God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 631: Making Amends For The Past

Olivia nodded, her blush deepening as she glanced at him, her eyes filled with guilt and uncertainty.

"Yes." She admitted softly. "You...You always hated it when I got too close. You'd push me away, tell me not to invade your space, so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable again."

Kafka rubbed his temples, a headache playing across his face as he shook his head.

"Man, that old Kafi was a real piece of work." He muttered, his tone laced with self-deprecation. "Left a hell of a mess for me to clean up, didn't he?"

He then looked at her, his smile returning, warm and reassuring.

"Listen, Mom, I told you forget that version of me. This town, these weird customs? They changed me. Opened me up, made me...honest about what I want...Back then, I was just too shy, too awkward to handle you getting close. It wasn't about you—it was me, not ready for that kind of connection."

"...But now? I'm different. I want you to sit close. I want us to be close."

Olivia's eyes lifted, a hopeful spark igniting as his words sank in. The doubts and fears swirling in her mind—the strange customs, the unsettling openness faded, replaced by the warmth of his invitation.

"Really?" She asked, her voice trembling with cautious excitement. "You...You really want me to sit next to you? You're not just...forcing yourself to make me feel better?"

Kafka chuckled, patting the cushion right beside him.

"Forcing myself? Nah, Mom, this is me wanting you here. As a matter of fact, while you were gone, Mom and I got so close we'd do more than just sit together. When we watched movies, we'd cuddle up, practically glued to each other, one of us holding the other tight. Felt...right, you know?"

Olivia's jaw dropped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Cuddle?" She repeated, unable to believe what he just said. "You...you and Abi cuddled? You, who used to hate me even sitting near you?"

Kafka nodded, his grin widening. "Yup. And get this it wasn't even her idea. Usually, I was the one pulling her close, not the other way around."

Olivia's confusion deepened, her head tilting as she tried to reconcile the distant, prickly boy she'd known with the open, affectionate man before her.

"But...why?" She asked, her voice soft but insistent. "Why are you so different now? Why do you want to be so close when you used to push us away?"

Kafka's expression softened, his voice taking on a rare, earnest tone.

"Because I'm a changed man, Mom. I messed up back then, big time. I pushed you both away, kept you at arm's length, acted like I didn't need you."

"But I was wrong. I see that now, and I'm trying to make up for it. I want to be the best son I can be, to treat you and Mom like you deserve. I've been doing that with her while you were gone—making her happy, being there for her, giving her the son she always should've had."

"...And now that you're back, it's your turn. I want you to feel what it's like to have a son who cares, who loves you, who's not afraid to show it. I owe you that, after all my mistakes."

Olivia's eyes widened, her breath catching as his words hit home. The effort he was putting in, the sincerity in his voice, shattered her lingering doubts. She'd feared he was forcing himself, placating her out of guilt, but the way he spoke, the warmth in his eyes, told her he meant every word.

Her heart swelled, a mix of pride and gratitude washing over her as she realized how much he'd grown, how much he wanted to rebuild their bond.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a gentle, almost playful tone.

"So, what do you say, Mom? Wanna cuddle up like I do with Mom? Feel what it's like to be close, really close, like we should've been all along? Or you good staying way over there?"

His tone turned slightly pitiful, his eyes softening with a hint of vulnerability.

"I get it if you wanna keep your distance, after how I treated you before. Totally understandable."

Olivia's heart clenched, the sight of her son's earnest plea melting her reservations. She'd come back from the city for exactly this—to feel his love, to give hers in return, to mend the fractured bond she'd feared was lost forever.

The idea of cuddling, of experiencing the closeness Abigaille had described, was too tempting to resist. "

Not at all!" She blurted, her voice quick and determined. "I...I want that, Kafi, I want to feel close to you, too."

With a burst of courage, she scooted across the couch, closing the distance until she was right beside him. Her body hovered just inches from his, her hesitation flaring as memories of the old Kafka—his scowls, his rejections, flashed through her mind.

But then she looked at him, really looked, and saw the new Kafka, his warm smile, his open posture, his eyes inviting her in.

This wasn't the boy who'd pushed her away.

So, bracing herself, she slid closer, her body pressing against his, her soft, plump form molding to his side as she felt the warmth and strength of his frame.

A silent gasp escaped her as their bodies touched, her eyes widening at the sensation. She'd always pictured Kafka as frail, a scrawny boy lost in his gloom, but the man beside her was solid, his muscles firm under his shirt, his presence radiating a quiet strength that made her feel...safe.

Her heart swelled with pride, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she realized how much her son had grown, not just in openness but in sheer physicality.

Kafka, meanwhile, was having very different thoughts.

The moment Olivia pressed against him, her soft, cloud-like body enveloped his side, her massive breasts pushing against his arm with a firmness that was both plush and unyielding. The sensation was heavenly, a stark contrast to the elastic force that had sent him flying earlier.

He'd noted then how her breasts defied gravity, standing high and firm despite their size, a rare combination that made them feel like a paradox—soft yet powerful, yielding yet unmovable.

Now, pressed against him, they were a distraction he hadn't anticipated, their warmth seeping through his shirt, stirring a heat in his core that he fought to suppress.

He wasn't complaining—feeling his mother this close, her body a perfect blend of softness and strength, was a sensation he'd savor, even if it tested his resolve to keep things tame.

He then glanced down at her, his smile warm but laced with a subtle challenge. "So, Mom, how's it feel? Being this close to me? You doing okay?"

Olivia fiddled with her fingers, her nails tapping nervously against each other as she looked up at him, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"I...I'm a little nervous." She admitted, her voice soft and hesitant. "I've never been this close to you before, Kafi. Not like this. It's...new, and it's making my heart race a bit."

She paused, then offered a small, shy smile, her eyes shimmering with sincerity.

"But I'm really happy, too. So happy. This is exactly why I came back from the city—to be close to you, to have moments like this. I thought it'd take months to get anywhere near your heart, that I'd have to work so hard to earn this."

"...But here we are, on the very first day, and I'm already here, with you. It's more than I could've hoped for."

Kafka's smile widened, her words warming something deep in his chest, even as his mind churned with less innocent thoughts.

"Glad to hear it, Mom." He said, his voice gentle. "Told you, I'm a changed man. I want this as much as you do."

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She nodded, nestling closer, her cheek brushing his shoulder as she let out a soft sigh.

"Cuddling like this...it's nice." She murmured. "I feel...safe. Back in the city, I had this huge flat, top-notch security, cameras everywhere. But no matter how safe it was supposed to be, I always felt anxious, like I didn't belong. Never really felt at home."

"...But now, just sitting here with you, like you said, cuddling...I feel safer than I ever did. Like nothing could hurt me, as long as I'm here with you."

She turned her head, expecting a response, her shy confession laid bare, but was startled to find Kafka staring at her with a confused, almost amused expression, his lips twitching as if holding back a laugh.

Panic flared in her chest, her blush deepening as she wondered if she'd misstepped. "Did...did I say something wrong?" She asked, her voice trembling as she shifted slightly, ready to pull away. "Am I too close? I can move—"

But before she could retreat, Kafka's arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her back against him with a gentle but firm grip that underscored his strength. She froze, her breath catching as she realized how powerful he was—his grasp unyielding, a stark reminder that he wasn't the frail boy she'd once known.

"Whoa, hold up." He said, his voice warm but tinged with amusement. "It's not like that at all. I'm not mad or anything. I was just...surprised, is all since you know...you think this is cuddling?"

Olivia blinked, her confusion mirroring his as she tilted her head, her innocence almost comical.

"Isn't it?" She asked, her voice soft and earnest. "We're so close, our bodies touching...that's cuddling, right?"

Kafka laughed, a rich, hearty sound that filled the room, making Olivia's cheeks burn even brighter.

She felt a blend of joy at his laughter—so rare from the gloomy boy she'd known and frustration at being the source of his amusement.

"What's so funny?" She demanded, her voice a blend of curiosity and mild indignation. "What's wrong with what I said?"

Kafka shook his head, his grin wide as he looked down at her. "You're too cute, Mom, thinking this is cuddling. Don't get me wrong, sitting close like this is nice, but it's...nothing special. Just us hanging out, bodies touching a bit."

"...Cuddling, though? That's way more intimate."