God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 486

Chapter 486: Three Pencils
[God, Nina. That sight…I can’t stop thinking about how wet and tight you are. I want to be inside you myself, stretching you, filling you completely.]

A wave of happiness and excitement surged through her, her chest tightening with the intensity of it. The praise, the sheer hunger in his words, made her body warm up.

Her pussy clenched harder, the pencils inside her suddenly feeling like nowhere near enough. The thought of Kafka replacing them with his own thick, hot length made her lips part on a shaky moan.

But the discomfort was creeping in at the same time.

The pencils weren’t smooth like his fingers or his cock would be; the rubber tips pressed awkwardly against her sensitive walls. Her slickness helped, but the sensation was becoming too much. She shifted slightly, wondering how to get them out without breaking the spell they were both under.

Before she could decide, her phone buzzed again.

[Don’t take them out, Nina…I want to do it myself.]

Her eyes widened, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. She glanced over at Kafka, still seated by her side, his back facing her, his posture deceptively calm. Her mind whirled.

‘How? He’s not even looking at me.’

But before she could form another thought, he shifted slightly, his arm stretching back toward her, his hand open, fingers slightly curled, palm facing up. The gesture was clear. He was waiting for her to place the pencils in his hand, a silent command delivered with calm certainty.

A shiver ran through her, the weight of her embarrassment battling with the overwhelming need to obey. Her cheeks burnt, but the sense of duty to serve him—to be his, completely—swelled inside her. Her body trembled, but her resolve hardened…She wouldn’t deny him this.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, her legs weak, her movements careful as she stepped closer to him. The pencils shifted inside her, the sensation sending little jolts of pleasure through the inner walls of her fleshy cunt.

She then positioned herself over his waiting hand, her body leaning forward slightly. Her thighs parted, the muscles in her legs trembling as she widened her stance.

She looked down, her cheeks blazing at the sight of her own swollen, glistening folds stretched around the pencils.

Her verdant skin was slick with arousal, the wet sheen catching the soft light. The tips of the pencils gleamed, coated in her fluids, the sight so lewd it made her core throb with a desperate ache.

Her breath quickened as she lowered herself, the pencils pressing deeper for a moment before Kafka’s fingers curled around them.

“Hmmm!♡~ Hnnn!♡~”

His palm was warm, his grip firm but careful, the pencils shifting slightly in his grasp, slick from her arousal. Her body clenched involuntarily around them, and a soft whimper escaped her lips.

He didn’t say a word, his focus entirely on the task at hand. He held her still for a breathless moment, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her folds…The contact was fleeting, but it sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her body shivering.

Then, slowly, he began to pull.

“Ahhh!♡~ Shnnn!♡~”

The pencils slid out gradually, the hard, smooth surfaces dragging along her sensitive walls. The sensation was exquisite—stretching, releasing, the friction teasing her in the most agonising way. Her slickness clung to them, her arousal pooling and dripping down, making the withdrawal even smoother.

“Hmmm!♡~ Hnn!♡~ Ahh!♡~”

Her eyes fluttered shut, a low moan escaping her as each inch of the pencils slid free, leaving her aching and empty. Her walls clenched helplessly, trying to hold on to the sensation, to him, but it was all for naught as all three of the pencils had been pulled out.

Unable to handle the intense stimulation, she forced her eyes open, looking down, her breath caught in her throat.

Kafka’s hand was still beneath her, the three pencils now slick and glistening in his palm, coated with her wetness. Strings of her arousal stretched and broke as he lifted them slightly, the lewdness of it making her stomach flip. The sight was filthy, shameless, and it made her pussy throb with desperate need.

Her legs trembled, barely able to keep her standing. She bit her lip, the taste of her own anticipation sharp on her tongue. He hadn’t even turned to look at her, but his control over her, his power to make her feel this way, was absolute.

Kafka’s fingers then turned slightly, holding the slick pencils up to the light. He tilted his head, examining the way her wetness glistened along the wood, dripping slowly, before he sent another message.

[Well, looks like these can’t be used anymore…You’ve dampened them right to the core.]

Her cheeks flamed, heat rushing up to her pointy ears. The lewdness of his words, the matter-of-fact tone in the text as he declared how soaked the pencils were because of her, made her breasts jiggle all over the place.

Nina then swallowed hard, her breath shaky. The emptiness between her legs throbbed now, the absence of the pencils leaving her hollow and needy. Her walls clenched helplessly, searching for the stretch, the fullness she craved.

But just as she shifted uncomfortably, trying to quell the ache, her phone buzzed. Her eyes darted to the screen, a fresh wave of anticipation pulsing through her veins.

[Pencils are fine and all, but since I have a rather hefty cock, I want to see something just as thick inside of you.]

Her breath stopped, her fingers trembling around her phone. The words seared into her mind, making her body flush with heat.

Thick…The thought of Kafka’s cock—of his girth stretching her walls, filling her completely—made her pussy pulse violently. Her mind swam with images of his hard length, how he’d feel inside her, stretching her to her limit. Her thighs pressed together, desperate for friction, but it wasn’t enough.

Something thick…Her eyes flitted around the counter, scanning for anything that could meet his filthy request. She pushed away a few stray thoughts, dismissing items almost immediately. The handle of a wooden spoon is too thin. A rolled-up towel—too soft….A thermos—too awkwardly shaped…Nothing was right.

Her gaze kept searching, her frustration mounting along with the exhilaration in her body. And then she saw it.

An empty glass bottle of Sasfra Juice stood at the far end of the counter, forgotten and without a drop of liquid.

Nina’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. The bottle was thick and cylindrical, the glass smooth and cool. It was the right shape, the right size…But it was huge.

The mouth of the bottle tapered slightly, but the body of it was wide enough to make her stomach twist with fear and anticipation.

Her fingers curled against the counter. There’s no way. Her mind stopped at the thought.

‘The bottle was too big. There was no way Kafka could be that thick….Right?’

But doubt whispered back to her, mingling with a dangerous thrill.

‘But what if he is?

Her cheeks burnt hotter…The thought of Kafka’s cock being as thick as that bottle made her pulse quicken, the heat between her thighs turning molten. The very idea of taking something that big, stretching herself open just for him, made her walls flutter helplessly.

Her sense of duty crashed over her, fighting with her hesitation.

‘He wants this. He wants to see me stretched wide, taking all of it.’

Her hands shook, but a surge of determination flared in her chest.

‘I’m his…This is for him.’

She let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding. “Okay…I can do this…For him.” She whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.