Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 413: Angela’s Plan : Switch Places

I pressed in nearer, my lips grazing her ear. "Hear me out... I've devised the scheme for Mira. Tonight, I'll take her. Fiercely. Thoroughly. I'll bring her to climax repeatedly until she can't recall her identity anymore."

"Yet throughout, I'll act like it's you—muttering your name, addressing her as 'Angela,' behaving as though I've confused her in the shadows. She'll recognize the deception... but she'll allow it to proceed. She's too deeply entangled to halt now."

Angela rolled her eyes with flair, though her lips twisted into a sly, endorsing grin. "Husband... you're wicked."

Her nails trailed softly down my torso, directly above the zipper of my trousers, where my erection lingered semi-rigid from before. "But I adore it. Immensely. Seeing her shatter while feigning purity? Exquisite."

Angela's gaze sparkled with unadulterated, mischievous joy as she nestled tighter, her leather-bound breasts compressing against my torso, peaks firm enough to pierce the fabric and scrape over my top. Her palm remained boldly on my length—gripping, caressing the shape through the cloth as if gauging my girth when I ultimately thrust into Mira.

"Husband..." she murmured, her tone sinking to a near rumble, "allow me to heighten this depravity for you. Let me depict the entire scenario so you're fully erect and dripping by the moment you slip into that bedding."

She ran her tongue over her lips deliberately, tracing the edge as if savoring the corruption already.

"To start, you step outside. Make it evident. Extend those powerful arms, yawn audibly for all to catch, then remark offhandedly like, 'Need to relieve myself. Back soon, girls.' Stroll away leisurely, letting Mira observe your rear tense in those trousers. Permit her mind to wander freely, pondering what's dangling between your thighs."

Angela's digits clenched around my member, delivering a languid, purposeful stroke.

"Once you're away, I'll shift toward her. Murmur gentle, naive nonsense: 'Mira, come closer here—the stone's chillier, my spine aches terribly.' She'll pause—as she invariably does—but she'll shift.

She'll slide into the place on the bed, still heated from my form, still scented with my arousal and your seed from prior. The linens will be moist where I rubbed against them, fantasizing about this evening. She'll sense it on her legs and her core will tighten unwittingly."

She inclined closer, lips skimming my jaw while she went on, her words heavy with desire.

"Next, you return. The cavern's utterly dark—merely lunar light filtering from the opening, sufficient to discern outlines, not features. You'll feign drowsiness, staggering slightly. Climb onto the bed directly behind her."

"Nudge your rigid cock against her backside over the leather—she'll stiffen, breathing catching, yet she won't retreat. She'll curve—just slightly—since her form instinctively craves what her thoughts deny."

Angela's free hand descended to grasp my sac, kneading them softly as she narrated.

"Seize her hips. Firmly. Tug that zipper down sharply in a single motion—reveal her breasts initially so they tumble out full and reddened, peaks throbbing. "

"Continue downward—strip the outfit apart across her rear, push it low enough to uncover her soaked folds and that snug untouched rear you provoked yesterday. She'll mewl—faint, pitiful—but she won't resist. That's your cue."

Her tone grew more shadowy, more obscene, nearly worshipful.

"Slide between her legs, curl your fingers into the gusset of her drenched undergarments—sense their saturation, how the material adheres to her puffy folds like adhesive. Pull them down her legs, bunch them while they're warm and tacky with her essence."

"Then—prior to her uttering your name—force them right into her mouth. Far. Compel her to sample her own flavor—briny, earthy, frantic—while she chokes on the sodden cloth. Her eyes will tear up, cheeks caving as she draws on her own soiled panties like a custom restraint."

Angela rocked her pelvis against my leg once—forcefully—allowing me to detect the dampness in her own outfit's crotch.

"Hold her arms overhead with one grip. Part her legs broad with your knees. Glide your swollen tip along her entrance—allow her to perceive your thickness, how greatly she'll need to yield. "

"Murmur into her ear—deep, gravelly, as if consumed by passion: 'Damn, Angela... you're drenched this evening... I've craved this core all day...' She'll detect the falsehood. She'll know. But her core will quiver regardless—contracting, weeping, pleading. And as you drive home at last—fully sheathed in one savage plunge—she'll cry out around her own panties, the noise stifled into a damp, frantic wail."

She bit my earlobe, her breath scorching and uneven.

"Take her with fury. Ram that wedded core harshly—set her breasts jiggling, her rear quivering beneath your thrusts, make the bedding groan so fiercely Lisa could stir but won't intervene. "

"Each attempt she makes to voice your true name, clamp harder on her arms and snarl, 'Hush, Angela... you'll rouse the rest...' She'll climax intensely enough to drench your sac, legs quaking, tears streaming while she savors her own disgrace."

"And as you ultimately fill her—unleashing strand after thick strand deep into that ignored core until it brims, spilling along her legs—she'll be destroyed. "

"Utterly. She'll remain there later, panties stuffed in her mouth, form shuddering, aware she permitted a deity to possess her while posing as another... and she'll crave it anew come morning."

Angela withdrew slightly to meet my gaze—her pupils dilated, face rosy, mouth ajar.

"Commend me, husband," she urged gently, her voice quivering with longing. "Declare how brilliantly depraved I am."

I wove my fingers into her locks, pulled her head rearward, and claimed her lips once more—ferocious, consuming—tongue plundering her mouth as my other hand clutched her rear firmly enough to mark the leather.

"You're a mastermind," I rumbled against her mouth. "A dirty, flawless, sinister little mastermind. We'll execute it precisely that way. Every element. And afterward... I desire you to creep across, extract those drenched panties from her mouth using your teeth, and lap her clean while she trembles. Savor what I deposited within. Force her to observe as you gulp it down."

Angela groaned—boldly, without restraint—rubbing against me as if the mere description might tip her over.

"Yes... oh yes... I'll devour her semen-stuffed core as you observe. Then I'll kiss her bearing her own essence on my tongue... compel her to confess she relished every instant of serving as your confused slut."

She retreated a step, tweaking her zipper to expose additional cleavage, then bestowed that identical malevolent grin.

"Now proceed as usual. Let her simmer. Let her core pulse in that constricting outfit through the night. By the instant you exit to 'relieve yourself'... she'll be so needy she'll swap spots without me prompting even once."

I inclined my head, my erection aching sharply, fluid already seeping through my underclothes.

The scheme stood firm.

The beddings awaited.

Dusk descended.

And Mira—innocent, fractured, leaking Mira—was poised to fall to me in the most shadowy, nastiest manner imaginable.