Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 407: Search For New Shelter

A shiver ran through Angela at the thought, her thighs squeezing tight with a subtle squelch. "They’ll sense that something went down... they’ll catch the scent on me..."

"Let them notice." I drew closer, my lips grazing her ear. "Allow them to detect my cum all over you. Let them witness how deeply you’re marked. And if Mira begins probing with questions... simply grin. She’ll understand. In her heart, she already does."

My eyes shifted to the tree concealing Mira. No stir. Only that uneven breathing—quicker now, bordering on frenzy. The faint, clear schlick of fingers plunging desperately into drenched panties. She hovered near climax. Balancing precariously on the brink.

Angela traced my stare, then molded her form to mine once more, her tone sinking to a seductive murmur crafted solely for Mira’s hearing.

"Come on, husband... let’s return before dawn breaks. I need to rest... sense all this cum churning within me as I feign slumber."

Her hand clasped mine, fingers intertwining effortlessly as if it were utterly ordinary, and we ambled back toward the clearing—measured, intentional paces that swayed Angela’s hips with each step.

Every shift elicited another gentle, moist squish from her thighs, my seed continuing to drip into the saturated panties and stain the fresh trousers. The noise cut through the silent night like something lewd, a dirty echo of my total possession of her.

Then—abrupt, wild footfalls tearing through the bushes.

We halted in our tracks, shared one look, and both cracked wide, sly grins. Mira. Fleeing like a spooked fawn, her gasps harsh and frantic even from afar.

She’d shattered at last—unable to endure one more moment of Angela’s filled pussy making those squelches or the vow of her ass being claimed soon. She dashed off to evade discovery, to dodge confronting what her fingers had wrought in the shadows.

Pursuit wasn’t necessary. She was ensnared already.

Our stroll remained unhurried, the torch’s glow flickering in front until we neared the clearing’s border. There Mira huddled—coiled on the grass, lids clamped shut, breaths too deliberate for true rest.

Faking it. Intensely. Her bosom heaved in short, rapid heaves; her legs clamped firmly as if quelling the throb down there.

Not a single word passed between us.

Another wordless, mischievous exchange lit between Angela and me. Then we settled silently onto the grass side by side.

Without pause, she mounted me, legs spanning my hips, her drenched groin molding hot and tacky to my belly across our garments. Her face nestled below my jaw, breasts plush against my torso, one limb draped over mine.

My arm encircled her midsection, palm claiming the swell of her rear, digits skimming the moist cloth where my release had penetrated.

Exhaustion crashed over us soon after. Angela’s breaths steadied against my throat. Mine synced soon. We slipped into sleep that way—her oozing pussy still dribbling onto me, the aroma of passion heavy in the air—while Mira remained alert just ten feet off, feigning ignorance of the quiet, slick noises from Angela’s restless slumber.

The sun’s rays struck like a blow.

I roused first, eyes fluttering open against the piercing morning light piercing the leaves above. Angela shifted atop me, extending languidly, her pelvis rubbing once over my stiff morning arousal before awareness dawned. She rose gradually, locks tousled wildly, mouth still puffy from the prior evening’s smooches.

Over in the clearing, Mira and Lisa had risen early, perched cross-legged on a smooth stone, passing a water flask and bits of dried fruit from the supplies.

They’d been up for some time, evidently. Lisa appeared refreshed and unaware, prattling on about trivial matters. Mira, however... far from it.

The instant we stirred, her gaze darted our way. Then fixed on Angela. On the crisp new black trousers clinging to her shape. On the subtle—yet undeniable—dark stain lingering at the groin for those who knew to seek it. Mira’s face burned red. She averted her eyes to the turf, acting absorbed in a single blade as though it concealed cosmic truths.

I extended my limbs, letting out an exaggerated yawn as I propped up, allowing Angela to slip from me to the ground. "Oh... morning’s here already," I murmured, tone gravelly from slumber, clawing at my torso like all was routine.

Angela rose fluidly, dusting soil and blades from her legs. She made no effort to conceal the minor flinch upon standing tall—her core surely remained sore and inflamed from the intense thrusting. Arms raised high, her chest arched beneath the top, she scanned the area offhandedly.

"So... what’s the plan for today?" she queried the others, tone cheerful and guileless. "We can’t keep crashing outdoors. Time for proper cover. A secure spot. Dry. Enclosed by walls."

The term "safe" jerked Mira’s attention upward. She stared at me—truly stared—eyes bulging with a mix of alarm and fervent longing. Then, as if recollection struck hard, she blurted out.

"Dexter... remember that cave we discovered?" Her pitch rose unnaturally, laced with a hint of gasp.

"It featured that small brook within... fresh flowing water. And it’s far more secure than exposing ourselves here. Tucked deeper, shielded from storms, beasts..."

I cocked my head, acting as if pondering deeply. "Which cave?"

In a flash, Mira’s complexion shifted from pink to deep crimson. She peeked anxiously at Angela and Lisa—now both observing her—then returned to me. Her phrases spilled forth in a flustered torrent.

"The one... with those ants that stung us. Recall? We had to—to strip off our clo—" She halted abruptly, gaze flitting to the women. Fingers knotted in her lap. "I mean... our footwear. We ditched our shoes thanks to the ants. They swarmed all over."

A beseeching stare flew my way—raw pleading.

I scratched my nape, simulating unease. My reply emerged rough, somewhat bashful.

"Yeah... Mira’s got it. That spot would work. The cave. Ants. Shoes. Everything." I swallowed hard. "Sharp recall. Let’s scout it today. Confirm it’s still good."

Lisa brightened, clueless as ever. "Ants? Gross. But flowing water? Sounds perfect. Count me in."