My Busty Mom No Man Wants Seduces Me to Fuck Her Until She’s Pregnant

Chapter 1: The Lonely Neighbor
My name is Shota Takahashi, 20, a sophomore at a Tokyo university, living in an old apartment in the suburbs. Next door lives a single mother, Ayaka Yamamoto, 38, raising her 6-year-old daughter, Ai. Ayaka’s figure is stunning—E-cup breasts straining her clothes, round hips swaying when she walks, long hair cascading, and a face with subtle age lines but mature allure. She often wears low-cut tops or tight skirts, unwittingly flashing deep cleavage or thighs, making me, a hot-blooded student, restless.
Ayaka’s husband died in a car crash five years ago, leaving her to raise Ai alone. Neighbors say she hasn’t dated since, focusing on work and parenting, but I’ve heard her soft sobs at night, hinting at her loneliness. I pitied and was drawn to her, often helping with chores or playing with Ai, earning her grateful smiles and occasional home-cooked meals.
One evening, after fixing her kitchen faucet, Ayaka invited me for dinner. After Ai fell asleep, she opened a bottle of red wine to thank me. Her low-cut dress slipped, baring half her breast, nipple faintly visible. I averted my gaze, but she leaned closer, wine-scented breath warm, whispering, “Shota-kun, do you think I’m… still attractive? A woman no man wants… isn’t that pitiful?” Her eyes held sorrow and seduction, my heart raced, and my cock hardened.
Stammering, I said, “Ayaka-san, you’re beautiful… how could no one want you?” She giggled, inching closer, fingers grazing my thigh, “Really? Then… do you want me?” My mind blanked, desire blazing, but reason made me push her away, fleeing to my apartment. That night, in bed, her breasts and whispers haunted me, my hand jerking until I came.

Chapter 2: The Start of Seduction
From that day, Ayaka grew bold. She flaunted her body deliberately—wearing sheer nightgowns to borrow items, bending to flash her breasts; or drying laundry on her balcony in just lingerie, pretending not to notice my stares. She found excuses to invite me over, like helping Ai with homework or fixing appliances, pressing close, her breasts brushing my arm, saying suggestive things: “Shota-kun, your girlfriend must be so lucky, huh?”
I tried keeping my distance, but her seduction was poison, eroding my resolve. One night, she knocked, saying Ai had a fever and needed me to buy medicine. Returning, Ai was asleep, and Ayaka wore a lace robe, nearly transparent, her massive breasts starkly outlined. She pulled me to sit, offering wine, saying, “Shota-kun, thanks for always helping… I’m so lonely…”
Her hand slid up my thigh, my cock steel-hard. Leaning in, her lips grazed my ear, whispering, “Shota-kun, help big sis… make me feel like a woman again…” I couldn’t hold back, kissing her, hands diving into her robe, kneading her breasts. Her nipples were rock-hard, her moans like an aphrodisiac. I tore off her robe, licked her breasts, sucked her nipples, her screams ringing: “Shota… it feels so good… keep going…”
I pinned her to the couch, yanked off her panties, and licked her pussy, juices flooding. She gripped my head, yelling, “Shota… fuck me… I need your cock…” I dropped my pants, my cock plunging into her tight pussy. Her walls squeezed like they’d milk me dry, her orgasmic screams and squirting juices soaking my abs. I came inside her, a hellish rush of pleasure.

Chapter 3: A Depraved Routine
From that night, our relationship became a taboo frenzy. Ayaka was a ravenous wolf; whenever Ai was out or asleep, she dragged me to her apartment, stripping to fuck. She loved me playing with her breasts, sandwiching my cock between them, licking my tip until I sprayed her face. She taught me positions, fucking in the kitchen, bathroom, floor, balcony—every corner of her home.
Ayaka’s lust was insatiable. She bought sex toys—handcuffs, whips, shock wands, anal plugs—for me to use. One night, she had me tie her to the bed, whipping her breasts, red welts rising as she pissed herself climaxing, screaming, “Shota… I’m your whore… fuck me dead…” I shocked her clit with a wand, her screams and squirts deafening, then fucked her ass, cumming in her rectum.
She began saying crazed things: “Shota, I want your baby… get me pregnant…” I froze, reason screaming it was madness, but her breasts and moans crushed my resistance. I came inside her every time, fantasizing her pregnant, desire like an addiction I couldn’t quit.
But guilt gnawed deeper. I knew Ayaka’s loneliness drove her fall, and I, a mere student, used her body to sate myself. Nightmares of Ai crying or Ayaka’s despairing pregnant form haunted me. I knew this taboo game had to end.

Chapter 4: Seeds of Pure Love
Ayaka’s madness scared me but revealed her fragility. She didn’t just crave sex—she yearned for love, a family. When Ai was hospitalized with a fever, Ayaka wept like a child outside the ward. I hugged her, saying, “Ayaka-san, I’m here. You’re not alone.” Her tears soaked my shirt, her voice breaking: “Shota… am I dirty… unlovable?”
I realized my feelings weren’t just lust but love—a desire to protect her. I vowed not to just fuck her but to give her true warmth. We began acting like a normal couple—I joined her grocery shopping, helped Ai with crafts, watched movies together. Ayaka’s smiles grew, her eyes shifting from lust to purity.
Her desire remained strong, but our sex softened. She stopped demanding extreme play, preferring my gentle kisses on her breasts, slow thrusts. One night, in my arms, she asked, “Shota, if I got pregnant, would you hate me?” I kissed her forehead, “Ayaka-san, if that’s our choice, I’ll take responsibility.”

Chapter 5: The Truth of Pregnancy
Weeks later, Ayaka told me she was pregnant. The two lines on the test stunned me, my mind blank. She cried, “Shota, I want this baby… I want a family…” I was torn between fear and duty. At 20, a student, how could I raise a child? But her tears made me resolve not to run.
I took on extra coding jobs, saving for the baby. Ayaka changed, quitting wine, wearing loose clothes, her breasts still alluring but her aura motherly. Our sex grew cautious, my hands gentle on her breasts, thrusts careful not to harm the baby. She moaned, “Shota… I love you… thank you…”
But societal pressure loomed. Neighbors gossiped about Ayaka’s age and my role, and Ai’s schoolteachers questioned her “new dad.” I knew this path was thorny, but Ayaka’s love steeled my resolve.

Chapter 6: Redemption Through Pure Love
To give their child stability, Shota and Ayaka moved to a small coastal town in Shizuoka, away from Tokyo’s rumors. Ayaka opened a cozy café, “Sea Breeze Coffee,” selling hand-brewed coffee and homemade cakes; Shota worked remotely, occasionally fixing computers for fishermen. Their life seemed simple, Ai’s laughter and Ayaka’s gentle smiles making every sacrifice worthwhile.
Their sex remained sensual yet loving. One night, Ai asleep, Ayaka wore a sheer lace nightgown, her pregnant hips rounder, breasts enticing. In Shota’s arms, she whispered, “Shota, I’m so tired today… love me, make me forget those harsh stares…” Shota kissed her, hands in her gown, kneading her breasts, her sensitive nipples sparking moans. He licked her pussy, juices dripping, her cries rising, “Shota… it’s so good… I need you…” He entered her gently, thrusts deep but soft, her orgasmic squirts wetting his abs, her voice soft: “Shota… with you, I fear nothing…”
They played light SM for fun—Ayaka bought silk ties, loving when Shota bound her wrists, blindfolded her, heightening her senses. One night, tied to the bed, Shota teased her nipples and clit with a feather wand, her writhing moans begging, “Shota… you’re bad… fuck me…” He used a low-vibe massager on her pussy, then fucked her ass gently, cumming inside. She trembled, climaxing, saying, “Shota… I love you… forever…”
Their daughter, Koharu, was born, with Ayaka’s eyes and Shota’s nose. Ayaka, holding her, wept, “Shota, thank you for giving me a family.” Shota kissed her forehead, “Ayaka-san, we’re family.”

Chapter 7: Town Gossip
Shota and Ayaka, with newborn Koharu, settled in a Shizuoka seaside town, far from Tokyo’s whispers. They rented an old wooden house with a small yard, Ayaka running “Sea Breeze Coffee,” Shota coding remotely. Koharu’s giggles and Ayaka’s warmth made life seem idyllic.
But beneath the town’s calm lurked undercurrents. Their arrival—a 38-year-old widow and 20-year-old student with a baby—sparked curiosity. Women at the market whispered, calling Ayaka a “man-stealer,” a “shameless widow”; men leered at her breasts, speculating about her past. Koharu’s birth certificate listed Shota as the father, fueling rumors of him being a “duped kid” or their bond “incestuous.”
Ayaka stayed strong, smiling at customers, but Shota noticed her staring blankly on the porch at night. Hugging her, he asked, “Ayaka-san, what’s wrong?” She shook her head, choking, “Shota, I’m scared… what if they hurt you and Koharu… am I selfish, dragging you into this?” Shota kissed her forehead, “Ayaka-san, we’re family. Nothing can stop us.”
Pressure wasn’t just gossip. The café’s early success waned as some locals boycotted “that woman’s shop.” Shota’s work suffered when a client, hearing of his “family,” canceled a contract. Society’s bias tightened like a net, suffocating them.

Chapter 8: Erotic Solace
Facing cold stares, Ayaka and Shota’s love became their sanctuary. Their sex, sensual yet loving, countered stress. One night, Koharu asleep, Ayaka wore a sheer lace nightgown, her post-pregnancy curves alluring. Cuddling Shota, she murmured, “Shota, I’m exhausted… love me, let me forget those nasty looks…”
Shota kissed her, hands in her gown, kneading her breasts, her breastfeeding-sensitive nipples sparking moans. He licked her pussy, juices soaking the couch. She gripped his head, crying, “Shota… it’s so good… I need you…” He entered her, thrusts gentle for her post-partum body, her squirting orgasm wetting his abs, her whisper soft: “Shota… with you, I’m fearless…”
They played light SM for spice—Ayaka got silk ties, loving Shota binding her wrists, blindfolding her to sharpen senses. One night, tied to the bed, Shota teased her nipples and clit with a feather, her writhing moans begging, “Shota… you’re naughty… fuck me…” He used a low-vibe massager on her pussy, then fucked her ass gently, cumming inside. She shuddered, climaxing, “Shota… I love you… forever…”
These erotic moments let them forget external pressure, their love burning brighter. But Shota knew sex alone couldn’t solve their issues; they had to face bias head-on.

Chapter 9: Fighting Prejudice
Town gossip escalated into open conflict. One day, middle-aged women at the café berated Ayaka, “You, seducing young boys, dare open a shop to shame us!” Ayaka apologized, tears welling. Shota stormed in, shielding her, roaring, “How dare you judge her? She’s my love, my child’s mother!”
The clash drew a crowd, chaos ensuing. An elderly woman, Keiko Tanaka, intervened, “Shota-kun, Ayaka-san, we shouldn’t judge by looks. Your commitment is enough.” Keiko, a respected elder, quieted some locals. Shota and Ayaka bowed gratefully, feeling a glimmer of support.
To shift perceptions, Shota suggested a community event to show Ayaka’s true self. They hosted a “Parent-Child Baking Day” at the café, inviting families to make cakes. Ayaka, in a simple apron, smiled warmly, teaching kids to knead dough, answering questions patiently. Koharu’s giggles charmed women. Post-event, attitudes softened, café business picking up.
But challenges persisted. A self-proclaimed journalist arrived, claiming to write about “age-gap romances,” but aiming to expose their “scandal.” He snuck photos of Ayaka, bribing locals for dirt. Shota confronted him, warning, “Hurt my family, and you’ll regret it.” The journalist sneered, “What can a broke student do?”

Chapter 10: Trial of Love
The journalist’s threat pushed Shota and Ayaka to breaking point. Ayaka doubted herself, “Shota, maybe I don’t deserve you… you’re young, you should have a better future…” Shota hugged her, “Ayaka-san, you and Koharu are my future. No rumors or reporters can tear us apart.”
To protect their family, Shota contacted a lawyer friend from university, preparing to sue the journalist for privacy invasion. He anonymously posted a blog online, detailing their love—from taboo beginnings to pure redemption, using pseudonyms. The heartfelt words moved netizens, some commenting, “Love knows no age, only sincerity.” This gave them courage.
Ayaka faced the town boldly, posting an open letter at the café, admitting her past—widowhood’s pain, loneliness, and love with Shota. She wrote, “I’m not perfect, but I love my family. Please give us a chance to live normally.” The letter touched many, café traffic rebounding, even attracting tourists.
Their sex deepened in these trials. After the journalist issue eased, Ayaka, in a loose robe, her breasts teasingly visible, hugged Shota, “Shota, thank you for not giving up…” He shed her robe, kissed her breasts, tied her hands with silk, licking her pussy. She moaned, “Shota… I’m yours…” He thrust slowly, their climax a tearful cry: “Shota… I love you…” Their cum and juices sealed their vow.

Chapter 11: Eternal Family
A year later, the journalist was fined in court, Ayaka and Shota’s story a town legend. Their café thrived, a local landmark. Koharu toddled, giggling “Papa” and “Mama,” moistening their eyes. Locals ceased gossip, accepting the unique couple, inviting them to festivals.
Their love, tempered by pressure, grew unyielding. At night, post-café close, they made love, Ayaka riding Shota, her breasts bouncing, moaning, “Shota… we won…” Shota held her hips, kissing her, “Ayaka-san, you’re my home.” They played erotic games, like dripping low-temp wax on her thighs, her shudders climaxing, but love remained central.
One day, Ayaka found herself pregnant again. Hugging Shota, she smiled through tears, “Shota, another family member’s coming.” Shota kissed her belly, “Ayaka-san, we’ll be happier this time.” Their love, born in taboo desire, found eternity in purity. Koharu’s laughter, Ayaka’s breasts, Shota’s resolve formed an unshakable family.