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

"Oh my, look at me, still chatting at the entrance like we're old neighbors catching up over tea." June's laugh was bright, elegant, and genuinely amused.

She waved a hand in front of her face in a mock scold.

"I completely forgot I'm supposed to host you two, not interrogate you. I just got so excited seeing Kafka again...and with another absolutely beautiful lady on his arm."

She turned her gaze toward Olivia, a gleam of both mischief and admiration in her eyes.

"You must be here to buy some underwear, yes? I mean, obviously." She chuckled softly. "This is a lingerie shop, after all."

Kafka gave a lighthearted shrug. "Of course it's for her. What kind of man would I be if I dragged her into a lace-covered temple and bought panties for myself?" He grinned. "Pretty sure I'd get labeled a freak before the checkout."

June burst into laughter, then turned her full attention to Olivia again, this time with her eyes narrowing in study.

"But yes...she's the one buying the underwear today."

Her eyes flicked down Olivia's frame, and lingered.

It wasn't subtle.

It started at Olivia's neck, tracing down the soft slope of her shoulders, the curve of her chest, the snug cinch of her waist and then down, hips, thighs, calves.

Her eyes traced every inch with the practiced sharpness of a boutique owner, but it wasn't just professional interest. It was appreciation.

And Olivia felt it.

The heat in June's gaze made her shiver.

June gave a low whistle under her breath. "My, my…"

Olivia gasped softly, clearly stunned by the brazen inspection, and shifted instinctively behind Kafka, as if trying to hide behind his frame. Her fingers dug into his shirt. Her face burned.

June just smiled wryly.

"The last time I met Abigaille, I was sure I'd seen the peak of womanhood." She said, arms folding under her chest. "I thought she was overwhelming when it came to...body proportions. But now…"

Her gaze flicked to Olivia again, openly admiring.

"Now I realize there's always someone even more blessed out there."

Olivia whimpered behind Kafka, visibly squirming.

Noticing this, June blinked, then gave a light shake of her head, chuckling. "Forgive me. I stared too much."

She lifted her hand in apology, her voice slipping into something more professional.

"I swear I'm not usually so inappropriate. It's just rare to see women like you."

Then she gestured toward the back of the shop.

"Honestly, if you'd come in before Abigaille visited me, I wouldn't have had anything that could fit you." She grinned. "But after that visit, I realized my selection was lacking. And ever since then, I've stocked up on bigger sizes. You're not the first to make me rethink the limits of lingerie design, and you won't be the last."

Then she winked, turned around, and waved for them to follow.

"Give me a moment, and I'll bring out a collection fit for queens."

With that, she disappeared behind the velvet curtain with a certain quickness even with her disability to walk.

Kafka also began to step forward, about to follow her—

But suddenly Olivia's hand suddenly latched onto his wrist.

She yanked him down toward her face with startling force, her eyes wide and sharp, an urgent look on her flushed face. Her grip was tight.

Kafka blinked. "Mom?"

"Who is she?!" Her voice was a harsh whisper, just barely restrained. "Who is that lady?"

He blinked again. "Who, June?"

"Obviously June." She snapped, still keeping her voice low. "Why was she talking like that? Like she already knew about Abi? Like she already knew what kind of relationship you had with her?"

"How does she know about all this?! How much does she know? And why is she so familiar with you?!"

Kafka blinked at her rapid-fire panic. Then he exhaled a soft breath and smiled.

She was adorable when she panicked.

Still gripping his sleeve like a woman trying to keep her world from spinning, face full of suspicion and confusion. His heart did a weird little skip.

"Alright, alright." He said, chuckling softly. "I'll explain."

He gently raised a hand and brushed a stray hair away from her cheek.

"This is actually the first time you came here with me, sure. But it's not my first time in the shop."

He shrugged. "I came here with Mom once. She was having trouble finding bras that fit her right, none of the shops nearby had her size. So we wandered into this boutique."

He smirked slightly. "And just like now, it wasn't exactly easy to explain our relationship to strangers. So I just introduced her as...well, my lover."

He met Olivia's gaze meaningfully.

"And that's the version of the story June knows. That's why she assumed Mom and I were...y'know."

Olivia's brows twitched, her eyes scanning his expression.

She got it. She did.

But there was something tight in her chest now.

Her heart thudded, and not in a pleasant way.

"…So Abi was here first." She murmured, lips thinning. "Of course."

Kafka blinked at the tone shift. "Huh?"

"Every single time." She whispered under her breath, barely audible. "Every damn time, Abi gets the firsts."

Kafka didn't respond.

He heard it. Clear as day.

But wisely...said nothing.

She stared up at him, her eyes sharp now, hurt flickering beneath the irritation.

"Okay, fine. The Abi-girlfriend-lover-whatever thing? Let's set that aside." She said, exhaling through her nose. "Even though I am angry about it. You keep acting like I'm one of a kind, but you clearly did the same thing with her."

Kafka opened his mouth to respond, but she didn't let him.

She leaned in, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "But what exactly is going on with you and Miss June? Because she wasn't acting like a normal shopkeeper. She was practically glowing just being near you. What's your deal?"

Kafka scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "…Oh. That."

He cleared his throat.

"Well...when Mom couldn't find a bra size, she had to get a few custom pieces made. Tailor-fitted. So I came back later to pick them up for her."

He shrugged. "June and I got to talking while I waited. She had a couple issues going on in her personal life, and I...kind of helped her out."

Olivia blinked. "Helped her out how?"

Kafka looked even more awkward now. "It's...kind of private."

She stared.

"Even for me?" She asked, her voice dropping lower, colder.

Kafka looked away for a second, scratching his jaw. "…Yeah. Even for you."

He braced for it, for her wrath, her jealousy, a tirade of frustrated swears.

But instead…

She went silent.

Her grip loosened.

And then she let go completely.

Her face turned neutral. Lips pressing into a small line. Her brow twitched ever so slightly, the way it always did when she didn't like something but didn't want to fight about it, at least, not yet.

"…Suit yourself." She said softly, stepping around him.

Then, without another word, she walked off toward the back curtain, her expression unreadable, her footsteps silent.

Kafka sighed and velvet curtain at the back of the boutique fluttered slightly behind Olivia as she disappeared through it, her silhouette gone, her footsteps silent.

And for the first time since arriving in this world Kafka didn't move. Didn't smile. Didn't joke.

He genuinely diidn't know what the hell to do.

This was new...A roadblock.

He'd had it so easy here. Too easy, maybe. Everything until now had flowed naturally, like the world itself had been laid out to favor him.

Women fell into his life with alarming ease. Abigaille, Camila, Nina, Bella...each of them had their own quirks, their own pace, but they all eventually aligned with one core truth of this world: a deserving man should have more women.

That was the belief here. That was what made this world fundamentally different.

Because back in his original world?

This? A setup like this? Would've been a disaster.

Multiple women vying for his love? Juggling girlfriends? Lovers? Wives?

Hell, even flings?

That would've been a recipe for jealousy, heartbreak, screaming matches, accusations, cheating scandals, and full-on meltdowns.

No sane man could ever maintain multiple lovers back home without ending up buried in emotional landmines.

But this world?

This world embraced the idea. It wasn't taboo, it was encouraged. It was respected. People didn't sneer at polygamy; they treated it like the natural result of a man's capability.

A great man, one who knew how to make a woman feel secure, satisfied, alive, deserved to have more women in his orbit.

Not for his own pleasure, but because, in their eyes, a man like that simply brought happiness. If he could make one woman's life bloom, why not two? Why not more?

And so they followed. Abigaille never once questioned it.

Camila used to ruffle his hair and say. "Don't bring in someone boring, alright?"

Nina only asked that he never made her feel invisible.

Bella used to tease him and whisper. "I'll always be your favorite, though, right, Dadyy?" And they meant it playfully.

Even when they saw him glance at another woman on the street, they'd pinch his cheek or twist his waist, but it was lighthearted. Playful. It was part of the dance.

And he had gotten used to that.

He had started to believe it would always be like that.

That anyone who joined the family, his family, would fall into place, just like the others.

But Olivia on the other hand had been different from the start.

But he'd told himself it was only because she was newer.

Because Abigaille had gotten to him first. Because Abigaille had a head start, and Olivia hated feeling behind.

He remembered yesterday, how she bristled every time Abigaille's name came up. How she did things just to prove she could be better.

How everything she did, the blushes, the flirting, even the perversion, seemed to carry this unspoken edge of competition.

And he thought it would pass.

He thought, once she felt more secure, once she realized he cared for her too, she'd fall into sync with the others.

But now…

Now he wasn't so sure.

He replayed her expression in his mind, the suspicion in her gaze, the sharpness in her voice when she asked about June, the bitter edge when she mumbled about Abigaille always getting the firsts.

And then that last look...not yelling, not crying.

Just that silent frown.

The cold retreat.

And Kafka felt a flicker of something strange in his chest.

Damn.

He was starting to realize that Olivia...wasn't like the women in this world at all.

No, she reminded him more of the women from his world.

The ones who grew up thinking love was meant to be exclusive. One man, one woman. The ones who didn't want to share, even if the man in question was worthy. The ones who wanted to be the one, not one of many.

And if she had stayed his mother, just a guardian, just a parental figure, she might've kept swallowing those feelings down. Told herself it didn't matter.

But the moment she let herself believe she was something more, his lover…

That was when everything changed.

He'd heard it in her voice earlier. The weight in her words when she said, "It made me really happy when you called me your girlfriend."

The pride she felt walking into the boutique clinging to him.

The way she looked at June, not with jealousy, but with that almost primal protectiveness.

It was obvious she didn't want to share him.

Not the way the others did.

And Kafka realized, this wasn't just about Abigaille.

It wasn't even about June.

It was about the future. Olivia wasn't going to be easy. She wasn't just going to accept the rest of the family. She wouldn't be content nodding along while he brought more women into their home.

He had assumed he'd be able to introduce them all gradually. That Olivia would meet Camila officially, and then Nina, and Bella. That she'd understand, come to accept it, maybe even enjoy being part of a shared bond. He'd envisioned laughter, teasing, some mild friction at worst.

But now…?

Now he realized he was going to have to work for this.

He'd have to convince her. Explain things he never had to explain before. Unravel the web of lies, white or otherwise, he'd woven to make the present moment smoother. And that was going to be a headache.

Because Olivia wasn't just a conquest.

She was someone who, despite everything, had started to believe she could belong to him.

And now?

Now she wanted him to belong to her, too.

Kafka dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly.

"Shit."

He wasn't afraid.

But for the first time, he realized…

This wasn't going to be smooth.

Taking Olivia's heart had been the easy part.

Getting her to share it?

That was going to be war.

But little did he know that this issue he was fretting over was going to be nothing compared to what was going to happen at the end of the day, turning this day into one that would change this course of his life forever and one that he'd been waiting for a very long time...