God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem

Abigaille knelt before Kafka, her face glistening with his thick, sticky cum, streaks of it dripping from her cheeks, her lips, her forehead, and pooling in the deep valley of her cleavage. Her heavy breasts, slick with his release, heaved with each ragged breath, her purple nipples still hard from the intensity of their taboo act.

She then reached up, her fingers trembling slightly as she wiped the cum from her face, smearing it across her skin before licking her fingers clean, savoring the salty taste with a soft, submissive moan. Her eyes flicked up to Kafka, who was also busy tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, his satisfied grin a stark contrast to the flustered heat in her cheeks.

"Olivia...She didn't see much." Abigaille said, her voice low and breathy as she stood, adjusting her top to cover her cum-covered breasts. "The angle she mostly saw was your back, Kafi, and you so close to me. And since she didn't see much, I just told her you were just helping me blow something out of my eye, nothing else."

Kafka zipped up his jeans, his brow arching with skepticism. "Helping you blow something out of your eye? That's your excuse?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not exactly the award-worthy I was expecting, Mom. You think she bought that?"

Abigaille's lips curved into a wry smile, her fingers still wiping at the cum on her chin, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop.

"Of course she did." She said, as she rolled her eyes. "Olivia's cautious with strangers, downright paranoid sometimes, but with family? With friends?...She's too trusting, Kafi. Way too trusting. She ate it up without a second thought."

Her smile widened, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"...She also feels so guilty right now, so she'd probably believe anything I say."

Kafka's eyes glinted with intrigue, a sly grin spreading across his face as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Wait a sec. So you're saying if I fed her some kind of lie, she'd just...swallow it? No questions asked?"

Abigaille nodded, her expression softening as she smoothed her top, the fabric clinging to her slick skin. "Right now? Absolutely. She feels so awful about what she did—almost stabbing you, Kafi, that she wouldn't dare doubt you."

"...She'd believe anything her son says, no matter how wild."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, catching the suspicious glint in his gaze, the way his grin turned calculating.

"Kafi..." She said, her voice wary. "What are you thinking? What's going on in that head of yours?"

Kafka shook his head, his smile innocent but laced with mischief.

"Nothing, Mom. Nothing at all. Just...thinking about how I'm gonna get close to Mom Olivia, that's all. Gotta make up for lost time, right?"

Abigaille let out a heavy sigh, her hands on her hips as she got up gave him a stern look.

"You can get as close to her as you want, Kafi, if that's what she wants too. But don't bully her, okay? She's got that icy exterior, but inside, she's fragile...More than you'd think."

Kafka chuckled, leaning back on the couch, his arms spread across the backrest.

"Oh, I'm not poking that beast unless I want another knife aimed at my heart. Learned my lesson there." His tone turned more serious, his gaze flicking toward the bedroom door. "But what about us? Our...relationship. What do we do about that? Are we telling her about this?"

He gestured between them, his voice low, the weight of their taboo relationship hanging in the air.

Abigaille's wry smile returned, tinged with uncertainty as she crossed her arms, her breasts still partially exposed under her stretched top.

"I...I don't know, Kafi. I have no idea how Olivia would take it. She's open-minded, but this? It's a lot. For now, we keep it quiet. Let her settle back into the family, get comfortable...We can't spring this on her right away."

Her voice turned firm, her eyes locking onto his.

"And that means no funny business when she's around, Kafi. No getting to close to me, no...this." She gestured to her cum-smeared face, her tone a full of warning and fluster.

But in response, Kafka stood, closing the distance between them in a single step, his hands finding her hips and sliding down to grope her fat, juicy ass, squeezing the plump cheeks with a possessive grin.

"Impossible, Mom." He said, his voice low and teasing. "How am I supposed to keep my hands off when I've got a mother this sexy?" His fingers dug into her ass, pulling her closer, his cock already stirring again in his pants.

Abigaille's cheeks burned, a flustered gasp escaping her as she swatted his hands away, stepping back.

"Kafi, stop it!" She scolded, her voice trembling with both arousal and resolve. "I'm serious. We can't risk Olivia catching us again. I don't want a repeat of today—or worse, her walking in on us in bed."

"...If you dare misbehave, I-I'll make sure that you never get to lay a finger on your mother again."

But instead of panicking like she expected him to, Kafka bent down to her level, his teasing smile widening as he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"Oh, Mom." He murmured, his voice a seductive taunt. "Who do you think is gonna suffer more if we're getting a little intimate, huh? Me...or you?"

His hand brushed her thigh, grazing the edge of her soaked panties, making her shiver.

"...You'll be the one who'll be craving it, dreaming about my cock, won't you?"

Abigaille's blush deepened, her thighs squeezing together as a flood of heat surged through her lower half.

She knew he was right, her body was already aching for his touch, her dreams haunted by the feel of his cock, his hands, his lips. But she couldn't admit it, not now.

"You, obviously..." She said, her voice defiant despite the tremor in it. "You're the one who can't control himself."

She stepped back, pointing a finger at him, her face still flushed.

"So, behave, Kafi. I mean it. Act normal around Olivia, don't scare her, and don't do anything to make this worse. I'm going to get her now, bring her out. You stay here and...get ready to meet her, I guess."

Kafka's smile was reluctant, but he nodded, leaning back against the couch with a dramatic sigh.

"Fine, fine. I'll be a good boy...for now."

His eyes twinkled with mischief, but he raised his hands in surrender, watching as Abigaille adjusted her top one last time, wiping the last traces of cum from her face with a tissue before turning toward the bedroom.

She paused at the door, glancing back at him, her expression a mix of sternness and lingering desire. "I'm serious, Kafi. No trouble." Then, with a deep breath, she knocked softly and called. "Olivia? It's me." before slipping inside, the door closing behind her with a quiet click.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

And not long after, the bedroom door creaked open, and Abigaille stepped out, her expression full of cautious optimism and lingering exhaustion.

Seeing her come out, Kafka sat up on the couch, his eyes snapping to her, but his breath caught when he saw Olivia trailing right behind her.

The sight was almost comical—Olivia, with her icy, commanding presence, her raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes, looked like a mighty black panther hiding behind a cute little bunny.

Despite her formidable exterior, she was visibly shrinking behind Abigaille, her shoulders hunched, her gaze darting nervously toward Kafka as if he were a stranger she feared confronting.

It was absurd, Kafka thought, his dismay mingling with amusement—his own mother, who'd nearly stabbed him through the heart, was now hiding from him like a scared child.

Abigaille then stopped in front of Kafka, Olivia still clinging to her shadow, sneaking quick glances at her son. Her eyes, though wary, glowed with a quiet awe, taking in his transformed appearance—his neat hair, his sharp jawline, the confident ease in his posture.

Even through her guilt and fear, it was clear she was impressed, her heart swelling with pride at how much her boy had changed for the better. But she said nothing, her lips pressed into a tight line, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

Abigaille, noticing Olivia's hesitation, turned with a huff, her patience wearing thin.

"Olivia, come on." She said, her voice firm but tinged with exasperation. "Stop hiding and talk to your son...He's right here."

Olivia whispered something under her breath, her voice too low for Kafka to catch, but it only made Abigaille's irritation flare.

"He's your son, Olivia!" She snapped, her hands on her hips. "Why are you acting so scared? Get over here!"

Before Olivia could protest, Abigaille gave her a gentle but insistent push, nudging her forward until she stood directly in front of Kafka, her face flushed with fluster, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

Olivia froze, her towering presence diminished as she faced her son. Kafka's easy, amused smile only made her more uneasy, his relaxed demeanor impossible for her to read.

She glanced back at Abigaille, desperate to retreat behind her again, but Abigaille's frustrated glare pinned her in place.

There was no escape, so Olivia finally took a deep, shaky breath, bracing herself, and finally locked eyes with Kafka, her expression shifting into something oddly formal, almost detached.

And then to Kafka and Abigaille's utter shock, who were both expecting her to say something warm and motherly, Olivia extended her hand, her posture straightening as if she were at a boardroom meeting.

"Olivia...Olivia Vanitas." She said in a crisp, business-like tone, her voice steady but devoid of warmth, like she was introducing herself to a corporate partner. "It's...a pleasure to meet you."

Kafka's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Abigaille's mouth fell open, and before she could stop herself, she let out an exasperated scoff and swatted Olivia's plump, juicy ass with a playful smack, the sound echoing in the quiet living room.

Slap!~

"Olivia, what in the world are you doing?" She cried, her voice a full of incredulity and amusement. "Who introduces themselves to their own son like they're pitching a business deal?"

Olivia spun around, her cheeks flushing a faint pink, her icy facade cracking as she blinked in surprise.

"W-What's wrong?" She asked, genuinely confused. "I'm...I'm introducing myself to my son. That's how it's done, isn't it?"

Abigaille threw her hands up, her tone veering into disbelief as she gestured wildly at Kafka.

"No, it's not! Who in their right mind shakes hands with their own kid like he's some client? Look at him, Olivia!" She pointed at Kafka, who sat there looking confused, like his mother was trying to sell him a share. "He's your son, not some stranger buying your company! Look at how confused he looks right now!"

Olivia shuffled closer to Abigaille, her voice dropping to a whisper, though Kafka could hear every word clearly.

"I can't help it, Abi." She hissed, her hands fidgeting nervously. "It's been so long since I've seen him, and he looks...so different. He's not the scruffy little Kafi I remember. He's all...grown up, and handsome, and I don't know how to talk to him anymore."

"...I-I just genuinely forgot how to be his mom. And after what I did, a-almost killing him, I don't know what to do!"

Abigaille facepalmed, her hand slapping against her forehead with a dramatic thud as she groaned.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Olivia." She muttered in a exasperated manner, thinking that her best friend really was a hopeless case.

Kafka on the other hand, catching the strained dynamic, leaned forward, his grin softening into something more reassuring as he raised a hand.

"Okay, Mom, if it's that hard for you, I can start us off." He offered, his voice warm and teasing. "I'll break the ice, no problem."

Olivia's eyes lit up instantly, a flicker of relief crossing her face, her icy exterior melting just a fraction as she latched onto the idea like a lifeline.

But before she could nod, Abigaille's voice cut through, sharp and unyielding.

"Not at all!" She declared, stepping forward with a stern look, her hands planted on her hips. "Olivia, you need to learn how to talk to your son properly. You're his mother, not some stranger."

"...You're starting this, and that's final."

Olivia's shoulders slumped, a soft whimper escaping her lips, her formidable presence reduced to that of a pitiful puppy under Abigaille's unrelenting gaze. She glanced at Kafka, then back at Abigaille, her blue eyes wide with nervousness, but Abigaille showed no mercy.

She gave Olivia another gentle push, nudging her closer to Kafka.

"Talk to him, Olivia." She said, her tone firm but encouraging. "Like any mother would after not seeing her son for so long. Just say what's in your heart, what you're thinking. That's enough."

Olivia swallowed hard, her hands fidgeting at her sides, her breath shaky as she realized there was no escape. She had no choice but to face her son, to speak her truth.

Kafka watched her, his expression curious but patient, wondering what she'd say next, while Olivia's gaze settled on his dark eyes that seemed so magnetic—looking so different from the little boy she'd left behind.

And then finally after building her courage, her voice emerged, soft and hesitant but unmistakably motherly, laced with a warmth she hadn't shown until now.

"Kafi..." She began, her voice trembling slightly. "It's...It's been a while, hasn't it? I-I'm so glad I finally get to see you. All this time, ever since I last saw you, I've wanted to be here, with you and Abi."

Her words gained a touch of strength, her eyes softening as she spoke.

"Every day I worked, every moment I spent in the city, I thought of you both. Of coming home, reuniting with our family...I-It's what kept me going."

Abigaille, standing to the side, nodded proudly, her lips curving into a warm smile as she watched Olivia find her footing. The sight of her best friend opening up, even slowly, was a victory after the chaos of the day.

Olivia, noticing Abigaille's approval, felt a spark of confidence. She straightened slightly, her gaze lingering on Kafka's face, drinking in the changes she'd missed.

"I...I was so surprised to see you like this."

She continued, her voice steadier now, though still tinged with shyness.

"When I left, you were my little boy, Kafi. You didn't know much about taking care of yourself, always a bit of a mess." A faint smile tugged at her lips, her eyes glowing with affection. "But now? Look at you. You're so handsome, so grown up. I can't believe it."

"...My little boy, he's grown into a man now."

As she spoke, her emotions swelled, and almost unconsciously, her hands began to rise, drawn toward Kafka's head as if to pat it, a maternal instinct she hadn't indulged in years.

Her fingers hovered, trembling, but then embarrassment hit, her cheeks flushing as she realized what she was doing.

She started to pull back, her eyes darting away, but before she could retreat, Kafka's hand shot out, gently catching hers.

And then then to her surprise, he guided her hand to his head, pressing her palm against his soft hair, his smile warm and inviting.

"You were gonna pat my head, right?" He asked, his voice light but sincere. "Go for it."

Olivia blinked, her breath catching, her hand frozen against his head.

"I...I wasn't sure if I could." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "You never liked it before, when you were younger."

Kafka's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with reassurance.

"That was the old me, Mom Olivia. Forget that version, as the guy in front of you? He'd love some headpats from his mom. Go on, I'm all yours."

Her heart swelled at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through her as she realized just how much her son had changed—not just in appearance, but in spirit.

The sullen, distant boy she'd known was gone, replaced by this open, confident man who welcomed her touch.

Tenderly at first, she began to pat his head, her fingers threading through his hair, rubbing gently.

The sensation was soothing, familiar, and a soft laugh escaped her as she found herself enjoying it, her earlier nervousness easing with each stroke.

Abigaille watched from the side, her smile widening, a lump forming in her throat as she witnessed the wholesome moment. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her heart full at the sight of Kafka and Olivia reconnecting after so long...