God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 666: Farewell Kiss

Abigaille's lips brushed the thick outline of his penis, her nose nuzzling the shaft with a submissive reverence that made Olivia's breath catch. Kafka's then hand moved to Abigaille's head, his fingers threading through her hair as he gently pushed her down, forcing her to look up at him.

"Hey, Mom." He said, his voice a soothing rumble, a playful edge cutting through. "I'm starting to get hungry here. Let's wrap this up so we can get to dinner, like Mom said. Food's probably cold by now." His tone was practical, but his eyes glinted with amusement, his grip on her hair firm but affectionate.

Abigaille let out a soft whine, her lips grazing the bulge as she pouted up at him, her eyes sparkling with defiance.

"Oh, Kafi, nooo." She purred, her voice a sultry plea, her cheek sliding along the shaft. "I'm not ready to stop. I wanna rub my face on this gorgeous cock a little more, appreciate every inch of my sweet boy's pride." She pressed her lips harder against the fabric, a slow kiss that left a faint sheen of saliva, her eyes flicking to Olivia as if daring her to react. "You're depriving me of my joy, Kafi. Don't be so mean to your mommy."

Olivia watched, her heart racing, her body caught between anticipation and dread. Abigaille's brazen display was mesmerizing, each movement a provocative dance that stoked the fire in her pussy, despite her desperate wish to look away.

Kafka's chuckle was warm, his hand caressing Abigaille's cheek as he shook his head.

"Can't help it, Mom." He said, his voice gentle but firm. "Mom's gotta be starving after that long drive. We can't keep her waiting." He paused, his smile softening. a glint of indulgence in his eyes. "But don't worry—you can rub your face on my cock later, as much as you want. I promise. For now, though, let's get up and eat."

Olivia exhaled, a shaky sigh of relief escaping her as she thought the ordeal was over, the prospect of dinner a welcome escape from the taboo spiral they'd descended into.

But her relief was short-lived.

Abigaille's face fell, her plump lips forming a pitiful pout, her breasts spilling from her purple bra, her ass straining against her soaked underwear and seeing this Kafka's gaze softened, his hand lingering on her cheek as he took in her dejected expression.

"Aw, Mom." He murmured, his voice a tender caress. "Don't look so sad. You don't have to feel too bad. How about you finish the way you always do? That'll cheer you up, right?"

Abigaille's eyes lit up, a spark of delight flashing across her face as she clapped her hands together, her voice bubbling with excitement.

"Oh, Kafi, yes!" She exclaimed, her tone rich with anticipation. "I love doing that, it's my favorite way to end things."

She then turned her head slightly, her gaze locking onto Olivia's, a tempting almost taunting look in her eyes, as if inviting her to witness what came next, while Olivia's stomach twisted, curiosity and apprehension flooding her as she wondered what Abigaille meant.

"Finish how?" She whispered, her voice barely audible, but neither Kafka nor Abigaille acknowledged her, their focus locked on each other.

And then to her shock, Abigaille's hands moved to the hem of Kafka's boxers, her fingers hooking into the fabric on one side. With a slow motion, she began to roll it up, inch by inch, exposing the thick, meaty tip of his penis, which sprang free from its confinement, resting heavily against his thigh.

The sight was monstrous, the tip alone thicker than Olivia had imagined, its flushed, bulbous head glistening in the dim light, a raw, primal presence that stole her breath.

Olivia's hand flew to her mouth, a muffled gasp escaping as she stared, her eyes wide with awe and disbelief. It was even larger than it had appeared through the boxers, a towering testament to Kafka's virility that sent a shiver of forbidden heat through her.

"Oh my God..." She whispered, her voice trembling, her body frozen as she took in the sight, her mind struggling to process the sheer scale of it.

Abigaille's smile was bright, her fingers brushing the exposed tip, poking it playfully as she let out a soft, appreciative hum.

"This is what I'm talking about, Olivia." She purred, her voice a sultry hymn of adoration. "This monster, this gorgeous, perfect cock. Look at it—so cute like this, all soft and relaxed." She stroked the tip with her fingertip, circling it slowly, her touch reverent. "It's not even hard right now, not at its best, but God, it's still enough for me. So thick, so...powerful." Her eyes flicked to Olivia, daring her to look away.

Olivia's heart pounded, her body trembling as to her disbelief Abigaille took it further, leaning forward to actually press her lips against the tip in a big, juicy kiss, her saliva glistening on the flushed skin as she pulled back with a satisfied hum.

"Kiss!♡~"

The act was so brazen, so unthinkable, that Olivia's mind short-circuited, her breath catching as she watched, unable to process what she'd just witnessed.

A mother kissing her son's cock openly, unashamedly was beyond comprehension, a taboo so profound it left her reeling, her brain struggling to reconcile the sight with reality.

Abigaille then stood after giving her kiss, rolling Kafka's boxers back down with a casual flick, her expression serene, as if she'd done nothing more than hug him.

"There..." She said, her voice light, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "All done...for now."

She then turned to Olivia, waving a hand in front of her face, her tone playful but tinged with concern as she looked quite dazed.

"Olivia? Hello? You in there?"

But Olivia remained frozen, her eyes glassy, her mind locked on the image of Abigaille's lips on Kafka's cock, the wet shine of her kiss, the sheer audacity of it all.

Abigaille sighed, glancing at Kafka with a exasperated smile.

"She's unresponsive, Kafi." She said, her voice tinged with amusement. "Guess we shocked her too much. We'll have to drag her to the table."

She grabbed one of Olivia's hands, her touch warm and firm, while Kafka took the other, his grip gentle but steady.

"Yeah, looks like it." Kafka said, his smile soft but knowing, his eyes flicking to Olivia's dazed face. "Come on, Mom, let's get you to dinner. You need to eat something after all that."

His tone was tender, almost protective, but there was a glint in his eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the game they were playing, one Olivia was only beginning to understand.

Together, they guided Olivia to the dining table, her legs moving mechanically, her mind still reeling from the sight she couldn't unsee.

As they sat her down, her body sinking into his lap, her gaze remained distant, her thoughts consumed by the image of a mother's lips on her son's cock, a forbidden act that both horrified and enthralled her, pulling her deeper into the spiral of desire she could no longer deny...