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

Seeing the way Kafka's gaze was locked on her with such insistence, Olivia felt her entire body stiffen. His eyes didn't waver for even a second, and she realized with a sinking feeling that there really was no way out of this.

'He's not going to let this go...'

"Fine." She muttered finally, her voice quiet but tinged with frustration. "I'll...I'll do it."

A faint smirk played on his lips at her reluctant agreement, but she ignored it, glancing down awkwardly before looking back up at him.

"But...there's a problem." She said hesitantly. "With one hand holding onto you, I can't exactly unstrap my bra from behind." Her cheeks flushed red as she bit her lip, trying not to imagine how ridiculous she sounded. "So...I don't know what to do."

To her surprise, Kafka didn't look concerned in the slightest. Instead, his smirk deepened. "That's not a problem at all."

Before she could even process his words, she felt his hand slide behind her back.

"Wait, Kafi—" She began in a flustered panic, but she never got to finish her sentence.

With one swift motion, she felt his fingers press against the clasp of her bra, and in an instant, almost like magic, it came undone. The strap loosened completely against her back.

Her jaw dropped as she felt her bra loosen around her chest. "W-What the—?!"

He gave her an innocent look, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed him. "All done."

"You..." She started, her voice shaking as a wave of embarrassment and frustration washed over her. "You really are too good at this."

Kafka chuckled softly, clearly enjoying her reaction. "What can I say? After taking off your bra so many times, I've gotten pretty skilled at it. I could probably do it in my sleep at this point."

That remark hit Olivia like a punch to the chest. A flash of heat ran through her, not just from embarrassment, but from a faint, unbidden pang of jealousy that curled in her stomach.

'So he's done this so many times...with Abi.'

She quickly shook the thought out of her head.

'Now's not the time to think about that!'

Taking in a deep breath and ignoring the smug look on his face, Olivia slowly slid one hand under her dress. Her fingers brushed over the loosened straps before finding the cups of her bra.

Gritting her teeth in silent frustration, she tugged it free, feeling the garment slide over her skin and then out from under her dress.

The moment her bra came off, she felt it, her breasts, which were already heavy and full, now pressing freely against Kafka's chest without any restraint. Her already massive mounds seemed even softer, even warmer, now that there was nothing holding them back.

And Kafka noticed instantly.

"Oh wow..." He murmured with a low laugh, his voice tinged with amusement and something deeper. "It's like...a dam just broke."

Olivia's face turned crimson as he continued, his words pouring out shamelessly.

"Before, I could only feel patches of softness here and there." He said, his hands tightening slightly on her back. "But now...now it feels like my entire chest is covered in this heat and softness. It's like being wrapped in a hot water blanket, Mom. Except softer. Way softer."

"You don't need to describe it in such detail, Kafi..." Olivia muttered, her voice weak and shaky as she held the bra awkwardly in her free hand.

But Kafka wasn't finished. His eyes gleamed mischievously as they flicked down to the bra she held.

"Oh yeah, this is Mom's bra, huh?" He said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "I knew it was big...but to think yours is even bigger? That's insane. I don't even know if they make bras your size in this small little town. Maybe we have to make a custom one."

Olivia's fingers tightened around the bra as she shot him a sharp glare. "It's not like that!" She snapped, though her voice lacked conviction. "I'm sure there are other women like me...even in this town."

But even as she said it, a small doubt tugged at her heart.

'Even back in the city, it was hard to find bras that fit properly.'

Her blush deepened further when Kafka's gaze dropped again, his brows furrowing slightly in curiosity.

"You know..." He said, a strange note of thoughtfulness in his tone. "I thought once you took your bra off, I'd feel...well, two points poking into me." His lips curled into a small smirk as he pressed his chest lightly into hers. "But no matter how close I get, I don't feel them at all. It's like they're hidden away or something."

Olivia's heart skipped a beat. Her face went red in an instant as her breath caught in her throat.

"D-Don't say stuff like that, Kafi!" She cried, shoving her bra up against his face in a desperate attempt to shut him up. "Here! I've taken it off, okay? Now tell me why you even wanted it in the first place!"

But as Kafka felt the soft fabric pressed against his face, he couldn't help but pause for a moment.

There was something about her reaction, how flustered she was, how she snapped at him so quickly, that made him suspicious.

'It's almost like she's trying to hide something.' He thought, his eyes flicking down ever so slightly before he pushed that idea aside for now.

Instead, he let out a small chuckle and looked her straight in the eyes. "Fine, I'll tell you why."

Olivia blinked in surprise at his sudden seriousness.

"The reason I asked you to take your bra off..." He began smoothly. "...is because I need it to help us find the perfect fruit."

"...What?" Olivia asked flatly, staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

"I'm serious." He said with an almost boyish grin, leaning in slightly. "When I was working here on the farm earlier, the lady who owns this place told me something about these trees."

"She said the secret to finding the sweetest fruit isn't just about the color or how ripe it looks on the outside. It's also about the size."

"There's this...perfect size, you know? When the fruit hits it, the water and flesh inside are at their absolute best."

Olivia raised a brow, still looking skeptical. "Alright...and?"

"She even gave me examples of what sizes to look for." Kafka continued, clearly trying not to laugh at her confused expression. "And while she was explaining, I didn't think too much of it. But then...earlier this morning..."

Olivia narrowed her eyes slightly. "Earlier this morning?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "When I...saw you standing around in your underwear, don't get mad, Mom, it hit me. Your breasts...they're exactly the same size she was talking about. I mean, perfectly matched. It's like nature made you the model for the perfect fruit."

"Wha—?!" Olivia's face twisted as her mouth fell open.

"So when I remembered that." Kafka went on, his tone uncharacteristically earnest. "I figured...why not use your bra? It perfectly cups those breasts, so it's the perfect tool. Instead of trying to estimate the size with my eyes, I can just slip the bra over the fruit."

"...If it fits snugly, we know it's the perfect size, and we'll get the sweetest, most delicious one there is."

Olivia froze, gripping the bra tightly in her hand as her head spun.

"You're telling me..." She said slowly, her voice trembling somewhere between frustration and disbelief. "...that you made me take off my bra...just so you could use it to measure some Veluna palms?"

"Yes..." Kafka replied without missing a beat.

She stared at him for a long moment, her lips twitching as though she couldn't decide whether to scream, laugh, or throw the bra at his face again.

"...Are you kidding me right now?"

He smiled sheepishly and averted his gaze. The original source is M|V|L5EMPYR.

"...Maybe I could have roughly estimated the size with my eyes, yeah. But..."

"But?" She asked sharply.

Kafka looked back at her, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief and guilt.

"But I wanted to make sure it was perfect. I mean...I'm doing all of this to make sure you get to taste the sweetest fruit, Mom. Don't you want it to be just right?"

Olivia let out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging. She knew she should be scolding him, should be angry or embarrassed, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Seeing the faint flush on his face and how he kept glancing away like a guilty child, she realized...this was his way of trying to please her, in his own ridiculous, roundabout way.

Finally, she let out a small, reluctant smile, shaking her head.

"You really are so childish sometimes, Kafi...Fine. If this is what it takes to make you happy, I'll let it slide this time. But..." She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "You'd better pick the sweetest fruit on this tree, or I swear, I'll make you regret making me do something so embarrassing."

"Deal..."

Kafka grinned and gently plucked the bra from her hands, while Olivia watched him with an exasperated expression, she thought to herself, 'Honestly...what in the world am I going to do with this boy?'

As they sat nestled high in the tree, Olivia looked at the cluster of large fruits hanging above them, round, brown, and smooth like coconuts. Her eyes darted from one to another before she glanced at him, clutching her bra in both hands.

"So...should I be the one taking them down?" She asked nervously. "Or do you want to do it yourself?"

To her surprise, Kafka shook his head with a soft smile.

"No. This is your experience entirely." He said, his tone gentle but firm. "I want you to do this. You should get to feel what it's like. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it yourself."

That sparked a little thrill inside her chest. Olivia wasn't sure why, but she felt oddly excited at the thought.

"Alright then." She said, smiling shyly. "I'll do it."

Just as he'd told her, she took the bra in her hand, letting out a quiet breath as she reached out with one hand and cupped it over one of the coconuts. It was embarrassing, ridiculous even, but she forced herself to press the bra over the fruit.

"H-How's this?" She asked awkwardly.

But Kafka smirked and shook his head.

"Don't ask me. You're the one cupping the fruit, right? You're the one who should know your own breast size better than anyone else. You're the one who has to decide."

Her cheeks turned warm at his teasing words, but she nodded determinedly. "R-Right..." She murmured.

She felt around carefully, running her fingers over the curve of the fruit while pressing the bra against it. After a moment, she shook her head. "No...not this one."

Shifting to another fruit, she repeated the process. Again, she frowned and muttered. "Too big..."

And then another. "No, too small..."

One by one, she checked each fruit, whispering to herself with each attempt. "Not this one...not this one either..." Her voice took on an almost childish determination as she kept going, and Kafka couldn't help but chuckle softly at how serious she looked.

Finally, she stopped at one particular fruit, pressing the bra snugly against it. Her blush deepened as she slowly nodded. "This one...this one fits perfectly."

"It does?" Kafka asked, leaning in curiously.

"Yes..." Olivia said shyly. "I-It's not an exact fit...it's slightly larger. But..." She trailed off, glancing down bashfully. "...that's the same with my bra too...It's slightly smaller than my actual size, so I think this is the one we should pick."

Kafka's grin widened as he reached over to pat her head. "Good job. I knew you could do it, Mom."

That praise made her puff her chest out proudly. "See? I told you I could do it." She said with a little giggle. "Should I get another one for you too?"

"Yes, please." Kafka replied smoothly.

Just like before, Olivia eagerly pressed her bra against several fruits, whispering to herself as she assessed each one. Finally, she looked back at him, her eyes sparkling. "This one! This one's perfect too!"

But as she reached out to twist the fruit off after already twisting hers off, Kafka suddenly caught her wrist gently.

"What? What is it?" She asked, surprised. "Do you want to twist it off yourself?"

He shook his head with an amused smile. "No. I want to check in my own way if this is the right one."

Before she could ask what he meant, Kafka placed his large hand over the fruit she'd chosen and began running his fingers along its smooth surface. He squeezed it gently, feeling for firmness, and Olivia tilted her head, wondering what he was doing.

But then, before she had time to process, Kafka suddenly reached out with his other hand and cupped one of her breasts.

"H-Hey! What are you doing?!" Olivia shrieked, her face exploding into a deep scarlet as she squirmed in his arms.

"I'm checking." Kafka said smoothly, his voice low and unhurried as his fingers began to trace over her breast with deliberate slowness, like he was handling something delicate and priceless. "You don't need to act so surprised...this is the most direct way to compare, isn't it? Why bother with the bra when I can feel the real thing?"

His palm pressed firmly against her softness, fingers curving slightly as if to memorize every contour. The heat of his hand seemed to seep through her skin, making her shiver despite herself...