Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 748: Hissing Pussy in the Torchlight

I swallowed hard. The way she was looking at me — asking me to stay facing her while she relieved herself — sent a fresh surge of heat straight to my cock.

It throbbed heavily against the thin leaf skirt, the head pushing more firmly against the overlapping leaves.

The combination of her request, the lingering memory of her taste on my tongue, and the fact that she was about to expose herself in front of me made it almost painful.

My voice came out tighter and more strained than I intended.

"Aunt Maya... I’m a man. Please. I won’t be able to handle it if I... if I watch you do that. It’s already hard enough standing here like this."

Maya blinked, clearly confused by the intensity of my reaction for a second.

Then a fresh, deeper wave of embarrassment washed over her face as she fully realized how her request must have sounded. Her cheeks burned, and she quickly shook her head, waving one hand slightly as if to erase the misunderstanding.

"I... I didn’t mean it like that," she said quickly, her voice small and flustered.

"I’m not asking you to... to stare or anything. I’m just scared. After the snake earlier... and the ant... I don’t want to turn my back on the dark completely. What if something crawls up while I’m... while I’m in the middle of it? I won’t be able to react in time."

She pressed her thighs together more tightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The discomfort of holding it was clearly growing stronger; a faint crease of urgency had appeared between her brows.

Still, her eyes stayed fixed on me with a mixture of desperation, residual shyness, and genuine fear of the unknown darkness around them.

"Can’t you just... look somewhere else? At the ground, or at the trees... but still face this direction? That way if something happens, you can still see and warn me. I promise I won’t take long. I just... I really can’t hold it anymore."

Her voice dropped even quieter on the last part, and she glanced away for a moment before forcing herself to look back at me, waiting for my answer with clear anxiety.

I gave a small, stiff nod, deliberately putting on an embarrassed expression as if the whole situation was almost too much for me.

Maya let out a soft, shaky sigh of relief mixed with deep residual mortification. Her thoughts immediately began racing.

She stepped a little closer to the cluster of bushes, still not meeting my eyes. Instead of pulling the leaf skirt down, she carefully lifted the front of it with both hands, holding the fabric up around her waist. The warm light from the torch in my hand fell directly across her lower body, illuminating every detail.

Her neatly trimmed pussy came into full view under the orange glow. The short black strip of hair was slightly damp, and the soft outer lips already glistened with a thin layer of wetness that caught the firelight.

The pink inner folds were just barely visible where her lips naturally parted from the pressure she had been holding for so long.

Maya’s face burned hotter than ever. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the dirt at her feet, refusing to look in my direction even once. Her thoughts continued in a frantic, shame-filled loop.

She slowly lowered herself into a half-squat, knees trembling slightly as she parted them just enough. With two fingers of one hand she gently spread her pussy lips open, fully exposing the sensitive pink interior and the small urethra that had been aching for release. The cool night air hit the wet flesh and made her shiver.

Finally she couldn’t hold it anymore. She released the pressure.

A strong, continuous stream of piss burst out of her with force.

The sound was sharp and unmistakably wet in the quiet night air — a thick, steady hiss as the stream hit the dry leaves and dirt between her feet, splashing lightly and creating a small dark puddle that grew with every second. The noise seemed even louder because of how silent the rest of the island was.

Maya’s thighs shook harder. A soft, mortified whimper escaped her throat as the relief mixed with overwhelming embarrassment.

The stream continued without pause, strong and prolonged from how long she had been holding it. Piss splattered against the ground in a continuous, wet rhythm. Some of it sprayed back lightly against her inner thighs and the short black hairs of her trimmed mound, making everything even wetter and shinier under the torchlight.

Maya’s breathing had turned into soft, uneven pants. Her free hand gripped the lifted leaf skirt tightly, knuckles white. Every second the hissing sound continued felt like an eternity of exposure.

The forceful stream finally began to slow, tapering into a thinner, more intermittent flow before ending in a few last droplets that dripped from her spread lips down into the puddle below. Maya stayed in the half-squat for another moment, trembling, still holding herself open as if afraid that moving too quickly would make the situation even more humiliating.

Her thoughts were a chaotic swirl of residual relief, deep shame, and the acute awareness that I had been present for every wet, hissing second of it.