God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 658: Mask Of Innocence

Kafka let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted.

"Good." He said, his voice tinged with relief. "For a second, I thought what Mom said was a lie or something. Got me worried." He chuckled, his expression easing into one of pride. "I was confused by how shocked you looked, but I guess you're just surprised I know so much about women's bodies, huh?"

"...I'm not the kid I used to be, Mom. I've grown up, learned a thing or two."

He puffed out his chest slightly, his grin proud and self-assured, oblivious to the deeper currents swirling around him, while Olivia's mind spun, a storm of realization crashing over her.

Despite his bold, lewd actions—groping their asses, commanding their submission, Kafka's understanding of their arousal was cloaked in an innocence that stunned her.

He genuinely believed Abigaille's excuse, saw their dripping wetness as a quirk of biology rather than a sign of desire. And Abigaille, with her knowing smiles and playful deflections, was orchestrating this charade, guiding Kafka's perception to protect their taboo feelings.

Emboldened by the strange blend of relief and intrigue, Olivia stepped closer, her bare thighs brushing together, her exposed cleavage jiggling slightly with the movement, as she has a doubt in her mind that she just had to ask.

"Kafi..." She ventured, her voice soft but probing. "Do you...Do you have a girlfriend? Someone special out there?"

Her eyes searched his, genuinely curious about the life he led beyond their unconventional family dynamic.

Kafka's hand flew to the back of his head, his fingers raking through his hair in a sheepish gesture. A faint flush crept up his neck, and he averted his gaze, his voice dropping to a quiet, almost apologetic murmur.

"Nah." He said, his tone tinged with embarrassment, as if he feared disappointing her. "I don't have a girlfriend, Mom. I know you probably thought I'd have someone by now, but...sadly, I'm still single."

He shrugged, his smile small and self-conscious, a obvious difference to the commanding presence he'd exuded moments before and seeing this Olivia's brows shot up, her lips parting in disbelief.

She took another step forward, her skirt still bunched around her feet, her ass swaying as she moved.

"H-How is that possible?" She asked, her voice rising with genuine astonishment. "Kafi, you're so handsome, so charismatic! Girls should be falling over themselves for you, fighting to get your attention...How can you be single?"

Her hands gestured animatedly, her eyes wide as she tried to reconcile his confession with the confident son who'd been groping and commanding them with such ease.

Kafka chuckled, the sound soft and self-deprecating, his gaze still fixed on the floor.

"Well, the thing is, I might seem open here, with both of you, Mom." He said, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "But outside? With other girls? I'm...kind of a mess."

"I get all tongue-tied and don't know what to say."

"I used to be a loner, you know? Never really talked to anyone, especially not girls, so it's hard for me to open up to strangers." He rubbed his neck, his embarrassment palpable. "I'm just not used to it."

Olivia nodded slowly, a wave of understanding washing over her. The pieces clicked into place his past as a loner explained the hesitance he described, the social awkwardness that contrasted so sharply with his boldness at home.

It made sense, too, that he'd struggle to connect with others when his confidence was reserved for the safety of their family.

The realization softened her, a tender warmth blooming in her chest as she saw him not as the dominant figure he'd become in their presence, but as the shy boy he'd once been.

But her curiosity wasn't sated. She tilted her head, her voice gentle but insistent.

"Okay, I get that, Kafi...You're a bit shy." She said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But how are you so...open with us? I mean, you're so brave, saying things that are...well, pretty embarrassing for your mothers." She flushed, her mind flashing to his hands on her ass, his tone as he'd ordered them to twerk. "How do you do that without hesitating?"

Kafka's chuckle was warm, his eyes finally meeting hers, a spark of affection in his gaze.

"That's because you're my mothers, not random strangers." He said, his voice steady with conviction. "I trust you both with everything I've got. I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or offending you.

"...With you, I can be myself—completely open, no holding back."

"But other girls? I'm always scared I'll mess it up, say something dumb, or make them mad." He shrugged, his smile tuning wistful. "It's because you're family that I can act like this. You're my safe place."

Olivia's eyes widened, a surge of joy flooding her at his words. The idea that his boldness, his openness, was reserved for them alone felt like a precious secret, a bond no one else could claim.

It thrilled her in a way she couldn't quite articulate, her heart swelling with a possessive pride that he shared this side of himself only with her and Abigaille.

But another realization hit her, one that explained his innocence.

Similar to how the revelation that Kafka's innocence about their arousal stemmed from his lack of experience with women. His isolation as a loner meant he'd had little to no interaction with girls, leaving him naive about the nuances of female desire.

The pieces fell into place—his belief that their wetness was 'sweat' wasn't an act but a genuine misunderstanding, born of inexperience.

She muttered under her breath, barely audible.

"That's why he doesn't know...Doesn't know why I'm so wet right now"

The words slipped out, a fleeting thought vocalized in her distraction Kafka's head tilted, his brow furrowing.

"What'd you say?" He asked, his tone curious but not suspicious.

Olivia's heart lurched, her face flushing as she waved her hands frantically.

"Nothing, nothing at all!" She blurted, her voice high-pitched with panic.

The last thing she wanted was for him to probe further, to uncover the truth she and Abigaille were so carefully concealing.

She resolved to keep him in the dark, to preserve his innocence and protect the delicate balance of their relationship...

Kafka's lips then curled into a smirk, his gaze dropping to her drenched panties, the wet fabric clinging to her pussy, outlining every curve with shameless clarity.

Noticing this, Olivia's breath caught, her cheeks burning as he bent down, his face level with her hips, his eyes fixed on the scandalous sight.

"I'm used to seeing Mom all sweaty and wet down there." He said, his voice full of awe and curiosity. "But seeing you like this, Mom, this...this is new."

"You're really sweaty right now. So much I can even see your...vagina underneath." He paused, then added with a playful grin, "Hello there...Seems like you've finally grown tired of hiding and gave decided to show yourself."

Hearing this absurd statement, Olivia's jaw dropped, a mortified squeal escaping her as she clapped her hands over her crotch, her face flaming.

"Kafil" She shouted, her voice trembling with embarrassment. "Why would you say that?"

"...It's not appropriate to talk about your mother's...vagina like that!"

The word felt foreign on her tongue, her stammering only deepening her flustered state.

Kafka scoffed, straightening up with a casual shrug, his expression unbothered.

"What's the big deal?" He said, his tone light, almost dismissive. "It's just a part of your body, same as your face or your lips. In this town, we don't make a fuss about that stuff. It's all normal."

He glanced at Abigaille, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Right, Mom? You and I talk about this kind of thing all the time. Like how your vagina gets hairy sometimes, how fast it grows back after you shave."

Olivia's eyes widened, her head snapping toward Abigaille, a silent question buming in her gaze...Is this true?

Abigaille's cheeks flushed, a crack in her confident facade as she shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware they were treading into dangerous territory.

But she recovered quickly, a shy smile curving her lips as she nodded. "Well...yes." She admitted, her voice soft but steady. "I used to talk about those things with you Olivia, but since you were away, Kafi's the one I share with."

"And it's not a big deal, Olivia. In this town, it's normal to be open about our bodies,..even the private parts." She leaned closer, her tone reassuring. "We've also seen each other naked plenty of times, so talking about this? It's just...natural."

Olivia nodded slowly, her mind reeling as she tried to process this new layer of their dynamic.

The town's norms, so foreign to her, normalized such naughty discussions, blurring lines she'd been taught to guard fiercely.

Part of her wanted to recoil, to cling to her old boundaries, but another part, a growing, rebellious part found the openness strangely liberating, a freedom she'd never known.

Still, the casual mention of Abigaille's body, the image of her and Kafka discussing such intimate details, sent a jolt through her, her body responding with a fresh wave of heat she fought to ignore...