Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 432: No Underwear Rebellion

Angela gazed upward at her, her eyes partially closed, a relaxed and sly smile playing on her lips. 'See you hobbling here like a bride who's been thoroughly worn out... did he open up that snug little ass of yours nicely this morning as well? I caught you pleading at first light... it seemed like you were weeping for even more.'

Mira halted in her tracks, a humiliated squeak trapped in her throat. Yet she didn't back away. Rather, she bridged the remaining gap—stiff and unsteady—and sank down cautiously onto her knees next to Angela, her hand lingering unsurely above her inflamed pussy before settling gently on her inner thigh.

'It... it's aching terribly... yet it also feels... nice...' Mira murmured, her voice breaking. 'Yours appears... so swollen... as if it's still yearning...'

Angela let out a deep hum, parting her legs a bit more—utterly unashamed—allowing Mira to view every puffed-up feature: how her lips separated just a touch naturally, a slender thread of moisture bridging them, the subtle bruises forming where my hips had pounded against her repeatedly.

I observed them—two women freshly taken, both staggering, both dripping with me, both flushed and sore—and gave a low, shadowy laugh from deep in my chest.

'Okay, you pair,' I declared, my tone gravelly with mirth and renewed desire. 'You're both moving like you've been pounded by a locomotive. Lisa—'

I shifted toward her. She was already fixed on me—gaze intense, pupils dilated, one hand instinctively pressing her drenched crotch through the shorts as if to ease the throb.

'—assist them. Lead Mira and Angela to the tide pools. Clean them up... tenderly. Aid them in walking to avoid tumbling onto their tender little rears. Lather them, flush them... ensure that every bit of those engorged pussies and sensitive openings is properly tended.'

Lisa's breathing stuttered clearly. Her fingers tightened against her shorts; I noticed the instant her thighs squeezed firmly, producing a new damp noise.

'Yes... sir,' she exhaled, her voice rough and compliant. She advanced—her prowling gait vanished, substituted by a gentler, more worshipful demeanor—and extended both hands.

Mira grasped one—wary, her blush deepening—while Angela took the other with an indolent, content smirk.

Lisa aided them in rising—gradual and attentive—encircling an arm around each midsection. Angela slumped against her substantially, her breasts squishing into Lisa's side, her bare form warm and tacky. Mira let out a faint whine at every movement, clinging to Lisa's shoulder as if craving the brace... or perhaps simply the closeness.

As they headed to the cave entrance—three women shuffling jointly, all imprinted by me in varied manners—Lisa looked back over her shoulder. Her gaze met mine—ravenous, beseeching, vowing.

'I'll cleanse them thoroughly and unhurriedly...' she whispered, her words laced with lewd promise. 'Remove every trace of your cum from their bodies... probe their aching holes clean if required... draw moans from them beneath my touch as the water flows across us...'

Angela chuckled—gentle and raspy—nuzzling into Lisa's neck already. 'Mmm... treat my swollen pussy kindly, guard... or I'll force you to lap it healed...'

Lisa directed Angela and Mira to the shallow tide pool gathered within the cave—supplied by a steady drip from above and sporadic high-tide rushes that rendered it salty and chilly. In the morning glow, the water gleamed transparent, not deep enough to reach beyond their waists when standing, undulating lightly with their motions.

Lisa skipped undressing beforehand. She stepped in dressed—cargo shorts and cropped tank rapidly darkening from the immersion, molding to her contours like another layer of skin.

Her nipples stiffened noticeably beneath the damp cloth, dark patches visible; the shorts wedged up between her buttocks, tracing the full lips of her pussy in vivid lewdness. She paid it no mind. Her focus remained on the two stumbling women she upheld.

'Take it easy,' she soothed, her voice subdued and calming, yet heavy with the desire that had denied her sleep all night. She assisted Angela in descending first—Angela sucking in a breath as the cool water kissed her swollen pussy lips.

The chill caused her clit to pulse obviously; a small, unintended spurt leaked out, murking the water briefly before clearing.

'Damn... it's frigid against my exhausted, fucked-raw cunt,' Angela moaned, but she widened her thighs regardless, permitting the water to wash off the hardened cum and squirt residue stuck between her legs from the night. 'But it feels nice... easing the fire he ignited within me.'

Lisa sank into the water—immersed up to her chest—and gathered handfuls over Angela's mound, softly cleansing the bloated folds. Her digits were cautious yet complete—outlining the puffed external lips, slipping just within to flush further, thumb grazing Angela's hypersensitive clit in languid, taunting loops that caused Angela's hips to twitch.

'Mmm... guard... you're too soft with me,' Angela provoked, her tone throaty. 'I meant be gentle with my swollen pussy... not torment it with these feather-light caresses. If you're cleaning me, do it properly—finger me wide, dig out every bit of his cum that's still oozing from my ass into here.'

Lisa's breath faltered. She complied silently—two fingers gliding smoothly into Angela's slick, battered cunt, bending to caress the inner walls as her thumb continued on the clit. Angela groaned—head tilting back—water splashing at her breasts as her form bucked against the sensation.

Mira observed from the side, remaining upright unsteadily in her fresh jeans, face burning. Lisa looked across, her eyes shadowed.

'Your turn, little wife,' she uttered gently, offering a dripping hand. 'Come closer. Allow me to wash that aching ass of yours as well.'

Mira paused—then shuffled ahead, inhaling sharply with each stride. She permitted Lisa to strip her of the denim and t-shirt, easing them away gradually until nudity returned. The crisp air instantly peaked her nipples; between her thighs, her pussy stayed swollen and shiny, her asshole showing a faint red edge from the morning's expansion.

Lisa drew her into the water—kind yet resolute—arranging Mira facing away against her chest. She lathered her hands with a bar from the supplies (plain, without scent) and began at Mira's shoulders—deliberate, slick glides down her spine, across the swell of her rear. Reaching the crease, she parted Mira's cheeks thoughtfully, allowing water and soap to clear the traces of my cum adhering to her tight ring.

'Still sensitive there?' Lisa breathed into Mira's ear, one finger tracing the edge—feathery, playful, not entering. Mira mewled, nodding rapidly.

'Y-yes... it... it still seems stuffed... like he's lingering inside me...'

Lisa murmured approvingly, nudging just the pad of her finger beyond the muscle—gradual, mindful—sensing the warmth and quiver. 'He widened you well. See this lovely opening... still twitching, still seeping slightly. I'll purify it thoroughly and deeply for you.'

She proceeded systematically—finger delving in and out with brief pumps, cleansing, foaming, until Mira quivered, legs quaking, quiet moans reverberating from the cave surfaces. Angela observed from nearby, one hand idly rubbing her own clit beneath the surface, gaze heavy-lidded.

Once they were wholly cleansed—skin flushed and radiant, forms freed of the night's grime—Lisa aided them out, drying them with extra blankets.

I awaited with new attire for Angela: a gentle cotton sundress, relaxed enough for her swollen pussy's comfort but brief enough to hike up if she leaned, sans underwear. She donned it with a naughty smile.

'No panties? You truly are a villain.'

I merely grinned.