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

Abigaille, wanting to stir matters even more, seized the moment to push the boundaries further. Her eyes flicked to Olivia, a teasing glint dancing in them as she leaned closer, her voice a sultry murmur that dripped with provocation.

"Come on, Liv." She purred, her fingers still brushing Kafka's bulge, tracing its daunting outline with shameless familiarity. "You should touch Kafi's cock too. Feel how strong our son is underneath, how...impressive."

"...Once you do, you'll be so proud, just like I am."

"I mean, forget competitions, top grades, or fancy universities. None of that compares to the pride of having a son with a cock this massive."

"He's one in a billion, Olivia, a stallion. No one else in the world comes close. So, go on, feel it. Feel our son's pride."

Olivia's cheeks flamed, her heart pounding as she shook her head vehemently, her voice trembling with defiance.

"No, Abigaille, I'll never do that!" She said, her words sharp but unsteady, her eyes darting away from the tempting sight of Kafka's bulge. "I don't need any...massages, or whatever you're calling it. That's too far!"

Her protest was fervent, but her gaze betrayed her, flickering back to the thick, serpentine shape, a forbidden curiosity gnawing at her resolve.

Abigaille's smirk widened, her eyes glinting with knowing amusement as she continued to stroke Kafka's bulge.

"Oh, please, Olivia." She said, her voice a teasing challenge. "It's so obvious you want to feel it. I've seen how your eyes keep drifting down there, how they linger on his cock...You're craving it, aren't you?"

"...Just be honest—reach out, touch it, feel what makes him so special."

Her fingers moved up and down the shaft, caressing it with a shamelessness that made Olivia's breath catch, her body responding with a heat she couldn't suppress.

Kafka, sensing the tension, joined in, his voice full of innocence and curiosity, his gaze fixed on Olivia with a disarming sincerity.

"It's no big deal, Mom." He said, his tone light, almost encouraging. "If you're curious, go ahead and feel it up. I don't mind showing off."

"Honestly, I don't get why Mom's so fascinated by it, but if it's really that appealing to women, you should give it a try."

"...Touch it all you want, I'm cool with it." His smile was careless, his eyes wide and innocent, as if he were simply inviting his mother to admire a trophy, not his own penis.

Olivia's face burned, her heart racing as her son's Invitation echoed in her mind. For a fleeting moment, she wavered, the idea of touching him—feeling the weight, the strength of him, tempting her in a way that. horrified her.

It would be so easy, especially with his permission, to give in, to let her fingers brush that massive bulge.

But the thought snapped her back to reality, a surge of panic flooding her as she realized she was teetering on the edge of Abigaille's trap, on the verge of becoming the same vixen who'd manipulated her own son's innocence.

"No!" She blurted, her voice sharp with desperation, her hands clutching his shoulders to ground herself. "There's no need, Kafi. We should just...eat dinner. That's what we came here for. I don't want to...to touch anything." Her words were a frantic retreat, her body trembling with the effort to resist.

Abigaille sighed, her tone disappointed, though her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"You're one tough nut to crack, Olivia." She said, her voice laced with playful exasperation. "But fine, have it your way." Her smile turned wicked, a glint of defiance in her gaze as she added. "If you don't want his cock, then I'll just take it myself."

Before Olivia could process her words, Abigaille dropped to her knees, her movements fluid and brazen, her fat ass jutting out as she positioned herself directly in front of Kafka's bulge.

Olivia's jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her as to her utter shock, for some reason whatsoever Abigaille suddenly pressed her face against the massive outline in his boxers, her cheek rubbing against the thick shaft with a shameless, submissive reverence.

The sight was staggering, erotic in its audacity,

Abigaille's brown.skin glowing as she nuzzled the bulge, her nose tracing its length, her lips brushing the fabric in a slow caress.

"Abi!" Olivia cried, her voice thick with disbelief, her hands reaching out to grab Abigaille's shoulder, tugging weakly. "What are you doing? Why are you...rubbing your face all over his penis like that?"

"...Stop it, you're acting like a maniac!"

Abigaille didn't budge, her hands gripping Kafka's thighs as she continued her worshipful caress, her voice a sultry murmur muffled against the fabric.

"Mmm, Olivia, you don't get it." She said, her tone rich with conviction, her cheek sliding along the shaft. "When Kafi's cock comes out, it's a big deal—a monumental deal. And as his mother, it's my duty to appreciate it, to embrace it, to show how much I care."

"...This is my offering, my way of honoring him."

She moved lower, her nose nudging the base where his balls strained against the boxers, her touch submissive yet commanding.

"It's like...giving gifts to a temple after a blessing, or praying for good health. I'm showing my gratitude for our son, for this massive, perfect cock, by worshiping every inch of it."

Olivia's eyes widened, her voice rising with incredulity.

"You're crazy, Abigaille!" She said, her hands still tugging futilely at Abigaille's shoulder. "This isn't normal—you can't just...do that! It's insane!"

But even as she protested, her gaze was locked on the scene, her body betraying her with a surge of arousal, the erotic display stoking a fire she couldn't extinguish.

Abigaille's smile was serene, her eyes half-lidded as she pulled back slightly, her voice a low, dirty purr as she described her actions. "Crazy?" She echoed, her cheek sliding along the shaft, the fabric taut against its hardness. "No, Olivia, I'm only crazy for him."

"This cock...it's harder than stone, longer than my face, so thick I can feel every vein through his boxers...And right here" She nuzzled the base, her nose pressing against the root. "This is the stem, the foundation holding up this glorious tool. Without it, it'd collapse under its own weight."

Her lips brushed higher, toward the tip, her nose nudging the head, a playful giggle escaping her.

"And this part? So cute, even hidden like this...But when it's free, up close? It's a dragon, Olivia vicious, dangerous, unstoppable."

Olivia's breath stopped, her body trembling as Abigaille's words painted a vivid, taboo picture, each description fueling her arousal despite her horror.

She glanced at Kafka, expecting shock or discomfort, but he stood calm, his expression one of mild amusement, his hands resting lightly on Abigaille's head.

And to make it worse, he took it further, his fingers threading through Abigaille's hair as he pressed her face deeper into his bulge, a soft chuckle escaping him.

"It tickles, Mom." He said, his voice full of innocence and teasing. "You're being so aggressive, so ease up a bit." His tone was light, but his actions were bold, guiding her face along his shaft, amplifying the erotic display.

Abigaille giggled, her voice muffled against his boxers.

"I can't help it, Kafi." She purred, her lips brushing the fabric. "You're showing off this monster, flaunting it like this—it's your fault I'm so worked up."

"...And now you're pushing me in? Naughty boy." Her eyes flicked up to him, sparkling with mischief, her submission a performance.

Kafka's grin widened, his gaze shifting to Olivia, his tone still disarmingly innocent.

"Well, it does feel good, though." He said, his voice tinged with curiosity. "I don't know why, but it does. The way Mom's rubbing my cock—it's nice, kinda tingly."

"...Do you know why it feels so good, Mom? Why it feels so good Mom rubs her face all over my nether region." His eyes locked onto hers, wide and questioning, as if genuinely seeking an answer, oblivious to the deeper implications of his pleasure.

Olivia's heart pounded, her mind scrambling for a response. If she answered truthfully—admitted that Abigaille's actions were stimulating him, arousing him, she'd risk shattering his innocence, revealing the sexual undercurrent he seemed unaware of.

But silence felt like complicity, a step deeper into the taboo web Abigaille had woven. "I...I don't..." She stammered, her voice faltering, her cheeks burning as she averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

Kafka tilted his head in response, his expression one of mild disappointment, his voice a soft, teasing murmur.

"That's a pity, Mom." He said, his eyes searching hers with a disarming sincerity. "I thought for sure you'd know why it feels so nice...But you know what? I don't really care about the why."

"...What feels good, feels good, right? No need to overthink it."

His grin was charming, his tone light, but the way his hips shifted slightly, pressing his bulge harder against Abigaille's face, betrayed a deeper satisfaction that Olivia was starting to notice...