God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 652: I’m Yours And Yours Alone

The air in the room thickened, heavy with the scent of arousal and the electric hum of unspoken desires.

Abigaille's succubus nature which came out when she was turned on the most surged to the forefront, her eyes glinting with a devilish hunger that outstripped even Camilla's wildest moments.

Her skin seemed to shimmer, a faint, otherworldly glow radiating from her as she rose slowly from Kafka's face, her hips swaying with provocative grace.

Her ass, plump and glistening with the faintest sheen of sweat, jiggled slightly as she shifted, drawing Olivia's wide-eyed stare and Kafka's unabashed admiration.

Abigaille then turned, her gaze locking onto Kafka with a look that was both tender and wickedly naughty, her lips curling into a smile that promised untold pleasures.

She reached down, her fingers threading gently through his hair, stroking his scalp with a motherly affection that contrasted sharply with the raw, sexual energy pulsing through her.

"Well, Kafi..." She purred, her voice a sultry caress, dripping with warmth and mischief. "Did you enjoy your little massage? Did you like having your mother's ass right there, pressed against your face, giving you all that softness?"

Her eyes sparkled with love, but the way her hips tilted, the way her curves seemed to beckon, spoke of a deeper, more primal intent.

Kafka's hands found her hips, his fingers sinking into the plush flesh of her ass as he looked up at her, his grin wide and unapologetic.

"Oh, Mom." He said, his voice thick with adoration and a hint of playful reverence. "Your ass was...unreal. Nothing in the world could ever compare to this kind of softness."

"...It's like a damn cloud, the best ass in the whole universe."

His hand slid down delivering a firm, playful slap to her cheek, making it ripple deliciously. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and enticing, and Abigaille let out a low, throaty chuckle, her body trembling with delight.

"Oh, Kafi." She teased, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm glad I hold such a prestigious title."

"Knowing I can satisfy my sweet boy's desires with this body of mine?...That's all a mother could ever want."

Her eyes flicked to Olivia briefly, a knowing glint in them, before returning to Kafka, her smile widening as she savored the moment.

But Kafka wasn't done.

His hand lingered on her ass, kneading it slowly, before drifting upward, his fingers brushing the curve of her waist and then boldly cupping one of her full, heavy breasts.

The sudden shift made Abigaille's breath hitch, her nipple hardening beneath his palm as he squeezed gently, his eyes locked on hers.

"You know..." He said, his voice low and teasing. "It's not just your ass that's got me hooked. These breasts of yours? They're so fat, so perfect, I could just bury my face in them for days and never get enough. You're like....a goddess, Mom, giving me everything I could ever want."

Olivia, perched nearby, felt her throat tighten, her pulse hammering as she watched the scene unfold. Her cheeks burned, her body betraying her with a rush of heat between her thighs, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Kafka's boldness, Abigaille's unapologetic sensuality it was overwhelming, intoxicating, and she felt herself being pulled deeper into the strange, taboo web of the moment.

Kafka's smirk grew as he gave Abigaille's breast a playful pat, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"But you know what, Mom? I'm not quite satisfied with just your ass. After seeing these beautiful breasts, I want them on me, too. Just like Mom is doing now"

He glanced at Olivia, his gaze lingering on her flushed face before returning to Abigaille.

"Scoot over, Mom. Sit right next to Mom, lie on top of me, and press those gorgeous breasts against me. I want to feel them, feel you, just like I felt Mom on top of me."

"...I never got the chance to feel you both together before, and I'm not missing out now."

Abigaille's laugh was rich and unrestrained, her devilish nature fully unleashed as she moved without hesitation, her body fluid and eager.

"Anything for my baby boy..."

She murmured, her voice a velvet promise as he slid onto the sofa, her movements graceful yet sensual, nudging Olivia aside with a playful bump of her hip.

Olivia gasped, her body jolting at the contact, but she didn't resist, her eyes wide as Abigaille positioned herself next to her, straddling Kafka's legs and with a slow, tantalizing motion, Abigaille lowered herself, her body pressing against Kafka's chest, her breasts squishing against his right side, their warmth and weight drawing a satisfied groan from him.

Olivia, still reeling, found herself pressed against Kafka's left side, her own pale breasts squished against him, the contrast of her skin against Abigaille's rich, bronzed curves creating a visual that made Kafka's eyes darken with pleasure.

He lay there, a king in his own right, flanked by the two women he called his mothers, their bodies enveloping him in a cocoon of softness and heat.

"God..." He breathed, his voice thick with awe. "This is...incredible. I'm truly am the luckiest man alive."

"Two beautiful, plump mothers, right here, covering me in their warmth...No one else could ever have this, could ever feel what I'm feeling right now."

His hands slid down, one resting on Olivia's waist, the other on Abigaille's, pulling them closer in a possessive grasp. The room seemed to pulse with their shared energy, the boundaries of love and desire blurring into something raw and undeniable.

Kafka's eyes then flicked upward, catching the sight of their cleavages pressed against his chest, the curves of their breasts creating a tantalizing valley that made his breath catch.

"This view..." He said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "...is something else. Your cleavages squished up like that? It's a damn work of art."

But then his gaze shifted, his head tilting slightly as he looked past their faces, his lips curling into a wicked grin.

"But you know what really gets me?...Your asses, that's what. From here, even with your heads in the way, I can see them—both of them, so fat and delicious, like mountains rising up behind you. I can't take my eyes off them."

His hands moved, sliding down to cup their asses, one on Olivia's soft, pale cheeks, the other on Abigaille's firm, brown curves.

"Hmm!♡~"

"Ahnn!♡~"

The sudden contact made both women whimper, their bodies trembling as his fingers dug in, kneading their flesh with a tender rhythm.

"So plump..." He murmured, his voice dark and dirty. "...so juicy. Every son should take a moment to grope his mother's ass like this, to really appreciate her body, to give her all the love she deserves."

His fingers slipped between Abigaille's cheeks, teasing the sensitive skin, while his other hand squeezed Olivia's ass harder, making her gasp and squirm against him.

Abigaille's eyes fluttered, reveling in the sensation, her body growing wetter with every touch.

"Oh, sweetie..." She purred, her voice a sultry moan. "You're too good to me...Keep touching me like that, love. Show your mother how much you appreciate her."

Her hips rocked slightly, pressing her breasts harder against his chest, her ass jiggling under his hand.

Olivia, caught in the mess of sensations, felt her own arousal spiking, her thighs wet with need as Kafka's fingers played with her ass.

"Kafi..." Olivia whispered, her voice trembling with a desperate edge. "You...You really love us, don't you? Love us as your mother's."

Her words were a plea, a need for reassurance amidst the overwhelming desire consuming her.

Kafka's grin softened, though the hunger in his eyes remained.

"Love you? No, Mom, you're my world...Both of you, giving me this, letting me feel you like this? I've never felt more loved, more wanted."

His hands tightened on their asses, pulling them closer.

"And I'm never letting go...You're all mine."

He said, his tone resonant with certainty, his eyes flicking between them, drinking in their flushed faces, their trembling bodies.

"Both of you. Every part of you belongs to me. These fatty asses I'm groping..." His hands slid down, squeezing their cheeks with a possessive force, making both women gasp, their hips twitching under his touch.

"...These soft, spudgy waists I love to hold..."

His fingers tightened on their curves, tracing the plush contours with a reverence that bordered on worship.

"...And these beautiful, heavy breasts..."

His hands glided upward, cupping their breasts, thumbs brushing over their hardened nipples, drawing soft whimpers from their lips.

"...Every inch of you is mine. Your minds, your bodies, your souls—there's not a single part of you that doesn't belong to me...."

"...You're my mothers, and I own your entire existence."

The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute, and Olivia felt her heart lurch, a thrilling chill coursing through her at the raw intensity of his claim.

His gaze was a physical weight, pinning her in place, and she couldn't look away, couldn't escape the magnetic pull of his dominance.

Abigaille, her succubus aura pulsing with a dark, sensual energy, seemed to revel in it, her body arching slightly under his touch, her eyes half-lidded with devotion.

Kafka's attention then shifted to Abigaille, his hand leaving her breast to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her flushed skin. His voice softened, but the possessiveness remained, a velvet glove over an iron fist.

"Isn't that right, Mom? You belong to me, don't you?"

"Every part of you—your heart, your body, your everything is mine, isn't it?"

Abigaille's response was immediate, her voice a sultry hymn of surrender, her eyes locked on his with a love so fierce it seemed to consume her.

"Oh, Kafi..." She murmured, leaning into his touch, her lips parting as she spoke. "Of course, my love. Everything I am belongs to you. My body, my heart, my soul—every single piece of me is yours, and yours alone."

"It's my duty as your mother to dedicate myself to you, to give you everything you desire and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, nothing I wouldn't give."

Her voice dropped lower, laced with a submissive thrill.

"Know that while I'm your mother, I'm also your slave, Kafi...I'll do whatever you say, whenever you say it, because pleasing you is my purpose, my joy."

Her eyes shimmered with adoration, her body trembling slightly as she pressed herself closer, her breasts squishing against his chest, her ass jiggling faintly under his lingering hand.

Olivia watched, her breath shallow, her mind reeling at the depth of Abigaille's surrender.

The woman she'd known—cheerful, kind, unassuming had transformed into this vixen, this creature of raw devotion and sensuality, willingly chaining herself to Kafka's will.

The sight sent a tremor through Olivia, a pang of awe and yearning twisting in her chest.

How had they reached this point?

What alchemy of love and desire had forged such a bond, where Abigaille could declare herself a slave to her son with such fervent joy?

Olivia's thoughts spun, her body aching with a feeling she couldn't name, her eyes darting between Abigaille's blissful expression and Kafka's commanding presence.

Then Kafka's gaze turned to her, and Olivia's throat went dry, her pulse hammering as his dark eyes bored into hers.

The possessiveness in his stare was overwhelming, a predator's focus that locked her in place, her body tingling with a strange, exhilarating fear.

It was as if he saw through her, past her defenses, to the secret desires she'd buried deep.

"And you, Mom..." He said, his voice a low, dangerous purr that made her heart race. "What about you? Do you belong to me, too? Are you mine, just like Mom here is?"

The question hung between them, heavy with expectation, and Olivia felt her world tilt.

His gaze was a cage, inescapable, and yet...she didn't want to escape.

Every instinct screamed that this was wrong, that a mother should hold the reins, should be the one in control, the one guiding her son.

But in that moment, under the weight of his stare, she felt small, vulnerable, and strangely...safe.

The idea of submitting to him, of surrendering her autonomy to his will, sent a rush of warmth through her, a reassurance that he would protect her, claim her, keep her by his side.

He wasn't the frail son she'd nursed through sickness at that moment; he was a man, the man of the family, his strength and dominance wrapping around her like a shield.

Her thoughts chumed, a mess of shame and desire. She shouldn't want this shouldn't crave the feeling of his hands on her, shouldn't yearn to be owned, to be his In every way.

But the more she fought it, the stronger the pull became, her body humming with a need to feel his touch, to know she was under his rule.

His gaze made her feel seen, desired, cherished in a way she'd never known, and the thought of resisting it, of stepping back into the role of the dominant mother—felt like a betrayal of the fire igniting within her.

Her lips parted, her voice trembling as she met his eyes, her expression soft and limpid, a shy vulnerability she couldn't hide.

"Kafi..." She whispered, her voice barely audible, laced with a coy surrender that made her cheeks burn. "Y-You're right. I...I'm yours....Yours alone."

She swallowed, her heart pounding as she forced the words out, each one a step deeper into the unknown.

"Just like Abi said, before I'm a woman, I'm your mother, and as your mother, I'd give anything for you."

"My life, my soul, my body—whatever you want, it's yours."

"You're the most important thing in my world, my entire world, and if you want me to be completely yours, then...I am."

Her voice wavered, the weight of her admission settling over her, but the truth of it felt liberating, a release of the burdens she'd carried alone.

"I don't even know what it means, not fully, but if that's what you want, then I'm yours...Completely."