Kid with fresh trauma, dead parents, and a brain full of horny daydreams gets invited to live with his own fantasy: the hot teacher with the perfect ass who always leans over the desk just a bit too far. On paper it sounds like a pity offer, right? “Stay with my family until things get better.” In reality it’s more like dropping him into a jungle of polite smiles, fake kindness and a milf who knows damn well every boy in class stares at her tits. He hesitates, because her son is that asshole from school who steals lunch money and calls everyone loser. But she looks at him with those soft eyes, that tight blouse, and suddenly sleeping under the same roof as the bully’s mom feels like a sin that’s worth burning for. Of course he says yes. Hormones are stronger than common sense.

The house is not normal. You notice it first in the little things. The way the “big brother” talks on the phone like he’s ordering a beating instead of pizza. The quiet guys in suits who show up, bow, and pretend they’re just business partners. The way the teacher, this kind of warm, patient woman at school, turns cold and sharp in the kitchen when she’s whispering about “problems that must vanish.” It’s a yakuza nest with homework on the table and a mom who cooks curry while wearing a skirt that barely hides her thick hips. While the son acts like he owns the world, the new boy starts sliding under his shadow, sneaking glances at his mom’s curves, her heavy breasts bouncing when she walks from the bathroom in a towel, the outline of her pussy barely covered, like she’s forgotten someone else lives there now. Or maybe she didn’t forget at all. Hard to say.

At school, the drama looks like a stupid romance anime at first. Teasing in the hallway, cheap jokes, girls whispering that the new boy is “so tragic, poor thing” while staring at his crotch when they think he doesn’t notice. There’s this weird humor in how people flirt with him. One classmate acts innocent, then asks very detailed questions about what he thinks of older women, then pretends it was a joke. Another girl “accidentally” falls on his lap in the library and he ends up with her ass pressed on his dick while she giggles, way too happy. But the real mindfuck happens back home, late, when the door is slightly open and the teacher is in her bedroom, touching herself while watching some shitty romance movie on her tablet, her moans soft at first, then deeper, and he just stands there, hard as rock, listening. Later she pretends nothing happened, serving breakfast like normal, but her hand lingers too long when she passes him the jam. One evening she helps him study and somehow her cleavage is almost in his face, her perfume sweet and thick in his lungs, and he finally snaps, kisses her, expecting a slap. Instead she kisses back, slow, hungry, like she’s been waiting, her tongue teasing, her lips wet. Clothes go missing. Her big tits are in his hands, heavy and warm, nipples hard, and he ends up buried inside her on the sofa, her moans low so the rest of the house doesn’t hear, her body pushing back into every deep thrust. She rides him later, straddling him in the dark, whispering “don’t cum yet” then pulling him in deeper until he fills her, creampie after creampie, while she clenches around him like she owns his soul. Around all that, the yakuza tension keeps rising, jealousy grows, and more women start circling him like he’s fresh meat in a bloody family war, but he still keeps sneaking into her room like an addict who only needs one drug: the bully’s mom, spread on her bed, legs open, ready for another round.