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Now reading: Chapter 174: Limping Aunt Hina from Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks, a Fantasy novel by PranjalSinghK.

My eyes locked onto Ravina’s pussy—raw, angry red, the lips puffy and glistening, swollen from the brutal pounding of my cock and the relentless slap of my balls against her soaked flesh.

My cock, still half-hard, twitched at the sight, a thick bead of precum welling at the tip, taunting with the mory of her tight, fertile heat.

With a grunt, I shifted out from beneath her, letting Ravina collapse onto the cold stone bed, her body spent, her thighs slick with cum, piss, and the evidence of her ruin.

I tied my leaf skirt back around my waist, the rough fabric brushing against my semi-hard cock, teasing it back to fullness at the thought of her clenching heat.

Ravina propped herself up on her elbows, her voice weak but pleading, her eyes glazed with need. "Dexter... are you leaving?"

I nodded, my gaze lingering on her used-up body, the cum still dripping from her gaping pussy. "Yeah..." I rumbled, my voice low and rough.

"But don’t worry. Soon, we’ll crush the Kronos Tribe..." My lips curled into a predatory smirk. "And then... We’ll all stay together. All the ti."

Veronica shifted behind , her thighs glistening, her pussy dripping onto the stone, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.

"You’re leaving...?" Her voice was husky, disappointed, her fingers twitching like she wanted to grab , drag back into the ss of their bodies.

"But..." She bit her lip, her eyes burning with unspent need, her hand creeping toward her soaked cunt.

Mary, anwhile, was gentle—too gentle—as she caressed Ravina’s sweat-slicked body, her massaging hands sliding over her bruised hips, her swollen tits. Her pussy rubbed against Ravina’s arm, leaving a shiny, sticky trail, but she didn’t care.

She didn’t stop. "Mmm..." she murmured, her voice soft, distracted, her own desire pooling between her legs.

I turned to Veronica first, my gaze dropping to her soaked thighs, the cum and arousal dripping down her trembling legs.

"Don’t worry, Veronica..." I growled, my voice promising filth. "Next ti... I’ll let you serve . Properly." My eyes flicked to Mary, who pouted, her fingers pausing on Ravina’s skin.

"And Mary..." I chuckled, "Don’t worry. I’ll treat your disease."

Mary huffed, her cheeks flushing dark. "I’m not sick!" she snapped, but her pussy twitched, betraying her, a fresh drip of arousal sliding down her thigh.

I laughed, low and knowing, before turning toward the hut’s entrance. The air outside was cool, the sky darkening—night was falling fast. I used Magical Tool as a jetpack and flew down the cliff, getting back to the Kronos Tribe.

The tribe was gathered around the central fire, the scent of roasting mammoth thick in the air—smoky, aty, primitive. The crackle of flas mixed with low laughter, the clatter of stone and bone.

Children chased each other near the edges of the light, their voices high and bright, while the elders huddled, muttering over scraped hides. Won moved with purpose, their eyes flicking to —so curious, so wary, others sothing far darker.

I didn’t care.

I strolled into the heart of the camp like the fire itself bent to my will.

That’s when she saw .

"Dexter!"

Ruth’s voice cut through the noise, sharp with relief, irritation, sothing almost accusatory. She pushed through the crowd, her hands wiping on her leather skirt, her dark eyes searching over like she expected to find answers in the lines of my body.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, grabbing my arm with more force than necessary. "I’ve been looking for you everywhere."

I shrugged, unbothered, leaning into the touch just enough to let her think she had control. "Nowhere." My voice was easy, lazy, lying smooth as oil.

"Just looking around the tribe after I went to pee." I glanced at the fire, the at hissing over the flas, juices dripping into the embers. "Seems like I missed the feast."

Ruth exhaled, sharp, annoyed, but her grip on didn’t loosen. "Anyway." She waved a hand, dismissive, but her eyes lingered—too long, too hungry. "Co on. You need to eat."

She pulled forward, her fingers digging into my skin, leading to the fire’s edge. The heat licked at my face, sweat beading on my skin, mixing with the scent of smoke and roasted flesh. Ruth tore a hunk of mammoth at from the spit, juicy and charred, the fat glistening. She held it out to , her fingers brushing against my palm as I took it.

"Here." Her voice softened, just a little. "It’s the best cut."

I bit into it, teeth sinking into the tough, succulent flesh. Juices burst over my tongue, rich, gay, perfect.

I chewed slowly, deliberately, watching her watch . "Good?" she asked, already tearing off her own piece.

"Better than good." I grinned, wicked, knowing. "You always save the best for , Ruth?"

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "Don’t flatter yourself. I save the best for whoever shows up last."

I laughed, low, dark, but the sound died in my throat as movent caught my eye.

Vera limped into the firelight, her steps uneven, her legs clenched tight together like she was holding sothing back—pain, pleasure, sothing worse.

Every step made her flinch, a small, sharp gasping sound escaping her lips. Her face was pale, sweat glistening on her forehead, but her eyes burned—fever-bright, locked onto .

Ruth frowned, noticing her aunt’s struggle. "Aunt Vera, you should rest—" she started, but Vera cut her off with a look.

"Ruth." Her voice was tight, strained, but firm. "Don’t worry about . I’m fine."

Vera sat down next to —too close, her thigh pressing against mine, her heat seeping through the thin leaf of her skirt.

Ruth handed her a piece of at, but Vera barely glanced at it. Her gaze stayed on , heavy, knowing, burning with sothing she wouldn’t—couldn’t—na.

The firelight flickered across her face, highlighting the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers twitched against her thighs, clenching and unclenching like she was fighting the urge to reach for .

I glanced past her, noticing Kerry laughing with Ada near the edge of the fire. Hina was there too, leaning against a rock, her eyes locked onto . When she caught watching, she nudged Kerry and Ada, murmuring sothing low.

All three turned—and then they were coming over, settling into the circle around like birds perching on a branch.

Ruth frowned as Hina limped the last few steps, her movents stiff, pained. "Aunt Hina, what happened to your leg?" she asked, her voice sharp with concern.

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