Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 1: Pervert Dexter

THIRD PERSON POV

From a wealthy American family comes Dexter Williams, a 22-year-old guy. His dad serves as a key congressman, while his mom runs a thriving enterprise.

Boasting handsome features, Dexter towers at 6’2” with a chiseled physique displaying defined abs and cascading dark locks, radiating privilege and magnetism.

Dexter has truly built his image as a notorious womanizer. Countless flings highlight his magnetic pull. Once his education wrapped up, his mother proposed a role in her company.

He jumped at the chance and settled into the workplace, where his allure swiftly won over his mom’s assistant.

Before too long, he won her over, their heated trysts unfolding directly in his workspace. His mother, fully in the know, opted to overlook it all, her devotion to her sole child eclipsing any worries. Plus, thanks to his father’s political clout, risks remained minimal.

In just half a year, Dexter had indulged with almost all the office’s appealing females. His charisma and bedroom talents proved unbeatable, and he seized every opening that arose.

Around then, he crossed paths with his mother’s acquaintances, a group of accomplished entrepreneurs, including several wedded ones. Dexter’s powers of seduction showed no limits as he dropped by their residences, sparking scorching romances that had these ladies yearning for repeats.

Dexter’s talents in the sack were the stuff of myths. He’d refined his abilities so finely that a mere caress could push any lady toward bliss. His exceptional size, a commanding 8-inch member, etched itself into his lovers’ memories, rendering ordinary partners unsatisfying afterward. Just picturing his skills could buckle any woman’s resolve.

A standout tryst involved a wedded colleague of his mother’s, whom he’d been watching for weeks. This breathtaking lady in her upper thirties sported curves that ignited his passions.

That night, using a business chat as cover, he showed up at her place. The air crackled with tension, and soon enough, they tumbled into her sleeping quarters.

With masterful strokes, Dexter roamed her form, leaving her breathless. His caresses sparked jolts of delight surging inside her. He mastered the art of tantalizing and gratifying, edging her close then easing off, prompting her desperate pleas.

At last, he slid inside her with a measured push that drew a moan of delight from her lips. His rhythm was flawless, every motion striking perfectly to stoke her fervor.

While thrusting deep, his fingers wandered across her skin, taunting and delighting her in novel fashions she’d never known.

Her peak loomed near, her frame quaking in eager suspense. When release hit, it burst forth in a scream of rapture, her form shuddering from the orgasm’s force.

Post-climax, she reclined there, drained yet content, aware that Dexter’s gifts would linger in her thoughts forever. She was ensnared, hooked on the sensations he evoked.

Dexter’s hunger for charming taken wives intensified per victory. He relished the pursuit’s rush and the taboo thrill of such bonds. The varied shapes and yearnings of their figures stoked his fires, rendering every liaison headier than before. Each lady he claimed marked another triumph of his charm and carnal expertise.

One afternoon, Dexter’s dad got a nod to an elite gathering of the town’s top figures. Spotting a chance to connect his boy with big names, the father brought him aboard.

Upon entering, Dexter got swarmed by his dad’s pals, mostly in their mid-fifties. In the crowd of aged countenances, his focus snagged on a female beside one fellow.

Her bold gown flaunted her bust and bared her legs via a bold side cut. The guy presented her as Helena, his spouse.

Dexter clasped her hand, letting his digits stay a beat too long while gently grazing her palm. Helena countered with an eye roll and lip nibble, a move that fired up Dexter’s urges.

He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on her, mentally stripping her bare. On his way out, he slyly passed her his contact, murmuring in a gravelly tone for her to reach out.

Helena, 35 with a figure begging for notice, grasped Dexter’s intentions clear. Her spouse, pushing fifty, failed to meet her cravings anymore, and she viewed Dexter as the key to her wildest urges.

That same night earlier, she’d messaged him her location, beckoning him. Dexter pulled up to her entry, pulse racing with eagerness, his arousal stirring at the prospects ahead.

The door swung wide to reveal Helena in sheer mesh undergarments, her silhouette teasingly hidden, her stare brimming with a craving equal to his.

Helena drew Dexter in, her tone thick with want. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” she murmured, her digits gliding along his torso lines, her look devouring his frame, pausing at his crotch’s swell. “I’ve been waiting for you, you naughty boy. I was starting to think you’d stood me up.”

Dexter, gaze shadowed by passion, flashed a smirk her way, his stare absorbing her form, scarcely veiled by the mesh outfit. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Helena,” he replied, voice deep and gritty, his palm extending to grasp her bosom, thumb grazing her peak, eliciting a sharp intake. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, about you, about your body, about the things I want to do to you.”

He produced a bunch of prophylactics, displaying no fewer than ten. Helena’s stare grew wide in astonishment, a blend of startle and thrill crossing her features, her breathing catching as she eyed the items, then shifted to Dexter, her expression alight with the same fierce appetite as his.