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

Chapter 682: Taking Care Of Her Son’s Needs
Olivia’s bold declaration,.her hand gripping Kafka’s throbbing bulge, vowing to ease his pain herself, had been a vow of love, her eyes shimmering with devotion, her resolve a fire that burned through her shame.

But Kafka’s response caught her off guard, his smile gentle, his head shaking as he leaned closer, his voice a low, soothing murmur that tempered her fiery determination.

“Mom, you don’t gotta force yourself.” He said, his eyes warm with concern, his hand resting on hers, still curled around his cock through his underwear. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable, and that’s okay. You’re new to this, and it’s a lot.”

“Just leave it to Mom, she’s done this before, knows how to handle it. She doesn’t mind, and I don’t want you doing something that’s hard for you.” His words were tender, a protective gesture that made her heart warm, but they also sparked a flare of jealousy, a fear of losing this intimate moment to Abigaille’s experienced hands.

“Oh, yes, Liv, darling.” Abigaille cooed, her tone dripping with assurance, her gaze flicking to Olivia’s hand, still gripping Kafka’s bulge. “Let me take care of it, sweet Liv…No need to exert yourself, put in all that effort when I can handle it so easily.”

“I’ve done this for our boy before, and I’m quite good at it, if I do say so myself…You just relax, let me make him feel better.”

Her words were a gentle offer, but the serious smile on her face carried a hint of possessiveness, as if she were stealing a rare, coveted role that Olivia desperately wanted, her confidence so brazen that it that stung Olivia’s pride.

In response, Olivia’s grip tightened on Kafka’s cock, her fingers curling possessively, her eyes flashing with defiance as she shook her head firmly, her voice cold, direct, and laced with a sexy edge.

“No, Abi.” She said, her tone unyielding, her gaze locking with Abigaille’s, a silent command to back off. “Not at all. I can do it, and I’m the only one who will. You’re not touching him, not now, not ever for this…I’m his mother, and this is mine to do.”

Her words were a bold claim, her glare piercing, a protective shield around Kafka, her possessiveness a fire that burned away her doubt, even as her heart pounded with guilt, the taboo thrill of touching her son’s cock sending shivers through her core.

She then turned to Kafka, her voice softening but firm, her eyes shimmering with determination.

“There’s nothing uncomfortable about this, Kafi.” She said, her hand still gripping his bulge, her touch steady despite the trembling in her fingers. “I’m just touching my son’s body, helping him feel better. There’s no shame in that, it’s no different from when I bathed you as a baby, saw you naked, cared for you.”

“…This is just a massage, a way to help you, and I’m your mother, so it’s my right, my duty. Nobody else gets to do this, especially not Abi.”

Her words were a justification, a shield against her guilt, but the taboo sensation of his hardness under her hand, the heat seeping through his underwear, filled her with a shameful exhilaration.

Kafka’s eyes widened, a spark of happiness flashing through them as he pulled her into a sudden, tight hug, his arms wrapping around her, his face buried in her shoulder, her hand still gripping his cock, caught between their bodies.

“God, Mom.” He murmured, his voice thick with gratitude, his breath warm against her skin. “You’re doing so much for me, going this far just to make me happy.”

“I mean, you’ve spent your whole life working, slaving away to provide for us, and now you’re home, doing this for me?”

“…I’m so fucking lucky to have you, Mom. I love you so much, and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone, not ever.” He said, a declaration of love that made Olivia’s heart soar, her eyes shimmering with a radiant joy, her guilt overshadowed by a giddy, overwhelming happiness at his devotion, his hug a tangible proof of his love.

But then Kafka pulled back, his expression shifting to one of worry, his eyes searching hers, his voice a low, hesitant murmur.

“Mom, I’m glad you’re okay with it, but…do you even know what to do?” He asked, his gaze flicking to her trembling hand, still gripping his bulge. “Your hands are shaking, and I…I don’t think you’ve ever done this before. I’m not sure you can handle it, not without knowing how. It’s different, you know?”

His question was gentle, but it struck Olivia like a blow, her cheeks flaming with shame as she bowed her head, her confidence faltering, her ignorance exposed. She didn’t know what to do, not with something so, so massive, and the realization left her speechless, her heart heavy with embarrassment.

Abigaille seized the moment, her voice a sweet, eager purr as she leaned closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, Liv, don’t worry, darling.” She cooed, her hand gesturing airily, her smile widening. “I can help, you know. I’ve got plenty of experience with our boy, and I’d be happy to show you the ropes, teach you how to make him feel real good. It’s no trouble at all, sweet Liv, just let me guide you.”

But before Olivia could respond, Kafka’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he turned to Abigaille, his voice a stern, commanding growl that silenced her.

“Quiet, Mom.” He said, his tone unyielding, his gaze piercing, a rare flash of authority that stunned both women. “This is between me and Mom right now. Don’t butt in, don’t disturb us. Just sit there and be quiet, since this moment’s ours and yours to disrupt.”

He rebuked, his protectiveness a shield around Olivia, and Abigaille’s eyes widened, her sweet smile faltering, her body tensing as she nodded obediently, her pride wounded by his dismissal.

Hearing this, Olivia’s hand trembled around the base of Kafka’s massive cock and unconsciously her hand started to slip into his underwear until she finally gripped the warm, pulsing flesh, an impulsive act driven by the joy of Kafka’s defense, his declaration that this moment was theirs alone.

Her cheeks burned, her eyes wide with a shy, flustered panic as she realized the audacity of her touch, the taboo sensation of holding her son’s cock sending a jolt through her lower half.

Noticing this, Kafka leaned closer, his eyes glinting with a teasing smile, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke in a low, playful murmur.

“Look at you, Mom, diving right in, gripping my cock like you can’t wait to please me. Didn’t even think, did you?…Just slipped your hand in there, feeling that heat, that throb.”

“…Your fingers are shaking, but you’re holding on tight, eager to make your boy feel good, huh?” His tone carried a dirty edge, his gaze locking onto hers, a silent provocation that made her core clench.

Olivia’s face flushed deeper, her eyes darting to her hand, buried in his underwear, her voice trembling with embarrassment as she replied in a soft, coy whisper. “Kafi, I…I didn’t even realize.” She said, her gaze flicking to his, shimmering with a shy, guilty glint. “When you stood up for me, told Abi to stay quiet, made this just for us…I got so happy, so…overwhelmed.”

“My hand just moved on its own, like it knew what you needed. I didn’t mean to be so bold, I just…I want to take care of you, make you feel good.” She said in a vulnerable manner, driven by the joy of his protectiveness.

Kafka’s smile widened, his hand resting on hers, guiding her grip, his voice dropping to a low, coaxing growl. “That’s what I love about you, Mom, always so eager to please me, to make sure I’m satisfied.”

“You just want to take care of my needs, don’t you? Wanna make sure your son’s cock ain’t throbbing in pain, that I’m feeling good because of you?” He asked, his eyes burning with affection and desire, his tone daring her to embrace her role, to commit to the taboo act she’d begun.

Olivia nodded, her face still flushed, her voice soft but resolute as she leaned closer, her eyes meeting his with a quiet determination.

“Yes, Kafi.” She whispered, her grip tightening slightly, her core throbbing with a guilty sensation. “I want to make you feel good, to ease your pain, to…to satisfy you, no matter what.” Her response was fervent, driven by her love, her need to prove her worth, to outshine Abigaille’s experience with her raw devotion, her hand steady now, a silent promise of her commitment.

Kafka’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning firm, his voice a low, commanding murmur as he leaned back, his hand still guiding hers. “Then say it clear, Mom. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me, to my cock. Don’t hold back, what’s your plan to make your son satisfied, to take care of this throbbing mess you got me in?” His demand was unyielding, his gaze piercing hers, urging her to voice the forbidden, to own the act she’d initiated, the words a spark that ignited her core.

“I…I’ll make you satisfied, Kafi.” She said, her tone fervent, driven by a desperate need to please him, to claim this moment. “I’ll…I’ll stroke you, make sure you’re okay, ease the pain in your…your cock. I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it’s…touching you like this, rubbing you, making you feel good.”

“But isn’t that wrong, Mom? A mother grabbing her son’s cock, stroking it, feeling it throb like this? We’re family, blood and all shouldn’t be this close, should we?”

“…Not with you holding me so tight, pulling me in, your hand wrapped around my dick like it’s yours.” His tone was a dirty jab, his words deliberately poking at the taboo of her actions

Olivia’s eyes flashed, her excitement and embarrassment fueling her response, her voice a hot, passionate whisper as she leaned forward, her grip unyielding, her body pressed against his.

“No, Kafi.” She said firmly, her tone driven by a fierce determination, her love for him overriding her guilt. “It’s not wrong. We’re family, yes, but I’m your mother, here to help you, to ease your pain, to meet your needs. Touching you, caring for you, even…even like this, it’s just love.”

“…There’s nothing wrong with making my son feel good, with giving you what you need.” Her declaration was fervent, her shame buried beneath her passion.

Hearing this, Kafka’s grin widened, his hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer, his voice a low, enticing growl. “Then are ready, then, Mom? Ready to handle my cock, to stroke it, make it feel so fucking good? You sure you can take this on, knowing how bad it’s throbbing, how much it needs your touch?”

Olivia leaned forward, her grip tightening, her voice a firm, passionate whisper, her eyes shimmering with love and resolve.

“I’m ready, Kafi.” She said, her tone unyielding, her body pressed against his, her core pulsing with a taboo thrill. “I’m ready for anything, for whatever you need. I’ll handle it, make you feel good, no matter what since…”

“…since I-I’m your little fox, and I’ll do this for you, only you.”

“Then let’s do this, Mom.” He said, his tone thick with anticipation and with a sudden, bold move, he tugged his boxers lower, the fabric sliding past his hips, his rock-hard cock springing fully free, its massive length bouncing with an obscene weight, towering over the dining table, its girth thicker than the sausage she’d choked on, a pulsing, primal dragon unleashed from his pants, filling the air with its raw, commanding presence…