God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 586: Getting Slapped Around
Abigaille then rose to her feet with a soft huff, brushing her hands down her front as if smoothing out invisible wrinkles, her cheeks still tinged with a faint flush from her earlier antics.
She straightened herself up, tossing her hair back with a little shake, and flashed Kafka a warm, motherly smile. "Alright, Kafi." She said, her voice slipping back into that gentle, nurturing tone. "Now that you're all cleaned up—nice and fresh for Mommy, it's time for dinner. Come on, let's get you fed."
She turned slightly, gesturing toward an imaginary dinner table as if it were right there in front of her, her hands painting the scene with animated little flourishes.
"I've made a whole spread for you tonight." She announced proudly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "I know you love every single dish here, so I went all out! There's your favorite roast chicken—golden and crispy, just how you like it, with that garlic butter I spent forever rubbing in. And mashed potatoes—extra creamy, with a little sprinkle of chives because I know you can't resist them."
"...Oh, and a big bowl of that cheesy pasta you always beg for I stirred that sauce for ages to get it just right! I even baked those little dinner rolls you adore, all warm and fluffy. Took me hours, dear, but I wanted it perfect for you—I hope you like it!"
She beamed at him, clasping her hands together as if waiting for his approval, but then her expression shifted—her brows lifting in mild surprise as if he'd spoken up.
"Oh?" She murmured, tilting her head like she was listening intently. "What's that? You're...a bit thirsty? You'd rather have something to drink first instead of dinner?" Her voice softened with understanding, and she nodded quickly, eager to please. "Well, that's no trouble at all! I've got plenty of fresh juices ready for you—apple juice, nice and sweet, just how you like it when you're parched. Or orange juice—I squeezed it myself this morning, all tangy and bright. What do you want, sweetie? Name it, and it's yours!"
But then, all of a sudden, her eyes widened, a sharp, "W-What?!" bursting from her lips as her face ignited into a brilliant, blazing red. She froze, her hands flying to her cheeks as if to cool the sudden heat, her voice trembling with flustered disbelief.
"What is that, Kafi? Y-You don't want any of the juices I made?" She stammered, her gaze darting to Kafka and then away, her heart racing as she forced the words out. "You're saying...You'd rather drink...my breast milk, instead?"
Abigaille's hands flew to her chest, clutching at herself as if to shield her breasts from the very idea, her face a vivid shade of crimson as she shook her head frantically.
"N-No, sweetie, I can't allow that!" She stammered, her voice a flustered squeak as she took a step back, her eyes darting nervously. "A mother should never do something like that with her son—that's too far, way too far!"
"...Drinking my...my breast milk? Straight from me? Oh, goodness, no, that's just not right!"
She then bit her lip, her embarrassment deepening as she glanced at Kafka with a sheepish, almost guilty look. "I-I actually wouldn't even mind if you asked for a kiss or something." She admitted, her voice dropping to a shy murmur. "Even on the lips—that wouldn't be so bad, just a sweet little peck from your Mommy."
"...But this? Wanting to drink my milk right from the source? That's...That's too much, darling. I can't—I just can't!"
Her hands tightened over her chest, but then her expression shifted, her brows lifting as if she'd heard him argue back in her mind. "What's that?" She said, her tone turning defensive as she tilted her head, imagining his retort. "You're saying you've drunk my milk before, so it's no different?"
"...Oh, no, no, no—that was ages ago! You were just a tiny baby in my arms back then, all soft and helpless, suckling because you needed it. It's so different now! Look at you—" Her eyes swept over his body, lingering on his broad shoulders, his chiseled abs, the sheer manliness of him. "You've grown so big since then, turned into this...This handsome man. You're not that little boy anymore—not even close!"
She paused, her gaze softening with admiration for a moment before she caught herself, shaking her head again as her imaginary son pushed back.
"Wait—you're saying it's not different at all?" She gasped, her voice rising with flustered disbelief as she acted out his words. "And...And you're admitting that for a long time you've been wanting to taste my breasts? That you can't keep your eyes off them because they're so big and soft?"
"...T-That you've been staring at them, thinking about them all the time?"
Her hands pressed harder against her naked chest, her blush spreading down her neck as she squirmed under the weight of her own conjured confession, her eyes flickering to his face and then away.
She then swallowed hard, her breath hitching as she continued, her voice trembling with coy embarrassment. "You've...You've wanted to suck on them? To taste my milk, to see how your mother tastes? For a long time? And you can't hold back anymore?"
She let out a soft, nervous laugh, her hands dropping to fidget at her sides as she looked up at him with wide, flustered eyes.
"Oh, sweetie, I—I didn't know you felt that way! I'm so sorry if I...If I tempted you like that. Maybe it's my fault, wearing all these revealing clothes around the house—showing off too much, not thinking about how it might look to you. You're at that age, aren't you? It's only natural for a boy to be curious about a woman's body."
She fanned her face, her voice softening into a shy, almost apologetic murmur.
"But I never expected you'd be interested in mine. Me, your silly old mom!"
She imagined his response again, her eyes widening as she gasped. "What? Of course you would, because I have such a sexy body? Oh, you little tease!"
Her blush flared anew, and she swatted the air playfully as if scolding him, though her coy smile betrayed how flustered—and secretly flattered—she was by the idea.
"Saying things like that to your poor mother—you're too much, you know that? Making me all red and shaky over here!"
She giggled nervously, her hands fluttering as she tried to compose herself, caught in the whirlwind of her own sultry, taboo-tinged roleplay.
Abigaille's flustered giggles then tapered off into a shy silence, her hands twisting nervously as she ducked her head, her cheeks still glowing with heat.
She stood there for a moment, lost in thought, her breath shallow as she wrestled with the idea she'd spun into her erotic skit.
Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze to Kafka, her eyes soft and tender, a flicker of resolve sparking beneath the bashfulness.
"You...You really want to drink my breast milk, huh?" She murmured, her voice trembling with a mix of shyness and curiosity.
Her hands then hesitated before revealing and exposing her full, heavy breasts, lifting them slightly as if offering them up.
She imagined his nod, a silent affirmation, and her lips parted in a soft gasp. "You won't regret this at all? N-Not even a little?" She watched him, picturing him shaking his head, and a nervous smile tugged at her mouth.
"F-Fine..." She whispered, her tone coy and reluctant yet laced with a sultry edge as she gave in. "If you want it so much, I'll have to indulge you, my sweet boy. That's what mothers do, isn't it?"
"...Take care of their son's needs, no matter what—even if it's...a little dirty."
Her voice dropped to a hushed, intimate murmur, her blush deepening as she committed to the fantasy.
Camila and Nina, standing nearby, exchanged glances of absurdity, their excitement visible.
Camila leaned forward, her voice a breathy whisper. "Oh my, here it comes the main event! I can't wait to see how this plays out!"
Nina nodded, her own anticipation bubbling over as she clutched the chair tighter. "She's actually going for it—little miss innocent's about to blow our minds!"
Abigaille, ignoring their commentary, turned and glided over to a nearby sofa, her hips swaying with an unconscious allure as she settled onto the cushions. She then patted her lap gently, as she looked up at Kafka with a shy yet cheeky smile, her eyes glinting like a temptress in disguise.
"Come here, sweetie." She cooed, her voice soft and inviting as she tapped her thigh again. "Lay your head right here—let Mommy help you with what you need." Her tone was a sultry tease, her posture open and enticing, like a succubus luring her prey with a loving guise.
Kafka followed her cue, moving to the sofa and easing himself down beside her, his head resting in her lap.
Above him loomed her two towering breasts, full and round, her nipples perky and impossibly alluring, framed perfectly in the soft light.
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Abigaille looked down at him, her breath catching as a wave of excitement washed over her. "Oh, darling." She murmured, her voice trembling with affection and heat. "You look so adorable like this so cute, so precious. I just want to coddle you forever!"
Her hands reached for his face, fingers tugging playfully at his cheeks as she giggled, but then—overcome with impulse—she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his face, smothering him in their soft, warm weight.
But she quickly froze mid-laugh, her eyes widening in sudden panic as she realized she was practically suffocating him with her milkers.
"Oh—oh no, sorry, sorry, Kafi!" She squeaked, pulling back quickly, her breasts bouncing free as she fanned her face in a fluster. "I didn't mean to do that! They're just...so big, you know? Sometimes I make little accidents like that—I forget how much they get in the way!"
But then she tilted her head, imagining his response, her lips curving into a coy smile. "What's that? You...You didn't mind? You'd prefer if I smothered you with them?" Her voice lilted with playful disbelief, and across the room, Camila let out a sharp. "Oh, really?" Her tone dripping with excitement as Nina echoed. "No way, apparently he's into it!"
Abigaille's eyes sparkled with mischief now, her shyness giving way to a bolder edge. "So, that's what you like, huh?" She purred, leaning down again to slap his face lightly with one breast, the soft flesh jiggling against his cheek. "You naughty boy—liking this so much!"
She giggled, smushing her breasts against his face again, rubbing them over him with slow, deliberate presses.
"How's that, sweetie? You love your Mommy's big breasts all over you, don't you? So dirty, having these wicked little feelings for me wanting me to tease you like this!"
Her voice turned sultry and scolding, a mix of mock reprimand and raw delight as she kept up the playful assault, her breasts bouncing and swaying as she smothered him, caught up in the heat of her own tantalizing roleplay.
Her giggles then turned into a low, sultry hum as she leaned closer, her full, heavy breasts hovering just above Kafka's face, their soft curves casting a shadow over him. Her eyes glinted with a naughty spark, her shyness melting into a seductive confidence as she pressed them down, smushing them against his cheeks with a slow, deliberate grind.
"Oh, you wicked little thing." She purred, her voice dripping with heat as she dragged her breasts across his face, the warm, plush flesh enveloping him. "You love this, don't you? Having your Mommy's big, soft tits all over you—smothering you, teasing you like the dirty boy you are!♡~"
She shifted, slapping one breast lightly against his cheek, the thwack of skin on skin echoing softly as it jiggled back into place.
"Look at you!♡~" She cooed, her tone a mix of mock scolding and raw seduction. "Getting all hot and bothered just from these. You've been dreaming about them, haven't you? My naughty sweetie, staring at my chest every chance you get, imagining how they'd feel pressed up against you like this."
She slapped the other breast across his face, letting it bounce and sway as she smothered him again, her nipples brushing tantalizingly close to his lips.
Her hands then gripped the sides of her breasts, squeezing them together as she rubbed them over him, suffocating him in their pillowy warmth.
"You're such a bad boy, Kafi!♡~" She whispered, her voice husky and thick with desire. "Wanting your mommy to do filthy things like this—burying your face in my tits, letting them take your breath away."
"...Bet you've been thinking about how they'd taste, hmm? How they'd feel bouncing all over you, driving you wild!♡~"
She punctuated her words with another playful slap, her breast smacking his forehead before she dragged it down, smushing it over his nose and mouth, her skin hot and slightly slick against him.
"Oh, you love it when they're heavy like this, don't you?!♡~" She teased, her tone turning downright wicked as she leaned in closer, her breath hitching with her own excitement. "So big and full, just begging to be played with. You've been aching to get lost in them—my dirty little man, craving his Mommy's sexy breasts all to himself!♡~"
She rocked her chest side to side, letting them slap and jiggle against his face in a rhythmic, erotic dance, her nipples grazing his skin with every pass as she suffocated him in their softness.
She let out a throaty laugh, smushing them harder against him, her voice dropping to a sultry growl.
"You're drowning in them now, aren't you? Drowing in Mommy's big fat juicy breasts. Can't get enough of these naughty tits slapping you silly—such a greedy boy, wanting me to keep going, to keep teasing you with every filthy inch of them!♡~"
Her breasts bounced and swayed as she rubbed them over his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, leaving no part of his face untouched by their plush assault.
"Bet you'd let me do this all night—smother you, slap you, make you beg for more with these dirty, delicious things!♡~ My sweet, perverted boy—look what you've turned your mommy into!♡~"