Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 433: Mira’s Mid-Air Grind

After removing my clothes, I jumped into the water myself—the icy chill hitting my skin sharply, rinsing off the sweat, semen, and the musky scent left by three women.

My dick dangled thick between my thighs, still semi-erect despite the cold, as it recalled every orifice it had filled. As I stepped out, water streaming down, they all stared—three sets of eyes shadowed with fresh lust.

Lunch came next—basic items from the jeep like bread, cheese, dried fruits, and jerky. We formed a casual circle on the mats inside the cave, now warmer with the rising sun.

Angela rested against me, her dress hiking up her legs; Mira sat with legs crossed, flinching with each movement; Lisa huddled near us both, her thighs clenched as if the soreness lingered.

I spotted Mira first—her stare unfocused, fork hovering midway to her lips, lost in thought.

"What’s bothering you?" I asked softly, placing my meal aside.

She shook her head—swift, almost shamefaced—before letting out a sigh.

"I... I was just thinking about... Nicole and Bill... whether they’ve eaten anything or not..."

Her voice broke on their names—gentle concern weaving into the afterglow of our intimacy.

I examined her expression—real worry present, blended with the remaining blush from our activities.

"Do you want to go meet them?" I asked. "You know I can fly. We can go there whenever we want."

Mira’s gaze locked onto mine—wide, eager, thrilled right away.

"Really?"

I nodded deliberately, confidently.

"Really. We can be there in under an hour. Check on them, bring supplies, make sure they’re fed... and maybe bring them back here if they want. Or just... visit."

Mira’s features brightened—a warm, sincere grin cutting through the shyness and discomfort. She pushed her food away and scooted toward me—cautiously, still favoring her step—encircling my neck with her arms in a quick, intense embrace. Her breasts squished gently against my chest via the t-shirt; I sensed her warmth, the slight quiver of ease and thrill.

"Thank you," she breathed near my neck, her mouth grazing my skin.

Angela gave a soft laugh from my other side, leaning over to plant a kiss on Mira’s temple.

"You’re sweet, even with a sore ass and my husband’s cum still probably leaking out of you."

Mira flushed once more—but giggled this time, airy and unrestrained.

Lisa observed the group—her eyes gentle now, desire softened by a kinder emotion.

"I’ll pack some food for them," she murmured. "Extra blankets, medicine... whatever they need."

I drew Mira nearer—my palm gliding down to grip her rear over the denim, kneading firmly to reaffirm her ownership.

"We leave in thirty," I declared. "Get ready, wives. We’re going to see some old friends... and maybe make the trip interesting on the way."

Mira trembled against me—partly from the intent in my tone, partly from the new twinge stirring between her thighs.

The cave buzzed with energy once more—expectation hanging heavy in the atmosphere.

Flight suits. Supplies. Three women bearing my marks.

And a quick jaunt to visit Nicole and Bill.

But with our group... Simplicity never lasted long.

Once our meal ended—scraps cleared, stomachs satisfied, the cave thick with the aroma of sex and brine—I delved into the System Storage and retrieved the enchanted device. It vibrated lightly in my hand, heated as if it recalled all the lewd acts fueled by its abilities.

I concentrated, commanding it to transform. The cube expanded amid a ripple of fluid metal—panels shifting, engines firing with a subtle azure light—until it settled as a streamlined jetpack on my back. The straps secured firmly over my shoulders and torso, the thrusters purring ready at my will.

Lisa and Angela stood ready—Angela in her brief sundress, sans underwear, the edge flirting high with any motion; Lisa in her moist cargo shorts and short tank top, her nipples peaked from the earlier rinse. I extended my arms.

"C’mere, you two."

They moved in promptly—Lisa to my left, Angela to my right. I encircled each waist with an arm, drawing them snug to my flanks. Their breasts molded plush and heated to my sides; Angela’s uncovered leg slipped between mine, Lisa’s fingers wandering down to stroke the swelling in my trousers as if drawn irresistibly.

But Mira...

No harness slot remained for her. No extra position.

She paused a moment—fresh jeans clinging to her curves, leather jacket fastened just enough to reveal her bosom’s curve—appearing both timid and resolute. Then she advanced silently, looped her arms securely around my neck, and leaped.

Her legs wrapped my hips at once—thighs gripping firmly, her jean-clad mound rubbing directly on the firm outline of my dick through the fabric. She nestled her face into my neck, her breath warm and unsteady.

I let out a deep, shadowy chuckle, satisfied—and mentally adjusted the jetpack. A slender, sturdy band of gleaming metal unfurled from the base, encircling Mira’s lower back and pulling snug.

It fastened with a gentle snap, securing her form to mine torso against torso, pelvis to pelvis, her ample breasts pressing into my chest so intensely that her hardened nipples scraped across our shirts.

Mira released a small, unintended gasp—faint, yet I felt it hum against my neck. Her face glowed red as she drew back slightly to hold my gaze—bashful, expansive, irises dilated even in the cave’s incoming light.

"Comfortable, little wife?" I whispered, my lips touching her earlobe.

She nipped her lower lip—firmly—then dipped her head, her pelvis offering the slightest, involuntary tilt that spread new moisture through her jeans onto my erection.

"Very... tight," she breathed, her tone faltering at the end.

Lisa huffed lightly from my left, mashing her own breasts more insistently into me.

"Jealous already, Mira? You’re literally strapped to his cock like a backpack slut."

Angela chuckled—husky, mischievous—biting at my jaw from the other side.

"She’s dripping through those new jeans. I can smell it from here."

Mira let out a soft whine—flustered, turned on—hiding her face once more, though her thighs clenched harder around me as if unwilling to release.

I triggered the thrusters via thought. Azure flames erupted low and steady—noiseless, potent. The jetpack raised us effortlessly from the ground, fine sand eddying below in a mild swirl.

I ascended—three women attached to me like conquests—Angela and Lisa secured under my arms, Mira fastened prominently in front, her breasts crushed to my torso, her sex rubbing boldly against my stiffening member with each minor adjustment in the air.

We exited the cave entrance swiftly. Salty breeze struck—crisp, sea-tanged, lashing at locks and cloth.

Within my thoughts, the world map display activated—a luminous virtual layer visible solely to me. The icons for Nicole and Bill throbbed consistently in the coastal outpost: unmoved, grouped with their father, Hailey, Megan, and the few other holdouts who had united post the recent gale. No alerts. No relocation. Simply... enduring.

I increased velocity slightly—gale howling around us, yanking at attire and tresses.

Mira gasped once more—stronger now, stifled into my neck—as the jetpack’s hum passed directly from me into her. Her hips circled in small, urgent motions; I detected her core’s warmth seeping through fabric to my pants, the rub converting each flight moment into gradual, agonizing teasing.

Lisa observed—her palm slipping to knead Mira’s butt over the strap, gripping strongly.

"Feel that, little wife? Every bump in the air’s fucking you against him. You’re gonna come before we land if you keep grinding like that."

Angela pressed nearer, her mouth grazing my ear from the far side.

"Make her come mid-flight, husband. I want to hear her scream over the ocean... want the survivors to see us drop out of the sky with three dripping, marked women hanging off you like trophies."