Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 548: Denied at the Brink of Spurting

Before I could even utter a sound, Diana moved in again, her tongue darting out like a viper to caress the throbbing head of my cock as it slid, slick and gleaming, from between Angela’s flushed breasts. The sheer sight sent a jolt through my hips—her lips, plump and moist, parting ever so slightly to welcome me, her tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around the ridge. The warmth of her mouth, the flick of her tongue, it was as if she were tasting me, relishing every moment. "Mmmph—damn, you're hard," she moaned against my body, her voice vibrating through my cock and straight to my groin. "But I bet you'd be even tastier if Angela here assisted me a bit more, wouldn't you?" Her fingers tightened around my base, her thumb pressing into the prominent vein pulsing along my length, a clear gesture of possession. Angela’s breath caught, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched Diana’s tongue trace the seam of my cock, lapping up the pre-cum gathered there. Her own nipples, taut and aching, brushed against my skin with her every shift, sending waves of pleasure through me. "Damn it," she whispered, her voice raspy with desire, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her own thighs. "Diana, you—" "Hush," Diana interrupted, pulling back with a wet, resonant smack, her lips shimmering, a strand of saliva still linking her tongue to my cock. She licked her lips, her eyes dark with an intense hunger. "Just concentrate on him. Let's see how deep we can make him tremble." Her grin was mischievous, her fingers sliding down to join Angela’s, both now grasping the base of my cock, their thumbs grazing each other as they moved in unison. "Ready?" Angela’s eyes blazed, a mixture of defiance and yearning evident. She offered no verbal reply. Instead, she leaned forward, her breasts pressing more firmly against my cock, the damp lace of her bra doing little to conceal the hardening of her nipples at the intimate contact. "Yeah..." she breathed, her voice thick, her gaze fixed intently on mine. Diana wasted no time. She plunged back down, her mouth engulfing the tip of my cock as Angela’s breasts enveloped the rest. The two women moved in a perfect, sinful synchrony—Angela’s breasts tightening around me as she lifted, Diana’s mouth taking over as she descended, their tongues and skin working me over in a manner that blurred my vision. The air was filled with a symphony of exquisite sensations—the wet squelch of Diana’s mouth, the rhythmic slap of Angela’s breasts against my skin, the moist, slick sound of Diana’s tongue as she savored me between each of her ministrations. "That's it," Diana moaned around my cock, her voice muffled but clearly brimming with delight. "Take him deeper, Angela... Let's make him plead for it." Her free hand descended, her fingers joining Angela’s, both now stroking the base of my cock in rhythm with their movements, their thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just below the head. I groaned, my hips bucking autonomously, my fingers tangling in Angela’s hair as I drew her nearer, urging her breasts to squeeze me even more tightly. "Damn—just like that," I growled, my voice rough, my breath coming in ragged pants. The pleasure was overwhelming—their mouths, their hands, their bodies all conspiring to push me to the brink. Angela’s eyes darkened with a primal hunger. She sensed my imminent climax, the way my cock spasmed within her cleavage, the way my breath hitched with every motion. She bit her lip, her own arousal slick between her thighs, yet she pressed on. Leaning closer, her voice dropped to a low, husky whisper. "You like that, Dexter? You like the way we're taking control of you?" Diana pulled back just enough to flash a grin, her lips swollen, her chin glistening with saliva. "Oh, he loves it," she purred, her fingers tightening their grip on my cock. "Don't you, baby?" I couldn't respond. My body was taut, the pleasure escalating to an unbearable crescendo. I could feel it—my release, imminent, just a few more movements away. My muscles coiled, my toes curled skyward, and I knew I was about to— Angela’s hand slammed down onto the base of my cock, her grip like steel, abruptly halting the climax just as the first spasm coursed through me. "Not yet," she growled, her voice deep and possessive, her eyes locking with Diana’s. "You must satisfy your wife first." Diana’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing a deep, intoxicating crimson. The word 'wife' struck her like a lash—sharp, unexpected, and impossible to dismiss. It wasn't merely a title; it was a declaration of ownership. A stark reminder of her place in my life, my bed, my world. And the way Angela had uttered it—like a bold challenge, a daring proposition—sent a fresh surge of heat igniting between her thighs, her panties already damp with longing. I didn’t allow her the luxury of prolonged contemplation. With a single, swift, dominating motion, I pulled her flush against me, my lips crushing onto hers in a kiss filled with raw hunger and absolute control.

She molded against me, her body arching as my erection—still firm, still throbbing—met the tenderness of her abdomen. The warmth radiating from her skin pierced the thin material of her dress, and I could sense her dampness, her readiness.

I pulled away from the kiss, my lips descending her neck, my teeth lightly brushing her pulse point, eliciting a gasp. "Mmm, your taste is exquisite, Diana," I whispered against her skin, my voice a deep, resonant growl.

A soft moan escaped her, her fingers weaving into my hair as I continued lower, my hands already slipping beneath the edge of her dress.

I lifted it, drawing it off her frame piece by piece, unveiling the smooth, sun-kissed skin beneath.

The garment settled at her feet, leaving her exposed before me in only her dark blue bra and panties—a matching ensemble, exquisitely lacy, with elaborate embroidery tracing the contours of her hips and the fullness of her breasts.

Yet, it wasn't the needlework that captivated my gaze.

It was the moisture.

A dark, spreading patch blossomed on the fabric of her panties, clinging to her, thoroughly saturated with her arousal. The aroma of her desire saturated the air—rich, sweet, and utterly intoxicating. And her nipples—hardened, yearning buds—pressed against the delicate lace, seemingly pleading for my attention.

I found myself drawn in.

My fingers traced the damp area, applying gentle pressure through the fabric, and I felt her shudder, her breath catching as I playfully tormented her. "And what is this, Diana?" I inquired, my voice laced with feigned innocence.

"Why is there dampness right there?" I circled the spot once more, my touch as light as a feather, intentionally maddening. "Did merely observing me with Angela cause you to become so wet?"

Diana's face flushed even more intensely, her cheeks blooming with a mixture of mortification and longing. She understood I was deliberately provoking and teasing her.

"Y-You... hmm... please don't torment me..." she stammered, her voice airy, her hips subtly shifting as if seeking an escape from my touch. Yet, she did not move away. She was unable to.

My gaze shifted upward, and that's when I observed it—her underarms. Dark, soft curls peeked out from beneath her arms, a wild, untamed contrast to the rest of her flawless physique.

My erection pulsed at the sight. There was something incredibly captivating about it—this primal, unvarnished aspect of her, something she hadn't bothered to conceal or refine for me integrity.