God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 548

“K-Kafka…!” Camila called out in surprise, her voice catching as his mouth latched onto one of her breasts.

“Ooh!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Smack!♡~”

A gasp rippled through her the moment she felt the heat of his lips, followed by a jolt of pleasure as he drew her sensitive nipple into his mouth. The suddenness of it all left her lightheaded, but she quickly adapted, letting her hands slide up to cradle the back of his head.

“Nnn!♡~ Lick!♡~ Suck!♡~ Mmph!♡~”

There was a certain kind of fervor in him tonight—an urgency that made him suck and nip at her flesh with near—reverent intensity. He was like a man starved, simultaneously rough and tender as he explored her skin with his mouth.

“Ahh!♡~ Mmmph!♡~ Slurp!♡~”

Each time he switched from one breast to the other, Camila also couldn’t hold back the breathy moans that spilled forth, punctuating the silence with soft, heated exhalations.

“Mmm!♡~ Nnn!♡~ Suck!♡~ Ahh!♡~”

Yet even amidst the pleasure, her sense of humor and warmth remained. Gently ruffling his hair, she tilted her head to look down at him, a small smile curving her lips.

“Goodness.” She teased between ragged breaths. “You really do…look like a baby right now…the way you’re latching on like that.”

Kafka grunted in response, a muffled sound of protest mixed with desire, but he didn’t stop.

“Lick!♡~ Mmph!♡~ Ahh!♡~ Suck!♡~”

His mouth closed around her other nipple, his tongue pressing hungrily against the hardened peak, sucking eagerly as if to stake his claim.

A low growl rumbled in his throat whenever her body quivered beneath him, fueling his determination to continue.

“Mmm!♡~ Ahhh!♡~ Slurp!♡~ Nnn!♡~”

Camila continued to cradle Kafka’s head gently, her fingers laced through his hair, offering soft, affectionate strokes as he lavished attention on her breasts.

“Ahh!♡~ Suck!♡~ Mmph!♡~ Lick!♡~”

Each new flick of his tongue, each gentle—or sometimes not-so-gentle-bite, sent a delicious tremor of heat through her. Yet, amidst those heated sensations, a reflective smile tugged at her lips, and she couldn’t resist speaking the stray thoughts that had surfaced in her mind.

“You know, Kafka.” She began, her voice breathy but warm. “Back when Bella was a baby, I used to hear the other young mothers in my neighborhood talk about how their baby boys were so…enthusiastic when feeding.”

“They’d talk about little ones biting down, or tugging too hard, or even fussing when they didn’t get enough milk quickly.” She paused to catch her breath as Kafka’s mouth grazed a particularly sensitive spot. With a slight shiver, she continued, “Some of them even said it could be really painful when it happened.”

Kafka’s muffled response vibrated against her chest; she could feel rather than hear it, the soft hum of curiosity or acknowledgement.

“Ahh!♡~ Mmmph!♡~ Slurp!♡~”

He didn’t stop sucking at her breast, but rather seemed to slow his pace slightly as if to listen better—though whether that was a conscious choice or a byproduct of her calming touches was hard to say.

Camila let out a fond chuckle, patting his head in a motherly gesture as she continued speaking.

“But Bella…My sweet Bella was such a gentle baby. She never bit me, never fussed like that. She was always so patient and delicate when she fed.” Her eyes grew distant for a moment, reflecting on memories that felt both tender and bittersweet. “I remember being grateful—relieved, really—because I’d heard enough horror stories from my friends.”

Kafka pulled back just a fraction to catch a breath, though he quickly shifted to lavish attention on her other breast.

“Mmm!♡~ Nnn!♡~ Suck!♡~ Ahh!♡~” Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

Even as his mouth latched on again, Camila felt the warmth of his gaze flicking up at her, as if encouraging her to go on.

“But because of what I heard, I used to wonder.” She said, her voice airy as she tried to keep composure under his lips that won’t stop sucking on her perky nipples like her were trying to squeeze out some creamy milk. “I used to wonder whether the difference was because Bella was a girl and the others had boys.”

“…It all sounded like nonsense, of course—babies are babies—but when you’re a new mother, you hear so many theories and old wive tales.”

Her breath stopped when Kafka’s teeth grazed her skin, a reminder of the present moment’s intensity. Despite the pulse of desire in her own veins, she found herself smiling down at him.

“So, yes.” She went on, picking up where she left off. “I wondered a lot about that what they said—whether baby boys were somehow more…assertive.” She paused as his mouth brushed lower along her breast, drawing out a gentle sigh from her throat. “But I guess I never got the chance to find out.” She murmured, her tone adopting a mild note of fond nostalgia. “Bella was my only child. And I love her dearly, of course, but…part of me couldn’t help imagining what might’ve been different if I’d also had a son.”

She drew in a slow breath, as though gathering the scattered fragments of her thoughts, and then let her voice take on a lighter note. “But seeing you, like this, so…determined to have your fill?”

A pink flush rose in her cheeks, contradicting her teasing tone.

“It’s almost proof enough that maybe there was some truth to those stories. Who would’ve guessed that about this?”

At her words, Kafka’s face colored, and he pulled himself a bit more upright.

“H-Hey.” He started, sounding vaguely affronted. “You’re not implying—?”

Camila smothered a laugh behind a half-curled fist.

“I’m just saying.” She replied lightly. “That maybe I’ve gotten a tiny glimpse of what those mothers experienced. Even though I never had a son, tonight I got to see firsthand exactly how…active a boy can be when he sees a woman’s breasts.”

Immediately, Kafka’s eyes darkened, and he sat up even straighter. The playful atmosphere in the room crackled as he shot her a look of mock irritation.

“Camila, you…I hope you’re not treating me like some baby.” He said pointedly, failing to mask the fluster in his voice. “Because I’m definitely not a kid, and I’m sure as hell not your son.” A light huff escaped him. “You do remember I’m old enough to drive right, right?”

Camila flashed him an indulgent grin, well aware she was walking a teasing line. She waved her hand in mock dismissal.

“Oh, hush.” She teased, unable to resist. “If I close my eyes and imagine you at, say…two or three years old, it wouldn’t be so hard to picture. You’d probably have been the cutest little boy—quiet and polite one moment, then full of mischief the next, no doubt.”

Kafka’s mouth fell open in mild exasperation.

“Camila!” He protested, voice cracking slightly with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “You…Are you seriously imagining me as a toddler?”

She gave a languid shrug, her grin widening as she continued.

“Well, why not? Think about it: I’ve always heard that baby boys can be so affectionate, clinging to their mom’s leg, wanting to be cuddled at night. And you have this sweet side, you know?”

“…You can be so gentle and thoughtful—though you hide it behind that sarcasm of yours.”

She spoke in a lilting, playful tone, leaning forward as she ticked her fingers in the air as if listing points.

“You’d be the type to hold my hand all the time…give me big, sloppy baby kisses…fuss when you’re hungry.”

Kafka covered his face with his hand, groaning in disbelief.

“Please stop.” He murmured, shaking his head. “You’re making it so weird.”

But undeterred, Camila carried on, eyes dancing with mischief.

“And I’d get to dress you in adorable little outfits.” She said, punctuating her words with an exaggerated sigh of longing. “We’d go shopping together, pick out bright baby clothes. Maybe a little cap with cat ears on it—”

Her words were cut short as Kafka’s hand abruptly shot up, palm outward.

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, though the corners of his eyes crinkled like he was trying to hold back a smile. “I get it, I get it. Just stop already.”

He took a moment to compose himself before looking up at her with a mischievous smirk.

“I can never be your son, Camila, since I already have two mothers back at home who would devestated to hear that they have more competition.”

“…But if you really want a baby boy so badly, Camila…”

Camila’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in surprise. The sudden shift in his demeanor was electric, and she felt a thrill of anticipation as she waited for him to continue.

“I could…I could just give you one myself.” He said, his voice dropping to a lower octave, thick with innuendo. “If you’re that eager for it.”

The room grew still, the air thick with a tension that was no longer entirely playful. Camila felt a warm flush spread over her body, the heat of his words sinking into her skin.

She would’ve passed off any comment of his as she wasn’t someone who was that easily flustered or embarrassed. But when the topic of babies was brought up which was a weakness to any lady her age, she couldn’t help but get a little worked up and also a bit curious at the mention of it.

“How…How exactly do you propose to do that?…T-That is giving me a baby.” She asked, her voice a breathy whisper.

She couldn’t help the way her eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what he was really saying.

Kafka’s smirk grew more pronounced as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin.

“How?…Why exactly how babies have been made since the beginning of mankind.” He murmured, his hand sliding down from her waist to cup the curve of her ass. “I’d have to fuck you so thoroughly, so completely, until a baby boy pops out of that tight, sweet pussy of yours.”

Her cheeks burned, a heady blend of embarrassment and arousal.

“You…You can’t just say things like that!” She exclaimed, trying to sound scandalized despite the way her body was reacting. But she couldn’t keep the smile off her face, and she knew he knew it.

He chuckled, his hand sliding up to trace the line of her spine, sending a shiver through her.

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” He said, his voice a gentle challenge. “You want it. You want me to take you like that—like you’re my baby-making vessel.”

The directness of his words was almost too much to handle, and she found herself leaning back, trying to put a little space between them. But the heat of his body was intoxicating, and she couldn’t help but crave more.

“K-Kafka.” She stuttered, her mind racing with the vivid image he’d painted. “That’s…That’s not how it works.”

“Oh, I know.” He said, his voice a soft growl. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t pretend.”

Before she could protest further, Kafka’s hand slid between her legs, his fingers brushing over the damp fabric of her panties. He stroked her lightly, the barest touch that sent a bolt of pleasure through her. Camila’s breath hitched, her eyes closing involuntarily.

“Look at you.” He murmured, his voice a dark whisper. “So wet, so eager for it. You want me to make you feel like you’re being bred, don’t you?”

The words were crude, but the way he said them sent a thrill through her, making her pussy clench around nothing. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the whimper that wanted to escape.

“Tell me, Camila.” His voice was low, his eyes intense. “Do you want me to fill you up?”

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze. There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her feel like she could tell him anything. So, she leaned in, her voice barely above a murmur.

“Yes.” She breathed. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like I’m your…your baby-maker.”

The words were out before she could even think to hold them back, and she watched as Kafka’s eyes lit up with desire. He leaned in, capturing her mouth with his in a kiss that was fiery and demanding. His tongue thrust into her mouth, claiming her as his own.

“Peck!♡~ Peck!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Peck!♡~ Taste!♡~”

Their kiss was a clash of passion, lips and tongues battling in a fervor that spoke volumes of their mutual desire. Kafka’s hands roamed over her, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless.

“Mmm!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Smack!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Lick!♡~”

Pulling back slightly from the kiss, his voice was a low, husky command. “Take off your clothes, Camila.” He said, his eyes burning with anticipation. “I want to see you…I want to see all of you without a cloth in sight.”

Her cheeks still flushed with arousal and embarrassment, Camila nodded slowly and got up as her her hands moved to her clothes. She peeled away each layer with a deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving his, feeding off the intensity of his gaze.

Bending forward, she allowed her panties to slip down her thighs, exposing her ass first, the cheeks round and firm, like two perfect moons of milky white against the backdrop of the room.

The action of bending over emphasized the curve of her back, leading the eye down to the sight of her bare skin. As she straightened, the last of her underwear fell away, leaving her in a state of complete nudity.

Her pussy was now fully revealed, the lips plump and inviting, a gentle pink that seemed to blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. The delicate folds were slightly parted, a glistening promise to her arousal, each contour and curve a promise of pleasure.

This was all under the scrutiny of Kafka’s hungry gaze, making her feel both exposed and adored at the moment like she was most coveted woman in the world at the moment…