God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: A Little Accident…
But that is simply a guess of mine, so I don’t really need to think about it too much in case I was simply thinking about it in the wrong direction and my actual objective is something different.

What I should be wondering about is: why is it that my self in this world is sleeping till it’s 8 PM every day and always needs his mom to wake him up?

I can understand why he might be sleeping, as he might be tired from school or he may be in some physically intensive club that drains his energy. But why does he have his mother wake him all the time, like it’s a routine?

Shouldn’t he be the one to do that himself since he’s grown up now? Or is it that high schoolers still need their mothers to give them wake-up calls even in the evening?

I’ve never been to high school myself, and I’ve never had a mother figure in my life, so I don’t really know. But all I do know is that my past self in this world doesn’t have the same personality as me and only possesses my looks, as I wouldn’t need my mom to act as an alarm even when I was a teenager since I had a sense of order and responsibility from a very young age.

And the clothes I saw in the cabinet, the posters on the wall, the colour scheme of the room, and the way the room smelled weren’t according to my taste and looked like they were set up by someone else even though they had the same face as me.

So, even though I don’t know who the person is in my place in this world or how he normally behaves, I at least know he isn’t me. That also means my personality will appear very different to the people who already know me, so I should accommodate for that change.

I thought the Gods would give me their first task or mission the moment I came to this world, but it doesn’t seem like anything like that is going to happen anytime soon, so I should probably go down for dinner before my mom calls me again.

My mom… Even just thinking about calling that woman my mom is weird in my head. But I have to get used to it since she’s my actual mother in this world, and I can’t call her first name like I want to.

I quickly washed my face and changed my clothes to my liking, as the previous clothes I was wearing were too baggy for me. I had to search for any decent clothes in the wardrobe, as most of them were dark, thick, and baggy, as if the person who bought all this wanted to be as conspicuous as possible at all times and didn’t have a great sense of fashion.

After some digging, I found some black track pants and a white t-shirt that I put on and started walking down the stairs towards the kitchen, where I could hear the sounds of stirring being made.

The house I was in was rather big and looked quite modern, with a simple but elegant design and decorations all around it. It had one floor and looked to be a western-style house that had an adult touch to it. Although I wouldn’t say that it looked like a mansion, it was still a house that looked like it could only be bought by people in the upper middle class.

While I was walking down the stairs, I saw some family pictures hanging on the side. On the multiple pictures that were framed, there were always two women and one boy.

The boy in the pictures looked to be me when I was younger; one of the women in the picture was my mom, whom I saw just earlier; and there was also another woman who I had never seen before who was just as gorgeous as my mom with her short black hair and grey eyes.

Their framed pictures looked like your average family photos, where they or ‘we’ were doing a bunch of family activities like sledding, apple picking, playing on the beach, going to an amusement park, etc. The pictures looked to have been taken over the years, so I could see younger versions of myself in each different picture.

And it was quite strange to see pictures of myself when I have no memory of that incident in the picture ever happening, as if I were suffering from amnesia and was looking at my family pictures to remember the past.

But there were some peculiar things about these pictures.

The first being that I always looked so gloomy and sad in these pictures. It’s not like I was scared and looked like I was getting abused, but I simply looked bored and looked glum in the photos as if I didn’t want to be there, while my mom and the other lady held me with smiling faces.

I just looked so dark and moody in each picture, no matter what age I was, and was honestly ruining all of them with my grouchy faces, as if I were portraying that I’d rather stay back home than spend time with my family.

To sum it up, I looked like a rebellious son who didn’t want to spend time with his family and looked like someone who would never appreciate anything in his life and would forever be a buzzkill who no one really liked. Or, more to say, the original version of me in this world was.

I thought of adopting some of my twin’s traits into my personality so that I could adapt to this world better, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that since I don’t want to add any gloomy characteristics of his life to mine. I’d rather appear much more happy and approachable than act like a depressed loner like him, since I see no positives in acting like my past self.

The next thing I noticed is that I don’t see a single man in these pictures who could be my father in this world, and there was only another lady in these pictures who was probably my aunt or my mother’s close friend, judging by how close my mother and that lady were in each picture. As for my father, I guess he simply doesn’t exist in this setting of mine and is probably dead or divorced from my mother.

I’d also like to keep it that way, as dealing with a mother figure was already too much for me to handle. And adding in a man who I had to call father was simply revolting considering that I was an adult myself, even though I’m in the body of my teenage self.

After getting a good look at the pictures, I went down to the ground floor and entered the kitchen, where I could smell a delicious smell wafting out and see my mom standing near the stove and stirring something.

I didn’t get to look at it properly last time since it was quite dark in my room and my mom was facing me, but now that she’s showing her back towards me while she was cooking, I confirmed the fact that she had fat ass.

I thought her chest was already impressive enough, but her butt didn’t lose out in any way, as it looked like two oversized buns were stuffed into her pants.

I could almost hear the fabric of the pants tearing from how tight they were fitted on her butt. It almost made me want to take off her pants for her safety so that her butt can breathe again after how tight and congested they looked under there.

And just how does she have a waist that slender when she’s carrying weights both at the bottom and top? I mean, it looked like she still had some meat on her abdomen and didn’t look like the fit and slender waist a young girl would have, but it was still thin enough to show off the curves of her butt and thighs perfectly.

With a figure like that, there’s no way in hell I’m ever going to actually consider her as my mother. Hell, I’d probably even fight my dad in this world to make her mine.

I mean, all it would take is a little ‘accident’ for my father to pass on, and I would be right by my mother’s side to comfort and take care of her after his passing. That would give me more than enough opportunities to make my mother forget about my father and for me to slip into the picture.