God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 672

Chapter 672: I Love Sausages

Olivia’s smile faltered, her instincts screaming that his agreement was a prelude to a new game. But efore she could dwell on it, Kafka’s voice turned playful, his tone deceptively innocent as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear.

“Hey, Mom.” He said, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “What’s your favorite food? Like, the one thing you love eating most in the world, your ultimate comfort food. What gets you all excited?”

Olivia hesitated, her brow furrowing as she sensed a trap, the question too simple, too normal in the ‘eventful’ atmosphere.

“Why…why do you wanna know?” She asked, her voice tinged with suspicion, her eyes searching his for a hint of his intentions.

But his gaze was open, his smile encouraging, and the warmth of his thigh beneath her, the memory of his care with the feast, softened her defenses.

“Well…I guess it’s sausages.” She admitted, her voice shy but honest, a flush creeping up her cheeks. “That’s what I love most.”

Kafka’s grin widened, his eyes sparking with interest as he leaned closer, his hand squeezing her hip. “Sausages, huh?” He said, his voice a low, teasing purr. “Why sausages, Mom? What’s so special about them? Tell me everything, why do they get you all hot and bothered?” His tone was playful, but there was a dirty edge to it, a subtle spark that made her pulse quicken.

Olivia’s cheeks burned, her embarrassment flaring at the suggestive undertone, but she pushed through, her voice trembling as she elaborated.

“It’s…it’s the texture, the taste.” She said, her eyes flicking to the table, avoiding his gaze. “They’re hard on the outside, with this…particular snap when you bite in.”

“But then, inside, they’re so juicy, so soft, and when you sink your teeth in, all that flavor just…explodes in your mouth. The meaty taste, the way it spreads, fills every corner, it’s incredible.”

“…Especially spicy ones, well-seasoned, with all those bold flavors. I love biting into a sausage, feeling it burst, letting it take over my tongue.”

Her words spilled out, vivid and passionate, and she felt a spark of pride, thinking she was finally sharing something personal with her son, connecting over her tastes, his attentive gaze a reward in itself.

Kafka’s eyes darkened, a slow, wide smile curling his lips as he nodded, his voice a sultry murmur.

“Damn, Mom, you make that sound so delicious.” He said, his tone dripping with innuendo, his hand sliding up her back, sending shivers through her. “I love how you describe that, biting in, all that juice, filling your mouth like that…Bet you savor every inch, don’t you?”

His words were a tease, turning her innocent confession into something dirty, and Olivia’s blush deepened, her heart pounding as she realized the game was shifting again.

“Why’d you ask, Kafi?” She said, her voice hesitant, her eyes searching his, a flicker of hope that this was just a son’s curiosity. “What’s this about?”

He chuckled, his hand resting on her thigh, his touch warm and possessive.

“I just wanted to make sure I got it right…” He said, his voice a low growl. “…before I show you this.”

With a flourish, he reached for a covered dish on the table, lifting the lid to reveal a steaming, fragrant sausages, thick and glistening, speared on a fork.

It was massive, far larger than any sausage she’d ever seen, its surface taut and golden, spiced with flecks of chili and herbs, its girth so daunting it seemed impossible to bite.

Olivia gasped, her eyes widening in awe, her voice a breathless whisper. “Kafi…you made this? For me?”

“Of course.” He said, his grin triumphant, his eyes locked on hers. “No way I’d leave out your favorite, Mom. And check this, I didn’t cut it up or mash it like some folks do.”

“Mom told me you like it whole, like a carrot, biting it off yourself, savoring every chomp. Said you love the feel of it in your mouth, right?” His voice was smooth, but the suggestive edge was unmistakable, his words painting a vivid, naughty picture that made Olivia’s cheeks burn.

Abigaille nodded, her smile twisted as she leaned closer, her breast brushing against Kafka’s arm.

“Oh, she loves it like that, Kafi.” She purred, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Can’t get enough of a big, thick sausage, biting it raw, letting all that juice drip. Look at her, she’s practically drooling already.”

Her laughter was a sultry chime, and Olivia’s embarrassment surged, her happiness at Kafka’s thoughtfulness tempered by a growing unease at the sausage’s size.

“It’s…it’s huge.” She said, her voice hesitant, her eyes fixed on the sausage, its girth nearly as wide as her wrist, a challenge she wasn’t sure she could meet. “Why’s it so thick, Kafi? Is that…normal? I mean, sausages aren’t usually this big.” Her question was cautious, her doubt flickering as she glanced at him, hoping for a simple explanation.

Kafka’s smile was easy, but his eyes gleamed with something darker, his voice a low, confident drawl.

“That’s just how they make ’em here, Mom.” He said, holding the sausage aloft, its weight making the fork dip slightly. “Town specialty—big, thick, stuffed full of flavor. It’s even got cheese and spices packed inside, so when you bite in, it’s all juicy, bursting in your mouth, just like you love.”

“…Trust me, it’s gonna be the best sausage you’ve ever had.” His words were a promise, which made her excited at the thought of a cheese-stuffed sausage warring with a creeping dread.

Before she could respond, Kafka’s smile turned cruel, as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a husky, commanding whisper.

“I know how much you love sausages, Mom…” He said, his tone dripping with intent. “…so I’m gonna make this special. I’m not just serving it—I’m feeding you, sliding this thick, juicy sausage right into that pretty mouth of yours.” He held the sausage closer, its meaty scent filling her senses. “Gonna make you savor every inch, taste every drop. You want that, don’t you?”

Olivia’s heart lurched, alarm flashing through her as she shook her head, her voice trembling with protest.

“No, Kafi, I…I can do it myself.” She said, her hands fluttering nervously, her cheeks flaming. “Biting into a sausage, it’s easier if I hold it. I don’t need you to…feed me like that.” Her words were a desperate bid for control, her instinct telling her this was another trap, a step deeper into the taboo game he was playing.

“Not a chance, Mom.” He said, his hand gripping her thigh, his touch possessive. “It’s my job to take care of you tonight, and that means I’m feeding you this sausage, nice and slow, making sure you enjoy every bit.”

“…No arguing—just do what I say, and I’ll show you how good it can be.”

His tone was unyielding, his gaze boring into her, and Olivia swallowed hard, her annoyance flaring at his control, but the weight of his authority, the heat of his touch, left her with no choice but to comply.

Abigaille watched, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, her voice a sultry murmur.

“Go on, Liv” She urged, her breast pressing against Kafka’s arm, her smile wicked. “Let Kafi feed you that big, thick sausage. Bet you’re dying to wrap your lips around it, feel it slide in. Don’t be shy—show him how much you love it.” Her words were a taunt, amplifying the dirty undercurrent, and Olivia’s embarrassment surged, her body trembling with dread and shameful arousal.

Kafka’s grin was dark, his voice a velvet command as he held the sausage above her, its glistening tip inches from her lips.

“First, you gotta see it, Mom.” He said. “Know its shape, feel how well-defined it is, so stick out your tongue, nice and wet, and lick the tip of this sausage. Lick it like you mean it, like you’re starving for it.” His eyes burned with dominance, his hand resting on her neck, a subtle pressure that urged her forward.

Olivia’s heart pounded, her cheeks burning as she hesitated, the command so brazen, so humiliating, that she wanted to refuse. But Kafka’s gaze was unrelenting, his tone overbearing, and Abigaille’s watchful eyes added to the pressure.

With a shaky breath, she extended her tongue, wet and trembling, and brushed it against the sausage’s tip, the salty, spiced flavor bursting on her taste buds.

“Lick!♡~”

The act was degrading, but the taste, the texture, sent a shiver through her, her body responding despite her shame.

“Not enough.” Kafka growled, his hand tightening on her neck, pulling her closer, his voice a low, dirty command. “Push that tongue out more, Mom. Lick it properly, like it’s the most delicious piece of meat you’ll ever taste, something you only get once in a lifetime.”

“…Show me you want it, make love to that sausage with your tongue.”

His words were filthy, turning the act into something obscene, and Olivia’s embarrassment surged, but the dominant pull of his hand, the intensity of his gaze, left her no choice.

“Lick!♡~ Mmph!♡~ Ahh!♡~ Suck!♡~”

She stuck her tongue out further, her eyes flicking up to the sausage, and licked more fervently, her tongue swirling around the tip, tracing its contours, tasting the salt, the spice, the faint creaminess of the cheese within.

“Mmm!♡~ Ahhh!♡~ Slurp!♡~ Nnn!♡~”

The flavor was intoxicating, her arousal flaring despite her humiliation, her body leaning into the act as she obeyed. Abigaille’s soft moan of approval, her eyes half-lidded with excitement, only deepened Olivia’s shame, her friend’s enjoyment a mirror to her own forbidden pleasure.

“Good girl.” Kafka murmured, his voice a dirty purr, his hand stroking her neck as he tilted the sausage, showing its thick, glistening sides. “Now the sides, Mom. Lick ’em all over, taste every inch. Don’t leave a spot untouched, every part’s got its own flavor, and I want you to savor it all.” His command was relentless, his eyes burning with satisfaction as he watched her submit.

“Ahh!♡~ Suck!♡~ Mmph!♡~ Lick!♡~”

Olivia’s breath hastened, her body trembling as she moved her tongue along the sausage’s sides, licking slowly, her lips brushing the surface as she tasted the smoky, spiced exterior.

The act was obscene, her tongue gliding over the meat, coating it with her saliva, her arousal spiking with every stroke.

“Just like that.” Kafka growled, his voice thick with approval, his hand pushing her closer, the sausage filling her vision. “Take it all in, every fucking taste. Now use your lips, Mom—kiss it, suck it, get that flavor deep. Show me how much you love this sausage.”

Her heart raced, her embarrassment warring with a shameful thrill as she pressed her lips to the sausage, kissing it softly, then harder, her mouth enveloping the side, sucking gently to draw out the taste.

“Mmph!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Slurp!♡~ Ahhh!♡~”

The flavor was overwhelming, rich and meaty, and her body responded, her thighs pressing together as she obeyed, her submission a fire she couldn’t quench.

“Good job, Mom.” Kafka said, his voice a dirty caress, his hand stroking her hair. “You’re doing so fucking good, tasting that sausage like a pro. Keep going, make it yours.”

Olivia’s mind spun, her body alight with a pleasure she couldn’t deny, the act of licking and kissing the sausage a perverse ritual that bound her to Kafka’s will.

Abigaille’s soft gasps, her eyes locked on the scene, only deepened the erotic charge, and as Olivia surrendered to the taste, the dominance, she felt herself slipping deeper into the taboo dance, each lick pulling her closer to a line she feared she’d never uncross…