God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 630: Closer Then Family

"It was weird at first, no question. The idea of being that open—emotionally, physically with Mom? It felt wrong, unnatural. But over time, it just...became normal."

"Talking about our feelings, sharing secrets, even seeing each other naked at the hot spring—it stopped feeling strange. It made us closer, Mom. Way closer than we ever were before."

Olivia's eyes widened, her shock mingling with a dawning awe as she took in his words.

"Closer?" She asked, her voice soft, almost hopeful.

Kafka nodded, his smile warm. "Yeah. And you know why the reason we're so tight now, compared to how distant we used to be?...It's because of this town, these traditions."

"Being forced to open up, to talk about stuff we'd never share, to be vulnerable with each other—it made us understand each other...Mom knows me better than anyone, and I get her, too. It's been a blessing in disguise, honestly. It's why our family's so strong now."

Abigaille's heart clenched, guilt and relief washing over her. Kafka's lie was a masterstroke, weaving their real closeness into a fictional cultural narrative that Olivia, with her guilt and trust in her son, swallowed whole.

Olivia's expression shifted, her repulsion toward the taboo customs warring with a growing gratitude.

She'd always known Kafka as gloomy, closed-off, a boy who kept his feelings locked away.

But now, seeing him so open, so connected to Abigaille, she couldn't help but feel thankful, even if the means—hot springs, nakedness, extreme intimacy, made her stomach twist.

"That's...incredible, I guess." Olivia said, her voice trembling with awe. "I never thought...I mean, you were always so distant, Kafi. I worried we'd never be close. But now, because of this...strange place, you're like this? So open, so...warm?"

Her eyes shimmered with relief and lingering unease.

"I'm still not sure how I feel about...all of it. The nakedness, the closeness—it's a lot. But if it's made you and Abi this close, I...I'm grateful."

Abigaille forced another smile, her heart still racing as she nodded. "It's been...an adjustment, Liv. But it's brought us together. You'll see, once you settle in, it's not as weird as it sounds."

Abigaille's forced smile trembled at the edges, her heart still hammering from Kafka's audacious fabrication about the village's customs. Her quick glance at him—a silent, desperate plea to rein it in had done little to curb his boldness, but she clung to the relief that their taboo relationship remained hidden, veiled in the elaborate lie he'd spun.

Olivia, however, wasn't ready to let the matter rest. Her brow furrowed, her earlier awe giving way to a lingering unease as she shifted on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Kafi..." She said hesitantly, her voice soft but edged with doubt. "This...This still feels wrong. I mean, isn't it considered taboo?"

"...Even if it's just openness, seeing each other naked, being so close—doesn't that cross a line?"

But Kafka's grin was easy, unshaken, his eyes glinting with the confidence of someone who'd anticipated the question.

"Not at all, Mom." He said started soothing her nerves down. "It'd only be taboo if the mother or son had feelings for each other—feelings that went beyond what a mother and son should have...That's the line, the real breaking point that'd turn it into something else, something...not familial."

"But here? In this village? Nobody crosses that line. Not the locals, not me. We see our mothers as mothers, nothing more. It's just an open-minded way of living, a closeness that's natural here." He turned to Abigaille, his smile teasing but pointed. "Isn't that right, Mom?"

Abigaille's heart lurched, her cheeks flushing as she caught the subtle challenge in his gaze. She knew the truth—her feelings for Kafka had long since crossed that forbidden line, her body and heart irrevocably entwined with his in ways that shattered every taboo.

But she couldn't let Olivia see that, so swallowing hard, she forced a nod, her voice a touch too high as she played along.

"Of course, Kafi." She said, her fluster barely masked. "There's no way I'd ever have those kinds of feelings for my son. Never, no matter what."

The lie burned in her throat, her mind flashing to the memory of his cock between her breasts, his cum painting her face, but she held Olivia's gaze, praying her partner wouldn't see through the facade.

Kafka nodded, his expression satisfied as he turned back to Olivia, who looked like her mind was caught in a whirlwind of confusion and cautious relief.

"See, Mom? That's why I said it didn't bother me, seeing Mom, touching you like that earlier. After living here, getting used to the village's ways, it's just...normal. Natural even. I don't bat an eye at stuff like that anymore, and you shouldn't either."

His grin widened, a hint of mischief creeping in.

"Give it some time, and you'll be one of us, too. You'll get used to the closeness, the openness. It'll feel right right at home."

Olivia's eyes widened, her breath catching as his words sank in. "One of...us?" She repeated, her voice trembling with intrigue and apprehension.

Her mind raced, conjuring images of what 'closeness' with her son might mean, what boundaries they might push, what lines might blur over time.

The idea of their relationship shifting, becoming something unfamiliar, sent a shiver through her—not entirely of fear, but of a strange, unsettling curiosity.

"What...What exactly do you mean, Kafi? How close are we going to get?"

Kafka's chuckle was light, but his eyes held a knowing glint, as if he could see the gears turning in her head.

"Just close, Mom. Like family, but...deeper. You'll talk to me about stuff you'd never share with anyone else. You'll feel comfortable around me, no walls, no secrets. That's all it is."

His tone was reassuring, but the ambiguity lingered, leaving Olivia to grapple with the implications.

Abigaille, sensing the conversation teetering on the edge of dangerous territory, stepped forward, her smile strained but determined to shift the mood.

"Okay, that's enough village history for one day." She said, her voice bright but firm. "Liv, you're still processesing all this, and Kafi, you're gonna give her a heart attack with all this talk."

She clapped her hands, her eyes flicking between them.

"So, we're going to have dinner instead. We're sitting down, catching up like a normal family, no more wild stories about naked hot springs or...whatever else."

"...For now I'll be in the kitchen finishing up dinner and in the mean time, you two can catch up with some...light-hearted topics."

She shot Kafka a sharp look, her warning clear—stop pushing but her relief was tangible. They'd dodged getting exposed again, though the lie was growing more precarious with every word.

Olivia nodded slowly, her mind still spinning, her gaze darting between Kafka and Abigaille as she tried to reconcile the shocking customs with the family she thought she knew.

"Right...Dinner." She murmured, her voice distant. "But...Kafi, you're sure it's just....openness? Nothing...more?"

Kafka's smile was warm, disarming, as he leaned forward, his voice gentle.

"Just openness, Mom. Nothing to worry about. You'll see, once you settle in, it's not as weird as it sounds. It's just...family, done the village way."

His words were carefully chosen, soothing her doubts while leaving just enough ambiguity to keep her intrigued, her curiosity a hook he could tug later.

Abigaille then moved to the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she started finishing up dinner as quickly as possible, her mind racing with the weight of Kafka's deception.

His lie had worked—Olivia's trust in her son, amplified by her guilt, had blinded her to the truth, but it was a dangerous game. Every word brought them closer to exposure, and Abigaille knew they couldn't keep spinning tales forever.

She glanced back at the living room, where Olivia was now asking Kafka about his life in the village, her tone slow but eager, and Kafka answered with his usual charm, keeping the conversation light.

The living room hummed with a fragile warmth, Olivia's confusion tempered by her desire to reconnect, to be part of this strangely close family.

The balance was delicate, a house of cards built on deception, and Kafka knew one wrong move could bring it crashing down.

Ding~

[Request Completed: You have earned the God of Destiny Uriel's appreciation and satisfaction]

[The God of Health Fiona wants to know what your mother ate when she was younger to have such large and firm breasts]

[The God of Darkness Sephora finds it hilarious the way you were sent flying]

[The God of Storms Synthia finds you extremely untrustworthy because of how good you are at weaving stories]