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

"Ahem...Leaving the discussion of whether you can strip my clothes whenever you want for another day..." Camila said, without rejecting or accepting what I said, to keep her face.

But in actuality, it looked like she wouldn't mind if I stripped her clothes whenever I wanted to, as long as I complimented the part of her body that I took the clothes off of, showing how needy she was for my attention and approval, which, to be honest, really filled my ego as a man.

"...Why don't you first tell me how you even took off my bra so easily when I myself struggle to take it off everyday."

"I mean, not only did you cleanly take it off in such a brisk manner, You also did it such a way that I didn't even feel my bra being taken off until I felt it sliding off my breasts....Just how did you do that?"

"Or, more importantly, just who taught you how to remove a girl's innerwear so easily, like it's a walk in the park?" She asked with a look of awe and intrigue on her face and looked to be wondering just how many bras I had taken off to allow me to get such mastery over the art of brassiere removal.

This also brought forward the question of which girl I was exactly practicing with, which was a sensitive topic that I was going to use to my advantage, so that I could familiarise my mother with the picture since Camila was going to find out about my true relationship with my mother sooner or later, and it was better to let her slowly adapt to it starting now.

Or else she would find it really bizarre if she found out about my incestuous relationship with my mother all at once.

"Come on now...You better not tell me that you practiced on your own since I know for sure that it's impossible to get so good at removing bras yourself, and need a partner to give you actual 'practical experience'."

Camila said in an experienced manner so that I didn't lie about who my partner was, while acting as if she didn't care about the fact that I used to have a partner in the past and simply wanted to know who that person was, which was quite strange and not the way I was expecting this conversation to go.

"Well, there was someone who taught me the ways of removing bras by making me practice taking off the ones she wore..." I said, which made Camila's eyebrows rise and her lips curl up, like she found it quite amusing that I was talking about another girl in front of her so boldly and looked like she was applauding my bravery for doing so in her head, which was once again weirdly not the reaction I was expecting since I thought for sure that she would be more concerned about this girl I mentioned and not act like I was telling some piece of gossip that she didn't really care much about.

"...But it's not a girl in my class or a girl I knew in the past, like you're thinking of."

"Oh, then just who was that girl?" Camila asked with avid interest, as if she didn't really care that there was another girl in my life before her and simply wanted to know who she was, almost as if she were trying to compete with that girl and prove that she herself was better than her.

This was honestly very strange in my opinion, as normally a person; no matter their age or gender, would normally be a bit sad when they heard that the person they loved; talking about some other person of the opposite sex with whom they were in a relationship in the past, or would at least flinch when they found out they weren't the only person in their partner's life.

But here Camila was without an ounce of sadness or heartbreak, and was actually looking at me with a fire in her eyes, as if she wanted to show me her own worth and put that other girl in the dust behind her.

I mean, it's not like I wanted her to feel bad, but it was just weird to see a woman who was so emotionally vulnerable and sensitive brush off something like this so casually and take it almost as a challenge to be better than my partner in the past.

The only plausible reason I could think of for her strange behaviour that you normally would never see back on Earth, was that it had something to do with this world's culture and heritage, which I wasn't very clear about.

"Come on, Kafka~ Don't be shy and just tell just who that girl is~" Camila nudged me with her ass and urged me to tell me the girl's name with no jealousy and hatred in her voice, while simply having a competitive look in her eyes like she wanted to meet the foe she was fighting with, which was strange no matter how I looked at it.

"You don't have to rush me, since it's someone you already know." I said, ignoring this issue for now so that I can delve deeper into this world's culture later on.

"Someone I know?..." She asked with a perplexed look on her face, as what I said didn't make any sense, since I was new to this town and because of the short time I spent here, I shouldn't know anyone so well that they would be willing to practice taking off their bras with me.

"Just, who is it?" Camila asked in solemn curiosity, not even caring that her nipple was poking out from in between her fingers again, like it was trying to take in a breath of fresh air after being stuffed in their for so long.

"I mean, it's quite obvious, since there's only one person in this town who knows the both of us..." I said as I deeply stared at her nipple, which was such a vibrant pink colour; compared to my mother's sensitivite parts, which were all a dark purple, which were pretty in their own way.

And then I changed my gaze to look at Camila's blue eyes that were waiting for my answer and finished my sentence by saying, "...and that is person's name is Abigaille Vanitas."

"Abigaille Vanitas..." She repeated the name like she was trying to recall where she heard it from.

And when eventually she did, since she had just met her yesterday, her body jolted like it was suddenly electrocuted, and she looked back at me with an absurd look on her face, like she couldn't believe what I said, and asked,

"...W-Wait...Isn't Abigaille your mother?"

"Yes, yes, she is." I said casually, ignoring the baffled expression on her face. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"N-No, the question I asked was who taught you how to remove bras so smoothly..." Camila asked, thinking that I had misheard her question, and tried to correct my mistake. "So, why are you telling me that it's your mother? Are you making some kind of mistake here?"

"No, I'm not making a mistake, and I heard you correctly the first time, because it really was my mother that taught me how to take off a bra, and she was the one that gave me so much practice in the art of bra snatching that I could probably take off any bra off a woman's back even if I was blindfolded." I doubled down on my statement, saying that it was none other than my own mother, which made Camila's face twist in an absurd manner as she didn't know what to think of that.

"I-I see...So it was your mother that taught you..." Camila said out of obligation so that I wouldn't be offended that she was hesitating to accept what I said, while at the same time trying to understand how it all worked out in her head since helping your son practice removing bras wasn't exactly something you would see in a normal household.

But no matter how she racked her brains, she couldn't think of how this peculiar situation came to be and decided to slowly ask me itself for more context about the situation, as even though she was shocked about what she heard and was slightly taken aback, she was also a little curious at the moment and looked like she would only decide what to think of it after hearing my end of the story like a responsible adult.

"So Kafka...Just how did your mother teach you to remove a bra?" Camila asked in a hesitant manner, as this wasn't a topic she would ever think of having with someone, and she was somewhat awkward towards it like anyone would. "Did she just explain to you how to do it by showing you a demonstration in her hand...Or d-did she put it on herself and a-ask you to take it off her?"

Her face flushed by the end of the sentence, as she could never imagine doing something so shameful with her son if she ever had one, since it felt so bizarre and taboo to do so with the little boy you raised your whole life.

"The second option..." I straight-forwardly admitted that my mother gave me some hands-on training, even though none of it was true, and was simply a story I built so that I could familiarise my mother with Camila as one of my women.

"My mother would first remove her bra and give it to me so that I could put it back on her by myself, since she also wanted me to learn how to help a girl put on her bra as well as remove one, so that I appeared more thoughtful and helpful while helping the women I would meet in the future put their clothes on..."

Camila nodded her head with a bright red blush on her face and a little sweat dripping down her back, as imagining the scene of a mother sitting down on her bed with her breasts out and asking her son to cup her chest into her bra and fasten the strap, worked her up a little too much because of the taboo nature behind it.

And even though she was supposed to be somewhat repulsed by such incestous activities, she was actually a bit excited after hearing about such deviant things between a mother and a son, which made her wonder if she was right in the head or if she was an actual pervert who got off to such immoral scenarios.

She didn't know which one of the options was better, as both of them were equally horrible, and she didn't know what to do with herself other than to continue to listen to what my mother had taught me and the methods she used to do so, which all seemed so lewd in her head no matter how normal and innocent I made it seem when I explained it to her.