Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks - Chapter 26

26: Kerry’s Hissing Pussy 26: Kerry’s Hissing Pussy Kerry strode out in front-totally sure of herself, barefoot and not giving a damn about what might be hiding in the grass.

I couldn’t stop staring, honestly, laser-focused on how her hips moved with every step, how her ass just did its thing, that leaf skirt or whatever hugging her just right.

Now, the heat between her thighs wasn’t exactly subtle anymore-a shiny little trail running down her leg.

And that scent-God, talk about distracting-thick, sweet, almost wild, just hanging in the air like she owned the night.

“Dexter, you can piss here.” She pointed to a patch of grass, her voice practical-maternal.

“And remember-when you poop, dig a hole…” She mimed the motion with her hands, her fingers pressing into the earth.

“And after you’re done, fill the hole again with the dirt.” I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere.

Because Kerry was still standing there.

And if I played this right?

I was about to see everything.

The way her thighs would part.

The way her pussy would glisten.

The way she would let go-completely, unfiltered-right in front of me.

The thought made my cock throb, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“Aunt…” I asked, my voice curious-innocent.

“How did you come up with this method?

Covering your poop like that?” Kerry let out this long, world-weary sigh, fingertips drifting through grass tall enough to hide secrets.

Sunlight glinted off the thin layer of sweat clinging to her skin-it made everything look sort of golden, kind of cinematic.

Her chest rose, fell, caught on the edge of old memories.

You could see her nipples, still stiff, pushing up against the leaves like they remembered too-like her whole body was stuck in that flashback.

“Yeah, everybody decided, apparently…” she muttered, voice echoing with that bittersweet nostalgia.

Her eyes went all faraway, like she’d just wandered off inside her own head.

“I remember when I was a kid…” Her lips twitched, a small, wry smile playing at the corners.

“I only came out here to take a piss, honestly.” Her face twisted up, like she’d just sniffed three-week-old milk.

“Sometimes my damn foot would just-” she actually curled her toes midair, made this gross little mashing motion-“go right into someone’s poop” “Ugh.

Seriously,” her nose crinkled up all sour.

You’d swear she could still smell it-maybe she could.

“Totally disgusting,” She gave another shiver, hands fisted up like she wanted to punch the memory in the face, then let ’em drop again.

“Made us all dirty.

And it happened all the time-everyone stepping in it, tracking it back to the huts…” She exhaled sharply, her voice dry.

“So after a lot of discussion-and a lot of complaining-” she chuckled, her eyes flickering to me-“we came up with this method.” She gestured to the ground, her voice practical now.

“Dig a hole, do your business, cover it back up.” Her fingers mimed the motions-digging, squatting, burying-her movements efficient, learned.

“Keeps everything clean.

Keeps the smell away.” She nodded to herself, like she was proud of the solution.

I just nodded, but honestly, my brain was already off to the races.

Kerry hadn’t moved.

Still right there, like an itch you can’t scratch.

I was about to see her fall apart in real time.

She tried to sound steady, but you could hear this weird split in her voice-like she was half here, half somewhere else.

Her fingers kept fussing with the edge of her leaf skirt, like the thing was gonna disappear if she let go.

“So Dexter, you gotta follow these rules too…” She didn’t even bother waiting.

Instead, she just kinda sank down, toes digging into the dirt, dried leaves shuffling around her legs.

The noise was all sharp and papery.

She looked like she was trying to hold herself together with nothing but willpower and sticks.

And then- She lifted it.

Okay, buckle up, here’s my take: My heart nearly stalled when I saw her fingers snag the hem of her skirt, jerking it up inch by teasing inch.

Was she trying to kill me?

Because, wow-that wild patch of curls between her legs was something fierce.

No neat, manicured look here.

Nah.

She rocked a bold, black thicket-messy and alive, all glossy and tangled, practically daring you to look away.

The scent hanging in the air?

Raw and heady, cut with that animal tang you can’t fake.

She parted her legs, and holy shit-the hair gathered in these tight, shiny coils, clung to skin that was flushed and so obviously slick.

Every inch screamed want.

Breathing felt like a full-on effort.

Her scent hit me like a damn punch-rich, wild, made my head spin.

It didn’t just tease; it took up space, got under my skin, curled up somewhere low and hungry.

Heat practically steamed off her, thick as a summer night, made my mouth water before I even got close.

Her pussy lips?

Already parted, plump and flushed-that kind of needy, shiny wetness you can’t fake.

Couldn’t help but stare at her clit too, bold and swollen, almost throbbing in plain sight.

Seriously, it was basically calling my name.

Then- Her fingers moved.

Two of them, spreading herself wide, stretching the flesh around her pussy like she was offering it to me.

The pink of her cunt was obscene, wet, the inner lips puffy and slick with need.

And then- -the first hiss.

A shaky line of piss trickled out of her, pattering into the grass with this sticky, awkward sound.

The hiss-god, just so raw and messy-shot right through me, and yeah, I could feel my dick jolt hard like it was wired straight to that noise.

Kerry’s knees nearly buckled.

Her thighs locked up, trying to steady her as the stream slapped down-little wild bursts spattering everywhere, like rain hitting hot concrete.

She bit down on her bottom lip, but some messy noise still escaped her-somewhere between a weak whine and a desperate moan.

Her stomach knotted up tight; every inhale came out shaky, her shoulders all hunched and tense.

And, God, the noise-the hiss, that rhythm of droplets, the splashy chaos-it just did something primal to her.

It was brutal and raw and, Christ, kind of perfect.

Every squirt made her body jolt, her pussy clench up, her clit beating a frantic pulse while the last bright smear of arousal slid down, mingling with the piss…thick, glossy, making these wild little trails on her skin.

And then- The way she milked herself dry.

Her fingers mashed her lips together, squeezing ’em almost like a dude wringing out the last drops from his dick.  One sad little spurt dribbled down her legs, but, nah, she wasn’t finished-her hips kinda rocked, muscles tightening, trying to shove out every stubborn drop.  That last bit actually hissed into the grass, then faded out to a quiet, annoying drip… drip… drip.

She kept her fingers there, twitching, trying to milk out anything left-just like some guy squeezing the base, determined to get rid of those drops that never want to quit.  No joke, it didn’t matter how much she wriggled around or tried to pinch it off-there was always that single, stubborn drop.

Every damn time.

Just hanging out, glistening and all cocky, clinging right to the corner of her pussy or tangled somewhere in those chaotic curls.

Like, what was it waiting for?

Some wind to show up and do the job?

Somebody to finally swipe it away?

Waiting to be found.

Waiting to be licked away.

God, just looking at her-laid out like that, so damn wet, nothing left to the imagination-yeah, my dick ached, honestly.

Couldn’t stop staring.

Pre-cum was already leaking, sliding down as I just stood there, kinda stunned, not even trying to hide it.

The grass underneath her was drenched, practically sparkling from what she’d let loose, and honestly, the smell-her piss tangled up with that thick, heady scent of her own want?

Damn, it was almost dizzying.

When she was done, she glanced up at me- -and froze.

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