Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks - Chapter 223

Chapter 223: Mother-In-Law’s Twisted Game
Emily laughed, a soft, musical sound, her hips rolling against mine, grinding just enough to make my cock throb. “I want it,” she purred, her voice firm, unwavering.

“And looks like someone’s already ready…” Her hand slid between us, her fingers brushing against my cock through my pants, making me hiss.

I glanced back at the doorway, just in time to see Jennifer’s eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. Shit. She had heard everything.

Emily leaned in, her lips brushing my ear, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I want you inside me, Mike… Now.”

Fuck.

Jennifer’s expression darkened, her fingers clenching into fists at her sides. She wasn’t just watching anymore.

Jennifer was planning.

And fuck if that didn’t make this even hotter.

I could see it in her eyes—the way they narrowed, the way her lips pressed into a thin, calculating line. She wasn’t just watching anymore. She was scheming, plotting, weaving her next move like a spider preparing to trap her prey. And fuck, if that didn’t send a thrill of danger and lust straight to my cock, making it throb painfully against Emily’s thigh.

Emily shifted again, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles, her breath warm against my neck. “Mike…” she murmured, her voice low, husky, “I want you now.”

I swallowed, my gaze flicking back to the doorway, where Jennifer stood, hidden in the shadows, her body tense, her eyes gleaming with something dark, possessive. Fuck. She was going to make her move. Any second now.

And then—

THUMP.

A loud, deliberate noise echoed through the room, sharp and sudden. Jennifer had kicked the wall—hard—with the side of her foot, making the sound unmistakable, unignorable.

Emily jolted, pulling back instantly, and she moved back to the couch, her body tensing as she glanced toward the doorway. “Mom?” she called, her voice laced with confusion and irritation. “What are you doing?”

Jennifer stepped forward, emerging from the shadows with a smug, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Her eyes flicked to me, dark and triumphant, before settling back on Emily.

“I just tripped over my own feet.” She laughed, a light, mocking sound, as she sauntered closer, her hips swaying just enough to draw attention.

Emily frowned, her grip on my shoulders tightening, her body still pressed against mine. “You never trip,” she muttered, her voice sharp, suspicious.

Jennifer shrugged, sliding onto the armrest of the couch, just out of Emily’s reach, her eyes locking onto mine. “Well, I must be getting clumsy in my old age,” she purred, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric, her gaze never leaving mine.

I could feel Emily’s body tense against mine, her trust wavering, her instincts screaming that something was off. But she didn’t push. Not yet.

Jennifer’s lips curved into a slow, cruel smile, where the blanket hid the evidence of my arousal. “You two look cozy,” she murmured, her voice low, taunting, “Almost like you were about to do something naughty.”

Emily’s face flushed, her fingers digging into my shoulder. “Mom—”

“Relax, sweetheart,” Jennifer interrupted, her voice sickly sweet, “I wasn’t spying.” She leaned forward, her gaze locking onto Emily, challenging, daring. “I just wanted to make sure Mike wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Emily scoffed, rolling her eyes, but her body remained tense, her trust shaken. “Mike would never—”

“Wouldn’t he?” Jennifer purred, her voice slick with something dark and knowing, her eyes flicking back to me like a predator sizing up her prey. The way she looked at me sent a chill down my spine, not of fear, but of something far more dangerous—anticipation.

Emily rolled her eyes, but there was an edge to her voice, a defiance that betrayed her annoyance. “Even if he was, so what?” She tightened her grip on my shoulder, her fingers digging in just enough to claim me. “He’s my husband.”

Jennifer’s smile widened, slow and cruel, like a cat toying with a mouse. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “I wasn’t talking about you.” Her eyes locked onto mine, dark and gleaming with something unsettling—a promise, a threat, a game I didn’t even know we were playing yet.

My stomach twisted. Fuck. She was up to something.

Emily frowned, sensing the shift in the air, the tension coiling like a snake ready to strike. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She demanded, her voice sharp, cutting through the thick silence.

Jennifer laughed, a low, mocking sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Nothing, darling,” she said, her voice sickly sweet, “Just reminding Mike here that some things are better left unsaid.” Her gaze never left mine, her smile turning sharper, more predatory. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mike?”

I swallowed, my throat dry, my mind racing. Fuck. She was dangling something over me, something I couldn’t even name yet. But the way she looked at me, the way her lips curved, I knew one thing—she wasn’t bluffing.

Emily glanced between us, her eyes narrowing, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. “Mom, you’re acting weird,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration.

Jennifer shrugged, feigning innocence, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Am I?” she asked, her tone light, almost playful, “Or are you just not used to me spending time with my son-in-law?”

Emily scoffed, rolling her eyes, but there was a tension in her shoulders, a wariness that hadn’t been there before. “Whatever, Mom,” she said, her voice dripping with annoyance, “Just stop making things awkward.”

Jennifer’s smile never wavered. “Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” But the way she said it, the way her eyes flicked to me, dark and knowing, made it clear—she was just getting started.

I could feel the weight of her gaze, the promise in her words, the danger humming in the air. Fuck. She wasn’t just playing games anymore.

She was declaring war.

And the worst—or best—part? I was already losing.

Jennifer settled back next to me on the couch, her thigh pressing against mine, her body radiating a heat that had nothing to do with the movie playing in front of us. The tension between us was thick, electric, a live wire humming with danger and lust. I could feel her breath, hear the way her fingers tapped restlessly against her knee, like she was counting down the seconds until her next move.

The movie droned on, but neither of us was watching. Not really. Not when every shift of her body, every glance from the corner of her eye, felt like a promise—or a threat.

And then—

“Emily,” Jennifer said, her voice sickly sweet, cutting through the silence like a knife. “I just went to the kitchen to make some popcorn. It must be ready now.”

She turned her head just enough to meet Emily’s gaze, her smile too wide, too bright. “Go get them, would you, sweetheart?”

Emily nodded excitedly, already pushing herself up from the floor, her face lighting up at the thought of snacks. “Sure!” she said, brushing off her hands as she stood. “Be right back.”

The moment the door swung shut behind her, Jennifer turned to me, her fingers digging into my chin, forcing my face toward hers. Her eyes burned into mine, dark and hungry, her lips curved in a smirk that promised trouble.

“Now,” she purred, her voice low, dangerous, “we can finally talk.”