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

Chapter 681: I’ll Do Anything For You
Abigaille pulled her hand back, her sweet smile widening as she leaned closer, her eyes glinting with playful accusation, her voice a sugary, enticing purr.

“Oh, Liv, darling.” She cooed, her hand resting lightly on Kafka’s thigh, her fingers tracing lazy circles. “Just moments ago, you were all high and mighty, saying you’d reverse what I’ve done, make our boy see that this…closeness between us is wrong, that a mother and son shouldn’t be like this.”

“And yet, here you are, sweet Liv, clinging to him like he’s your man, not our son, acting so possessive, claiming his…well, his parts as yours alone.”

“…My, my, how the tables have turned, haven’t they?” She said, laced with amusement, but they struck Olivia like a blade, her eyes widening with a sudden, shameful realization.

Olivia’s breath caught, her cheeks flaming as she pulled her hand back, her gaze dropping to her lap, her voice a low, defensive murmur.

“That’s…that’s not the same, Abi.” She said, her tone cold but wavering, her eyes flicking to Kafka, then back to Abigaille. “I’m not…I’m not doing what you’re doing. I’m protecting him, saving him from you. Your touch, your…your influence, it’s corrupting him, making him think this is normal.”

“…I’m just…I’m shielding him, using myself to keep him safe from you.”

She told a desperate justification, her embarrassment surging as she realized how flimsy her excuse sounded, how her possessiveness betrayed her own desires.

Abigaille’s laughter was a soft, melodic chime, her eyes sparkling with delight as she tilted her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, Liv, you’re so clever, aren’t you?” She purred, her hand gesturing airily, her smile widening. “Wording it like you’re doing our boy a favor, like you’re some noble shield standing between him and my wicked ways. You’re a businessman through and through, darling, spinning a story to save face.”

“But we both know the truth, you’re just as wrapped up in him as I am, clinging to him like he’s yours alone…It’s positively adorable, how you try to hide it.”

Her teasing was relentless, her gaze locking with Olivia’s, which deepened Olivia’s flush, her embarrassment a fire she couldn’t quench, her lie exposed but her resolve unbroken.

Abigaille’s eyes then drifted to Kafka’s lap, her smile turning coy as she leaned closer, her voice a sweet, enticing whisper.

“Fine, Liv, you win.” She said, her tone conceding but laced with a subtle edge. “You can have his…well, his cock, all to yourself. I won’t touch it, I promise, darling.”

Her words brought a breath of relief to Olivia, her shoulders relaxing, but Abigaille’s smile widened, her voice dropping to a provocative murmur.

“But you know, when our boy gets stiff like this, he likes a little help, doesn’t he? He loves when his Mommy strokes it, massages it, calms it down.”

“A cock that big, left hard for too long it hurts, Liv, aches something fierce…That’s why I was going to touch him, to ease his pain, but you stopped me, and now…well, our poor Kafi’s suffering in silence, all because of you.” She said in a calculated manner, her gaze flicking to Kafka’s bulge, her smile smug, a silent accusation that twisted Olivia’s heart.

Olivia’s eyes widened, a look of realization dawning as she glanced at Kafka’s lap, her gaze landing on the massive bulge, twitching and straining against his underwear, impossibly tight, as if begging for release.

A pang of worry gripped her, her heart lurching at the thought that her son was in pain, that her possessiveness had caused him suffering. She looked up at him, her voice a soft, pleading whisper, her hand gently stroking his abs, her touch caring, soothing.

“Kafi, is that…is that true?” She asked, her eyes shimmering with concern, her fingers tracing his skin. “Are you hurting down there? Is your…your penis really aching because it’s so hard? Did I…did I make you suffer by stopping Abi?”

Her question was fervent, her worry etched across her face, her heart heavy with guilt as she caressed him, desperate to ease his pain.

Kafka, sensing the opportunity, decided to play along, his lips curling into a shy, embarrassed smile, his voice a low, hesitant murmur.

“Yeah, Mom, as embarrassing as it is, it’s…it’s true.” He said, his cheeks flushing, his eyes meeting hers with a bit vulnerability and mischief. “I don’t know why, maybe it’s because it’s so big, but when it gets hard like this, it…it hurts, you know? Aches real bad if it stays like that too long.”

“…And usually, Mom takes care of it, massages it, helps it calm down. She’s real good at it, makes it feel better.” He said, his gaze flicking to Abigaille, who smiled smugly, her eyes gleaming with victory, a silent boast of her closeness with their son.

Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and guilt as she glanced at Abigaille, then back at Kafka, her voice a trembling whisper.

“Abi…you’ve been…doing that for him?” She said, her tone heavy with disbelief, her heart twisting at the thought of Abigaille’s intimate touches, their time alone while she was away. “You’ve been…massaging him there, helping him like that?” Her question was laced with a quiet envy, her guilt deepening as she realized the extent of Abi’s influence, her role as the ‘competent’ mother.

Abigaille’s smile widened, her voice a sweet, smug purr as she leaned closer, her hand resting on Kafka’s thigh, her fingers inches from his bulge.

“Oh, yes, Liv, darling.” She cooed, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “I told you so, didn’t I? Our boy needs his mama’s touch when he’s like this, and I’ve always been there to help, to make him feel better.”

“…If I’d used my hands just now, he wouldn’t be hurting, but you stopped me, and now…well, poor Kafi’s in pain, all because of you, sweet Liv.” She said, her gaze locking with Olivia’s, a silent accusation that deepened Olivia’s guilt, her heart aching at the thought of her son’s suffering.

Olivia’s gaze dropped to Kafka’s lap, her eyes fixating on his twitching bulge, the fabric stretched so tight it looked painful, a silent cry for relief. Her guilt surged, her heart heavy with the realization that her possessiveness had caused this, her refusal to let Abigaille touch him leaving him in agony.

She looked up at him, her voice a sincere, apologetic whisper, her hand caressing his neck, her touch loving, tender. “Kafi, I’m so sorry.” She said, her eyes shimmering with remorse, her fingers stroking his skin. “I didn’t know, I swear. I didn’t know it hurt like this, that you were suffering. I wouldn’t have stopped Abi if I’d known it was this bad. I just…I didn’t want her to—” She faltered, her voice breaking, her guilt a weight she couldn’t shake.

But to her surprise, Kafka’s expression softened, his eyes warm with affection as he shook his head, his voice a low, reassuring murmur.

“It’s alright, Mom.” He said, his hand resting on her thigh, his touch gentle, grounding. “This pain? It’s nothing, really. I can handle it. More Important than that, I wanna respect your wishes, your feelings.”

“You said you want me to yourself, that you don’t want Mom touching me, and that means everything to me. Mom’s had her time with me, when you were away, but right now?…Your opinion’s what matters most.”

“…So, if you don’t want her touching me, I’ll follow that, no matter what.” His words were fervent, his gaze unwavering, a vow of loyalty that made Olivia’s heart race, her guilt tempered by a glowing, overwhelming warmth.

“But…but your pain.” She whispered, her eyes flicking to his bulge, her voice trembling with worry, her hand still caressing his neck. “It’s hurting right now, isn’t it? What do we do about…about that?”

Her question was urgent, her concern etched across her face, her heart aching at the thought of his suffering, her possessiveness warring with her desire to help him.

Kafka’s smile was casual, almost nonchalant, his voice a low, soothing murmur.

“Don’t worry about it, Mom.” He said, his eyes holding hers, his gaze warm, loving. “It’ll go down on its own, eventually. I can wait it out, calm myself.”

“I actually really don’t care about the pain, not when it’s about you, what you feel, what you want. You’re what’s important, Mom, and I’ll do anything to keep you happy.”

His words were a tender confession, his love a fire that warmed her soul, and Olivia’s face paled, her heart racing with an unbelievable joy, her eyes shimmering with awe at his devotion, his willingness to endure pain for her sake.

“Kafi…” She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, her hands cupping his face, her eyes locked on his, radiant with love. “You…You’d do that for me? Go through pain, just to respect my wishes, to keep me happy? You care that much?”

Her question was soft, reverent, her heart swelling with a warmth she couldn’t contain, her lower half tingling with a shameful sensation at his sacrifice, his love a beacon that drew her closer, her lips itching to kiss him, to shower him with her gratitude.

Abigaille’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing with a flicker of frustration, her voice a sweet, strained purr.

“Oh, Liv, you’re so lucky, aren’t you?” She cooed, her hand still resting on Kafka’s thigh, her fingers twitching with restraint. “Our boy’s so devoted to you, willing to suffer just to please you…But you know, darling, that pain won’t just vanish on its own. He needs help, and you’ve made it clear I can’t touch him. So, what’s it to be, sweet Liv? Will you let him hurt, or…?” She asked, her gaze daring Olivia to act, to confront the reality of Kafka’s need.

Olivia’s heart pounded, her guilt warring with her possessiveness, her love for Kafka a fire that burned away her hesitation.

She couldn’t let him suffer, not when her actions had caused this, but she also couldn’t let Abigaille reclaim her role, her smug competence a threat to Olivia’s newfound dominance.

That’s why suddenly, her eyes hardened, a resolute determination dawning as she looked at Kafka, her gaze filled with love, her voice a firm, decisive whisper that surprised both Abigaille and him.

“I’ll handle it.” She said, her hand moving with sudden, daring resolve, grasping his bulge through his underwear, her fingers curling around the throbbing heat, her touch bold, possessive. “I’ll take care of your pain, Kafi. I won’t let you suffer, and I won’t let Abi touch you.”

“…I’m your mother, Kafi, and I’ll do absolutely anything for you.”

Her words were a vow, her eyes shimmering with love, her heart racing with guilt and pride, her core pulsing with a taboo thrill as she claimed him, her resolve a fire that burned through her, a dance with the abyss she couldn’t resist…