Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 426: Jealous Wife: Mira Beat Me to Anal

Mira's exhausted, perspiration-soaked form completely gave way on top of me—her ample, rising breasts pressed firmly into my torso, her stiff nipples grazing my flesh with each feeble, gasping inhale she took.

Her devastated openings—both her pussy and anus—quivered and throbbed around the lingering thickness of my shaft, which remained partially embedded in her convulsing pussy from the last time I'd turned her over, refusing to release even the slightest bit of that eager heat.

Heavy, milky strands of my semen oozed from both orifices in slow, lewd streams, flowing along her inner legs and gathering warm and tacky on my balls, blending with the traces of her explosive squirts until the area between us became a slippery, dirty chaos.

She had passed out intensely—eyes flipped back to show only whites, mouth hanging open and dribbling a slender line of saliva onto my shoulder blade, her entire body trembling in small, unaware tremors as if it were still pursuing the savage climaxes I'd forced from her.

Damn, she appeared flawless in this state: totally shattered, possessed, dripping my essence from every assaulted part, an ideal semen-drenched plaything for our expanding harem.

Angela crouched next to us on the bedding, her legs spread apart as if she couldn't resist showcasing her leaking pussy, her fingers lazily rubbing her engorged clit over the thin material of her assassin outfit.

Yet her gaze—intense, ravenous, tinged with that jealous intensity—fixed on Mira's destroyed body: how her anus stayed slightly open even then, flushed and swollen, expelling tiny bubbles of my dense cum with each reflexive squeeze.

The manner in which her pussy folds dangled bloated and crimson, continuing to flutter as though pleading for additional cock even after the rough treatment.

Angela's breathing arrived in quick, envious bursts, her own nipples poking through her outfit like projectiles, a clear damp patch spreading between her thighs from the arousal the view sparked in her.

"Husband..." she murmured, her tone fracturing with that ideal mix of sulky fragility and intense, yearning desire, her bottom lip quivering as she inched nearer, one hand extending to drag a fingertip through the milky fluid seeping from Mira’s rear.

"I’m so damn jealous... Didn’t you want to claim my virgin asshole first? You promised me—whispered it in my ear night after night while you pounded my messy pussy raw, your breath warm on my neck, telling me how you’d part my cheeks and thrust that massive cock deep into my snug little back entrance until I screamed and squirted like a dirty whore..."

"How you’d make it yours, widen it until it stayed open for days, dripping your cum every time I sat. But Mira... she got there before me. She took your first anal conquest. I feel... upset. So hollow back there, craving for you to force it apart just like you did hers."

Her statements lingered thick in the steamy cave atmosphere, infused with that real pain under the flirtation—her eyes glistening with unspilled tears of irritation, yet her pussy giving her away entirely, contracting noticeably and shedding new moisture down her legs at the simple idea.

Damn, my shaft pulsed more strongly within Mira’s oblivious warmth, expanding against her fluttering insides solely from Angela’s desperate plea.

I laughed deeply and ominously, the vibration echoing through my torso like a storm, and extended my available hand—the one not holding Mira’s slack body in place.

I tweaked the end of Angela’s charming, tilted nose between my thumb and forefinger, pulling it teasingly yet solidly enough to cause her to wrinkle her face in that cute, shamed manner, her face turning scarlet as a gentle, complaining sigh slipped from her open mouth.

"Don’t be upset, my eager little cumslut," I whispered, my voice lowering to that rough pitch she always softened for, threaded with dirty assurance as I tightened the tweak a touch more, causing her eyes to tear up and her legs to press together urgently.

"Your snug virgin asshole’s been mine since the beginning—kept it like a treasure, awaiting the ideal time to tear it apart and turn you into my anal pet."

"Mira was merely... a trial run. A messy, bushy-pussied starter. But you? You’re the star attraction. I’m going to ravage that wrinkled little bud until you’re pleading me to halt and weeping for extra, gushing so intensely you inundate the entire damn cave."

Angela’s breath caught abruptly and eagerly, her pupils widening to dark voids, a new surge of wetness was hearable as it dripped from her outfit’s damaged front. "R-Really, husband...? You promise...?"

I let go of her nose with a gentle snap, gliding my hand downward to cradle her reddened cheek—thumb spreading a line of Mira’s escaped cum over her face like a mark of battle—then pulled her into a tight embrace.

My cock—still rigidly firm, veins prominent, coated in Mira’s juices and my own congealing semen—pulsed demandingly against her smooth belly through the cloth, the plump tip releasing a new drop of precum that absorbed into her outfit like a seal.

She moaned into my neck, rocking her hips ahead instinctively, attempting to wedge my length between our bodies, her breasts surging against my torso as she held on like a savior.

"Promise," I snarled into her ear, biting the lobe sharply enough to elicit a yelp from her. "Now let’s settle our passed-out slut... then I’m going to torment that envious little frame of yours until you can’t recall what envy feels like."

I maneuvered Mira’s inert bulk gently—extracting my cock from her gripping pussy with a moist pop that unleashed a new torrent of cum, splashing warm over my leg and the padding.

She muttered something unclear in her daze, body jerking like a damaged doll, but I positioned her on her side regardless—sliding a crumpled sleeping bag beneath her head as a cushion, one hand delaying to grip her branded ass cheek dominantly, observing more of my semen bubble out from her open anus in foamy, vulgar bursts. "Sleep well, baby girl... You deserved it after enduring that ass-thrashing like a pro."

Then I faced Angela again—seizing her by the neck in a relaxed yet commanding grip and pushing her down onto the mat next to Mira.

My digits caught the tall neckline of her assassin suit—that form-fitting, glossy black garment that had been taunting me the whole night, adhering to every contour as if glued—and I ripped it.

The material yielded with a fierce—ripping directly down the front in uneven, frayed pieces that bared her ideal, swelling breasts immediately: plump, fair orbs jiggling loose, nipples dark and erect like candy drops yearning for mistreatment.

I kept going—pulling fiercer, demolishing the fabric across her toned abdomen, down to her pubic area—until the groin area tore as well, the stitches bursting with damp snaps as her bare pussy emerged: folds swollen and shining, clit pulsing clearly, a dense thread of her excitement linking from her entrance to the destroyed cloth like a depraved summons.

"Husband—! Don’t rip them...!" Angela gasped, her voice combining whiny objection and lustful moan, her hands hovering ineffectually over the shredded borders, face aflame as the chilly cave breeze touched her bare flesh.

"I really liked this suit... it made me feel so sexy... like your perfect little assassin slut..."