A husband, a stupid fight, and that sick feeling in your gut when you suddenly notice how short your own shadow looks next to another guy’s. That is basically where this story sits, grinning at you. You follow this poor bastard of a husband who starts the evening thinking he is “the man of the house” and ends up wondering if his wife is getting her pussy filled by somebody taller, thicker, and a lot more confident. The game plays like a teasing lecture about NTR, but not in a cold way. It is like a drunk friend whispering in your ear, “You see that guy talking to your wife? Yeah, that is how it starts.” The visuals sell that uneasy vibe: soft, slow camera-like cuts, those slightly too-long pauses on her lips when she smiles at someone else, her shirt clinging in all the right places, and his eyes squinting like he is trying not to imagine her on her knees, drool on another man’s shaft. The pace is not rushed, it pokes you. You get moments where almost nothing “big” happens, just small looks, off-hand comments, her phone lighting up with a message while she is in the shower and you are left staring at the screen, imagining every filthy word she might be reading.

There is a strong “PSA from hell” vibe, yeah, like some horny officer in a police comedy explaining step by step how your wife goes from “I would never cheat” to getting her ass slapped by a stranger in some cheap hotel on vacation. The husband is technically the male protagonist, but it never really feels like you are in control. You are more like a ghost stuck in his skull, dragged through his jealousy, his twisted fantasies, his humiliation. One scene that hit hard: he is sitting on the bed, replaying his argument with his wife, and his brain starts playing its own porn parody. Suddenly she is there in his mind, bent over the kitchen counter, big tits pressed on the cold surface, some smug bastard gripping her hips while she moans his name instead. The sounds get louder than his own thoughts. Little sticky lip noises, wet slaps, her breathy “harder” that he is not sure she ever said to him in real life. The game leans into that: you never know where reality stops and his corrupted imagination starts. Sometimes you see Sara in normal everyday clothes, then next transition she is in a tight uniform, unbuttoned just enough, or a cheap lingerie set that looks like it was bought for someone else’s eyes. You get flashes of oral, her cheeks hollowed around a thick cock, but it cuts away too soon, almost mocking you. And in the middle of all this, the tone suddenly slides into this weird humor, like a wink to those who know Konosuba jokes and tentacle memes, like the narrator is some half-drunk wiz giving you “NTR survival tips” while the real lesson is just: if you feel it happening, it probably started a long time ago, back when you ignored how she smiled at her “friend” a little too much. The game never holds your hand. It kind of laughs while you squirm.