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

Angela glanced upward at her—eyelids drooping low, lips forming a relaxed, clever smile. "Look at you, hobbling over like a thoroughly ravished bride... did he open up that snug little ass of yours nicely this morning too? I caught your pleas at dawn... it seemed like you were weeping for more."

Mira halted in her tracks, a humiliated whimper sticking in her throat. Yet she didn't back away. Rather, she covered the remaining space—clumsy and unsteady—and sank down gingerly onto her knees next to Angela, one hand wavering hesitantly above her inflamed pussy before settling softly on her inner thigh.

"It... it aches terribly... but it also feels... nice..." Mira murmured, her voice breaking. "Yours appears... so swollen... like it's still yearning..."

Angela let out a deep hum, parting her legs a bit more—utterly unashamed—allowing Mira to view every puffy feature: how her lips separated slightly by themselves, a slender strand of moisture linking them, the subtle bruises emerging where my hips had pounded against her repeatedly.

I observed them—two recently ravaged women, both staggering, both dripping with me, both flushed and sore—and laughed deeply and quietly from my chest.

"Okay, you two," I declared, my tone gravelly with humor and renewed desire. "You're both moving like you were pounded by a locomotive. Lisa—"

I shifted toward her. She was already gazing—eyes shadowed, pupils dilated, one hand instinctively pressing against 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... softly. Aid them in walking so they won't tumble onto their tender little rears. Lather them, rinse them... ensure every part of those inflamed pussies and sensitive openings receives proper attention."

Lisa's breath caught sharply. Her fingers tightened on her shorts; I noticed the instant her thighs squeezed firmly enough to produce a new damp noise.

"Yes... sir," she whispered, her voice rough and compliant. She advanced—her predatory stride vanished now, substituted by something gentler, more devoted—and extended both hands.

Mira grasped one—tentative, blushing deeper—while Angela took the other with a languid, content smirk.

Lisa assisted them both upright—gradual and cautious—encircling an arm around each waist. Angela pressed against her substantially, breasts rubbing Lisa’s side, her bare body hot and tacky. Mira let out a quiet whimper at every movement, clinging near Lisa’s shoulder as if requiring the aid... or perhaps simply the closeness.

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

"I’ll clean them thoroughly and unhurriedly..." she breathed, her words laced with lewd purpose. "Remove every bit of your cum from their bodies... probe their aching holes clean if required... make them groan beneath my touch as the water flows over us..."

Angela chuckled—gentle and husky—already burrowing into Lisa’s neck. "Mmm... treat my swollen pussy kindly, guard... or I’ll force you to tongue it better..."

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, undulating gently with their movements.

Lisa skipped undressing beforehand. She stepped in while dressed—cargo shorts and cropped tank immediately turning dark as liquid saturated them, adhering to her contours like another layer of skin.

Her nipples stiffened noticeably beneath the soaked material, dark patches visible; the shorts hiked up between her ass cheeks, tracing the full lips of her pussy in vivid outline. She paid no mind. Her focus remained on the two stumbling women she steadied.

"Take it easy," she whispered, her voice soft and calming, yet heavy with the desire that had denied her sleep all night. She aided Angela in sitting first—Angela inhaling sharply as the chill water touched her engorged pussy lips.

The surprise caused her clit to pulse clearly; a small, unintended spurt released, murking the water briefly before clearing.

"Damn... it’s frigid against my worn-out cunt," Angela moaned, but she opened her thighs broader 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 sting he planted deep inside."

Lisa sank to her knees in the pool—submerged up to her chest—and gathered handfuls over Angela’s mound, tenderly cleansing the bloated folds. Her digits were precise yet complete—following the plump outer 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," Angela joked, her tone throaty. "I told you to be gentle with my swollen pussy... not torment it with those feather-light strokes. If you’re cleaning me, do it properly—spread me with your fingers, dig out every trace of his cum still dripping from my ass into here."

Lisa’s breath stuttered. She complied silently—two fingers gliding smoothly into Angela’s slippery, battered cunt, bending to caress the inner walls while her thumb persisted on the clit. Angela groaned—head tilting backward—water splashing at her breasts as her form thrust into the contact.

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

"Your turn, little wife," she uttered gently, reaching out a damp hand. "Come on. Let me cleanse that aching ass of yours as well."

Mira paused—then shuffled ahead, inhaling at each stride. She allowed Lisa to strip off the denim and t-shirt, removing them gradually until nude once more. The brisk air instantly hardened her nipples; her pussy between her legs stayed puffed and shiny, asshole lightly reddened from the earlier expansion.

Lisa drew her into the water—kind but insistent—arranging Mira with her back against her chest. She lathered her hands using a bar from the supplies (plain, without scent) and began at Mira’s shoulders—methodical, slick glides down her back, across the swell of her ass. Upon arriving at the crease, she parted Mira’s cheeks delicately, allowing the water and soap to clear the leftover cum adhering to her rim.

"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 feels stuffed... like he’s still within me..."

Lisa murmured approvingly, nudging just the fingertip beyond the muscle—deliberate, cautious—sensing the warmth and quiver. "He widened you thoroughly. See this lovely hole... still pulsing, still seeping slightly. I’ll purify it deeply for you."

She proceeded systematically—finger dipping in and out with brief pumps, flushing, soaping, until Mira quivered, legs quaking, faint moans resonating from the cave stones. Angela viewed from nearby, one hand idly rubbing her own clit below the surface, gaze heavy-lidded.

Once fully cleansed—skin flushed and radiant, forms freed from the evening’s grime—Lisa assisted them out, drying them with extra blankets.

I awaited with new attire for Angela: a gentle cotton sundress, spacious for her swollen pussy comfort but brief enough to hike up on bending, sans underwear. She donned it with a mischievous smile.

"No panties? You truly are a villain."

I merely grinned.