eased a second finger in beside the first, spreading them apart leisurely, purposefully, expanding Angela's snug asshole further with each unhurried turn.

Her rim pulsed and quivered over my joints, producing those vulgar, damp sucking sounds that lingered faintly in the quiet night—insistent tugs revealing her body's true hunger, no matter the complaints from her lips. The blaze inside her felt sinful, smooth walls holding me as if reluctant to release.

But then I looked aside—and spotted her. Mira had pulled completely behind the sturdy trunk by now, no longer stealing glances.

Simply concealed. Totally hidden from view. Only the subtle, uneven catch in her breath revealed her presence—rapid, light gasps she attempted (without success) to stifle. She wasn't observing any longer.

She was tuning in. To every obscene noise, every slick slurp, every phrase we uttered. Likely with one palm pressed to her lips and the other thrust into the front of her pants, digits plunged into her drenched folds, grinding herself fiercely while she deluded herself about preserving any pride.

Angela's words sliced in abruptly, sharp and gasping, nearly begging.

"Husband... stop... dawn's approaching soon..." She wriggled, her rear cheeks shaking beneath my hold.

"If you claim my asshole at this moment... how will I even muster the strength to get up tomorrow? Mira and Lisa—if they learned I allowed you to ruin my ass here on the ground—they'd surely mock me... it'd be utterly humiliating..."

She spun within my embrace, suddenly molding her body flush to my torso, clutching me fiercely as if grasping her final ounce of restraint. Her damp breasts flattened against me, tips hard as pebbles against her top. Her tone fell to a trembling murmur, mouth skimming my neck.

"Husband... I vow—I promise—I'll offer you my asshole once we reach a secure spot. A secluded one. This location... It's unsuitable. I'm scared... I wouldn't be able to hold back a scream if you took it now. And that could wake Mira... or Lisa... they'd catch it all..."

I halted my fingers buried in her, sensing the wild throb of her passage around them. Then, bit by bit—torturously—I withdrew them with a slick pop that drew a whine from her and left her clenching at emptiness. Her asshole remained faintly open for an instant, rosy and shiny, before it closed up once more.

I lifted my thumb—the one that had been sunk deep in her ass—to my face and breathed in deeply, savoring the subtle, earthy musk from her.

Angela's cheeks flushed crimson immediately, her gaze huge, horrified, and aroused all at once.

I grinned.

She didn't delay.

She seized my wrist, drew my hand toward her lips, and—flushing intensely enough that I felt the warmth from her skin—enclosed my thumb with her plush mouth.

She lapped it spotless with languid, intentional flicks of her tongue, sampling her own flavor through me, her stare fixed on mine throughout. As she finally released it with a quiet pop, a slender saliva thread linked her mouth to my flesh.

"It's... clean now..." she whispered, her voice small and sheepish, though her eyes gleamed with intense desire.

I cradled the nape of her neck and claimed her mouth fiercely—intense, dominant, detecting the mild bitterness of her ass on her tongue.

She sighed against my lips, softening into me as if she'd lost the ability to support herself.

As we parted, breaths coming in harsh bursts, she stooped to snatch the bunched, semen-drenched underwear from the grass. She slipped them on gradually, sliding the sodden material along her legs until it nestled against her dripping pussy once more.

Next were the fresh trousers—smooth, dark, clinging to her shapes as if tailored for her. She fastened them, though a new damp patch was already spreading at the groin, my seed continuing to leak from her in gradual, viscous flows.

She glanced upward at me, nibbling her lip, shifting to a sensible mindset amid the mess.

"What should we say to Mira and Lisa? How come I have these new pants all of a sudden? They'll want to know..."

I lifted my shoulders indifferently, relaxed as could be, though my words projected just enough for Mira—still concealed, still eavesdropping—to overhear it all.

"Invent something. Say we discovered it nearby. Easy. They won't pry. Especially not when they notice your disheveled state—hair tousled, lips puffy, moving like your pussy's still pulsing from the rough treatment."