There is this pretty ordinary looking bar game that kind of pretends to be about “business” and “renovation” and whatever, but honestly it is about staring at hot women in tight clothes while pretending you care about paint colors. You play this guy who comes back to his hometown to reopen his dad’s old place, and right away the game starts mixing that “I want to make my father proud” vibe with “I want to fuck basically everyone who lives under this roof”. Very Greek tragedy, if Euripides had a Pornhub premium account. The whole thing feels like a visual novel that accidentally read too much Bukowski and then watched hentai compilations on Twitter. Most scenes are from the hero’s POV so you’re not just watching, you are literally stuck behind his eyes while he tries not to stare at asses and obviously fails. It’s that slow teasing that gets you: brushing against a thigh “by accident”, a too-long hug in the kitchen, a towel slipping just enough when she bends to pick something, the camera angle doing 90% of the work.

The game likes to pretend it’s romantic, and sometimes it really is. There are these quiet moments where you sit with the MILF character on the couch, she talks about regrets and age and the bar’s past, and you almost forget you spent the previous scene with your hand on her ass while she “helped” you clean the counter. Then it goes from emotional to horny in one line of dialogue. You’ll be talking about invoices and suddenly you are in the stockroom, her back against the crates, your hand under her shirt, groping her tits while she bites her lip and tries not to moan too loud because someone might walk by. The animations sell it pretty hard: hands actually squeeze, hips grind, mouths open and drool a bit when they lose control. First time you push a girl to a messy ahegao during a handjob and she looks half broken, half delighted, it’s like some weird crossover between Joyce’s stream of consciousness and “oh shit, she’s actually into this”. The voyeurism stuff sneaks up on you too; one night you wander the house, see a door slightly open, and you can just stand there and watch her on her bed, fingers buried between her thighs, whispering your name while you do nothing but breathe. Or you do something. The game lets you decide if you stay in the shadows jerking off silently, or you step inside and end up with her mouth full of you, warm spit running down your shaft while she stares up, eyes watering, waiting for that mouthful of cum like some bizarre holy communion.

Sex scenes escalate in a way that feels messy and human instead of clinical. The first time you finally fuck one of them, it is not Olympic porn star performance. It starts with awkward kissing, some shy oral where she tries to take you deeper and gags, pulls back with tears in her eyes and then insists she wants it again. You get that clumsy first vaginal sex where she’s still technically a virgin and keeps telling you to go slow, nails digging in your shoulders when you push in all the way. Later she’s riding you on a barstool, panties pushed to the side, your cock sliding in and out while you try to keep quiet because, yes, the front door is not locked. Anal comes in as this “we really shouldn’t” moment after she’s already dripping from regular sex; you spit in your hand, rub her tight little hole, she curses you in that half joking way and then you press in and feel her whole body shiver in the animation. Creampies happen a lot, probably more than is medically responsible. You finish inside, watch the cum slowly leak out of her swollen pussy, sometimes from her ass, sometimes filling her mouth until she gives you that stupid happy ahegao face and swallows with a loud gulp. There’s humour everywhere, dumb jokes about drink names while her hand is stroking you under the counter, flirting that feels like those horny Discord servers where everyone pretends to be ironic and then starts cybering anyway. It’s not subtle, it’s not elegant, it’s just this strange mix of romance, filth, and renovation spreadsheets that somehow works until you catch yourself caring which wall you paint while replaying the memory of her moaning your name in your head.