God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 879

Chapter 879: Give Me A Lot Of Grandchildren
Meanwhile, Kafka on the other hand, who had just successfully impregnated every single women in the room, including his two mothers—was going through whole different set of emotions.

He had always dreamed—secretly, hungrily, sometimes hopelessly of this.

Not just to love and be loved, but to create life with the women he cherished most.

To see little ones with his eyes and theirs, laughter and footsteps echoing in their home.

And now, as he looked down at Abigaille and Olivia, flushed and glowing, filled with his seed and their future children, he felt his eyes sting with tears.

“I…I did it.” He murmured, almost to himself, voice thick and trembling. “I finally did it…I’m going to be a father.”

He was on the verge of crying for joy—actual tears, unstoppable, the kind that would spill down his cheeks without shame, the fulfillment of a dream so old and fierce that now, with their bodies still wrapped around his, it almost hurt.

The idea that soon, in this world, there would be children—his children—running and playing and calling him father…

But just then, suddenly—a sharp, unexpected SNAP echoed through the room, as if the universe itself had snapped it’s fingers.

The sound, sudden and unexpected, instantly brought him out of his emotional daze.

His head jerked up, his brow furrowing with confusion.

‘What the hell was that?’

Then, another, far more surprising thing happened.

He looked around the room, which a moment ago had been littered with the exhausted, broken bodies of his women—and saw movement.

Slowly, almost unnaturally, everyone who had been sleeping, everyone who had been completely exhausted and unconscious moments ago, was stirring, rising.

Lyra, who was curled up like a bruised kitten, pushed herself up onto her elbows, her short hair falling over her shoulder.

Seraphina, who had been sprawled limply on the bed, sat up straight beside her.

Bella, even June—still damp and sticky from his assault—pushed off the pillows, along with Camila and Nina as well.

Every single woman, from the initial conquest to the most recent, was slowly getting up.

They all then turned their faces toward him, and every single pair of eyes held the same thing: a deep, profound, and utterly lustful gaze.

It was the same fiery, primal look, the same boundless, demanding energy that had possessed him earlier.

They looked like predators waking up, their desire now fully activated, their focus locked solely on the still-throbbing source of their desire.

Kafka watched, bewildered, as the entire room of violated, spent bodies suddenly transformed into a chorus of hungry, sexually charged women.

His cock, which had been softening in the wake of his emotional climax, stiffened instantly, thickening and heating as their combined, focused desire washed over him.

He was about to speak, to demand what sorcery this was, when a familiar utterly compelling voice resonated directly in his mind

It was Vanitas.

“Just one round isn’t enough, Kafka. Not nearly enough. What you need to do is fill them up—thoroughly.”

There was a faint chuckle, evil and warm at the same time.

“That’s why I helped you out, my dear son. From here on out, it’s your duty to make sure every last one of them carries your child. So, don’t you dare stop now, Kafka.”

“Make your mother proud…I’m looking forward to you giving me a whole lot of grand-babies I can spoil in the future.”

And with that, the voice faded, leaving Kafka staring in awe at the women now encircling him, each looking ready to pounce.

He realised in that moment that he was no longer the only one overtaken by lust.

Now the tables had turned.

Lyra crawled across the bed toward him, eyes bright, lips already seeking his. Seraphina was next, hands running down his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin.

Bella’s breath was hot in his ear, her lips moving to his jaw. All around him, soft hands reached for him, bodies pressed against his, needy and eager and insatiable.

Kafka blinked, then broke into a teary, amazed, and very nervous laugh, pulling his sweaty hair back as he glanced skyward, as if Vanitas could see his smirk.

“Sure, Mom.” He said, voice both trembling and playful. “I’ll make sure to send a batch of babies right away.”

He barely got the last words out before he was pushed down onto the bed, the weight of them pressing and pinning him, laughter and lust swirling in the air.

He felt soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him this way and that, and suddenly four of them—Nina, Camila, June, and Seraphina—were between his legs, their hair falling in a wild tangle across his thighs.

Each of them fought for space, hungry for his cock, their voices overlapping with heated giggles and competitive banter.

“Move over, I was here first!” Nina grinned, her tongue flicking along his shaft as she claimed the head with a swirling, hungry motion.

“Says the one who always claims the best part.” Camila nudged in from the side, her lips wrapping around the base, voice muffled and teasing. “Let me show you how it’s done, Kafka…”

June squeezed between them, taking him in her mouth, moaning around him, her eyes sparkling up at him.

“Let’s see who can make him moan the loudest…”

Seraphina, not to be outdone, dragged her tongue along his length, licking where the others left off, giggling softly.

“There’s enough of him for all of us, my ladies, but I want to be the one who gets him first…”

Their mouths, lips, and tongues worked together and against each other—some taking turns, some fighting over the same spot. At times two mouths pressed to either side of his cock, sliding up and down, wet and hot, hands caressing and fondling, voices filled with playful, desperate rivalry.

While the others were devouring him below, Bella and Lyra each claimed a hand.

They grabbed hold, exchanging sly glances, then began to lavish attention on his fingers—each sucking one into their mouth, licking and teasing, their tongues swirling as they moaned and writhed, their bodies slick with sweat.

Bella pressed Kafka’s palm to her breast, grinding against him, moaning into his fingers.

“Mmm, use your hands on me, Daddy…I need you…”

Lyra, eyes hooded with need, sucked his index and middle finger deep, then guided his hand down between her legs, spreading herself and pushing his fingers inside her with a needy whimper.

“Touch me, Kafka, fill me…I want to feel you everywhere…Take responsibility for ravaging my pussy even though it was my first time and satisfy me…”

Both women rode his hands, grinding, bucking, their eyes locked on his face, watching for every reaction, desperate for his attention, his touch, his approval.

Above, Olivia had settled in behind Kafka’s head, cradling it on her soft lap. She pulled him back, using her thighs as a cushion, then leaned forward, enveloping his face in the warm, pillowy softness of her massive chest.

She giggled, smothering him, pressing his nose and mouth between her breasts, stroking his hair as she whispered.

“Relax, Kafi…let me take care of you…you deserve it after how hard you worked.”

Her voice was like velvet, her hands gentle, her body soothing even in the heat of the moment.

Meanwhile, Kafka could barely see.

His world a haze of flesh and scent and sound, his vision full of breasts and butts and wild hair, lips everywhere—he could only feel, be devoured, cherished, and consumed.

But he could definitely see one thing.

Abigaille.

She stood over him on the bed, her silhouette framed by the soft golden light, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she gazed down at him, lust and affection warring in her eyes.

She then lifted one leg.

And stepped over him.

His breath caught.

She then crouched slowly, deliciously slow, lowering her plush, swollen pussy toward his face.

Her thighs framed his vision. Her heat radiated down onto his cheeks. Her scent—ripe, sweet, earthy—flooded him like incense.

And when her slick folds finally touched down, he moaned into her, the sound muffled against her cunt.

“Good boy…” She purred.

She then rocked her hips gently, grinding herself on his mouth while Olivia still cradled his face, squeezing her breasts around his ears.

Bella and Lyra bucked on his hands, gasping as his fingers plunged in deeper, curling just right.

Down below, Nina and Camila were still battling for cock supremacy, both of them slurping his shaft while Seraphina had latched fully onto his balls and June was stroking his inner thighs with her tongue.

He was soaked.

He was buried.

He was owned.

And as the moans crescendoed around him, Kafka simply smiled against the flood of Abigaille’s sweetness, vision blurred with Olivia’s breasts and thighs, senses flooded with sex.

All he knew right now in the moment was this was going to be a long night.

A long, steamy, impossible night.

And he couldn’t wait.