Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 414: Mira’s Torn Panties

Throughout the evening, I caught Mira throwing furtive looks my direction—noting the way I managed Angela previously, the effortless control in my speech, how my hand rested claimingly on my spouse's waist.

Whenever their gazes connected, a fierce crimson flush would overtake her face, and she'd turn away swiftly, squeezing her legs tightly beneath the sheer cover as though she might contain the growing discomfort forming between them.

The fading light of sunset had transformed the heavens into rich violets and battered golds, with the final beams vanishing beyond the rough entrance of the cavern. Within, the atmosphere hung heavy—damp from three heated forms, infused with the briny aroma, perspiration, and a subtle iron-like hint from the nearby waters.

Between the slumber mats, I'd positioned the power light, toned down to its faintest golden radiance, sufficient to outline gentle luminous borders on flesh yet shadowy enough to conceal hidden deeds.

Currently, the trio of females rested aligned on the expansive bedding: Angela positioned leftward, Lisa to the right, Mira nestled innocently between them like the treasure she represented. I rose, extended my limbs purposefully, and declared in a deep, relaxed manner:

"I'm heading out to relieve myself. Return shortly."

Not a word came back. Angela offered a drowsy murmur; Lisa stayed motionless. Mira's breath caught briefly—but she maintained closed lids, feigning entry into sleep.

I exited into the refreshing nocturnal breeze. The cavern opening outlined the shadowy sea, surges murmuring confidences upon the stones.

For a complete ten minutes, I roamed—ample time for doubts to dissipate, sufficient duration for eagerness to tighten within my stomach—before reentering quietly, feet padding silently over the rock.

Upon return, the light's faint illumination exposed the alteration at once: Angela and Mira had exchanged positions.

Mira now occupied the left spot—nearer the cavern side, facing the barrier—while Angela occupied the center, respiration steady and uniform (or feigned as such). Lisa stayed rightward, huddled aside.

Ideal.

I approached stealthily—like a specter—settling onto the padding behind Mira, taking care not to disturb the rest. As soon as my torso touched her rear, she tensed, a small intake of air slipping out before I sealed it. My left palm covered her lips—secure, without harm— as my right limb encircled her midsection, drawing her snug against my stiffening erection.

She flinched—a stifled whine resonating against my fingers—form bowing naturally prior to halting in alarm.

"Hush," I exhaled straight into her auditory orifice, mouth brushing the edge. "Silence, little one. Angela... remain quiet. That attire fits you so damn well... adhering to each contour as if applied directly. I nearly lost restraint before... precisely amid the group. Without Mira and Lisa present, I'd have positioned you forward and taken you fiercely prior to dusk's arrival."

Mira's gaze widened in the subdued illumination. She shook her crown desperately—once, again—suppressed objections humming versus my grip, moisture already gathering from utter stunned overload.

My left hold remained firm over Mira's lips—her warm, frantic exhalations bursting against my skin in rapid, urgent puffs. She quivered intensely, her teeth lightly tapping my flesh, but I had further to dismantle her resolve. Far from finished.

My right palm lingered spread over her rear globe for an extended instant—gripping, massaging, allowing her to sense the complete force of my claim.

Afterward, I permitted my digits to wander downward, catching beneath the slender dark band at her right flank. I held off on pulling harshly. I drew—sufficiently to let the band dig into her tender flesh, extending it until the material strained tight over her front.

I pressed close until my mouth contacted the curve of her ear, tone a deep, silky rumble audible solely to her.

"Angela... these skimpy dark undergarments have tormented me throughout the day," I murmured, drawing each syllable lingering and intentional over her senses.

"Each bend revealed the shape of your intimate folds via them... damp already, engorged already. You've drenched them fantasizing of your mate's member, correct? No falsehoods—I detect it."

Mira's skull whipped negatively—urgent, beseeching—stifled "mmph-no!" noises thrumming against my clasp. New droplets escaped her tightly closed lids, trailing warm and swift along her face, falling upon my forearm. Yet her pelvis... heavens, her pelvis revealed her utterly. It angled rearward subtly—adequate to grind her exposed rear orbs firmer versus the robust, pulsing shaft confined in my trousers.

I laughed gently—shadowy, content—straight into her auditory sense.

"You're quivering fiercely, darling... yet your frame speaks honestly. See your dampness already. These underthings are destroyed prior to my removal."

I inserted my fore and central digits further beneath the right band—sensing the band extend and pinch into the junction of leg and torso. Then I drew—gradually initially, relishing each minor rupture of fiber.

The sewing yielded in a tantalizing sequence of small bursts. The right band separated fully from the side opening—material fluttering free versus her leg like shredded satin. Mira's entire frame convulsed sharply—suppressed wail evolving into a choked, shrill lament echoing through my hold. Her rear tightened instinctively around emptiness, a new surge of moisture permeating the surviving central panel.

I offered no pause for respite.

I adjusted my hold to the left band—identical digits slipping beneath the whole section—and tugged once more.

This rip echoed stronger, more moist—the material parting along the join with a gratifying, lewd noise.

The whole anterior section drooped ahead, unsupported at both ends. Merely the saturated insert adhered tenaciously to her puffy intimate lips, adhering slickly to her creases like an extra layer, shaded nearly ebony centrally where her excitement had permeated entirely.

I permitted the damaged undergarments to suspend there across numerous pounding pulses—tormenting her with the view and odor of her personal urgency. The shredded dark fabric dangled from the fractured band like a sordid emblem, oscillating faintly with each quiver of her legs.

Mira's weep arrived instantly and devastated—profound, throaty, frame shuddering as humiliation scorched her. She attempted to swivel her head rearward to view me—gaze broad and misty with dread—but my grip on her lips kept her visage ahead, compelling her to endure each moment sans relief.