Summer in this game feels like that sticky week in August where everything is boring as hell, you’re scrolling on your phone, refreshing the same three apps, and suddenly you start noticing how your foster mom bends over in the kitchen. It plays right in that lazy suburb vibe: hot air, cheap fan, squeaky floor, and everyone in the house pretending to be normal while their clothes keep getting shorter. You’re the guy stuck in the middle of it, doing fake “quests” to make yourself feel productive while your eyes keep wandering to tits and asses you’re not really supposed to stare at. Of course you stare anyway. The game knows that. It pushes you toward it, slowly, like that first time you hovered too long over someone’s Instagram story, zooming in on the bikini shot.

What I liked is how regular moments get horny for no good reason. You wake up, walk to the kitchen, foster mom is there in a thin tank top with no bra, nipples poking through, and she just “forgets” to notice you’re basically eye-level with her chest when she leans down. The foster sister lounges on the couch in tiny shorts, legs open a bit too much, scrolling TikTok, pretending your gaze doesn’t turn her on. You get small scenes where you “help” her put sunscreen on by the backyard pool and your hand just stays on her ass a little longer, fingers sliding too close, and she shivers and pretends it’s just the wind. The voyeur stuff hits good too: passing by half open doors, catching her taking a selfie in the mirror with her tits pushed together, or seeing foster mom in the shower through fogged glass, hand between her legs, thinking no one is watching. Except you are. You always are. Sometimes the game makes you wait, which is annoying and kind of hot at the same time.

The lewd scenes themselves feel like a teenager’s fever dream that accidentally grew up a little. Handjobs on the couch while the TV is on, her stroking you under a blanket while the sound of some dumb sitcom laughs in the background. Big tits filling the screen when she “teaches” you how to relax, wrapping her fingers around your cock, slow and sloppy, eyes locked on yours like this is just another part of family life. There’s a bit with foster mom bending over to pick something up and if you played smart before, you can step closer, grab her hips from behind, let her feel how hard you are through your shorts. She pretends to resist for half a second, then pushes her ass back into you in this slow, greedy grind. And yeah, the asses here are exactly what the tags promise: big, bouncy, the kind that jiggles when you smack it and keeps jiggling a second too long. Sometimes the pacing drags, sometimes the dialogue feels like it was written by a horny guy who discovered Google Translate, but it sort of matches the messy, not-quite-right vibe of a foster family that suddenly feels way too intimate for comfort. It’s like being trapped in a long, endless, way-too-sexual summer, where every glance is a test and every “innocent” touch can turn into something you absolutely shouldn’t be doing, but do anyway.

Fashion Spice looks harmless at first, like one more glossy fetish about models with huge tits fighting for the camera, but the game is way more fucked up and strangely smart about how it turns “levelling” into corruption. You start as this pretty regular guy tossed into the fashion agency circus, and the first “stats” you really feel aren’t your strength or charisma, it’s how deep you let yourself sink into the agency’s filth. Every scene is kind of a choice between staying human or becoming the kind of bastard the agency clearly wants. Except, little by little, the game rewards you more when you pick the bastard options. That’s the eroge style gamification here: the more you give in, the more the world opens, more girls, more monsters, more backstage privileges, more private shows in dark corridors with too much red light and not enough clothes.

What I liked is how the sex is not just thrown in like “ok, you clicked flirt, here’s generic blowjob.” There’s this scene early on with a shy new model, she’s supposed to do a lingerie test shoot. If you play it gentle, you get cute romance: slow undressing, tongue-heavy kissing, hands on her big ass, simple vaginal sex on the studio couch, kind of vanilla but sweet. If you pressure her a bit, flirt right on the edge, the system flags that in background and suddenly later on she shows up in some “special casting” where a tentacle horror from the agency’s basement “sponsors” new talent. That scene is a wild mix of fear and arousal, multiple penetration, one slick tentacle filling her ass while another pushes a toy inside her and she’s still trying to pretend she’s doing it “for the job.” It’s creepy as hell and hot at same time, like the game is trolling your conscience. The horror tag really shows when you realize those moaning, animated loops in the ritual room actually react to your past choices, not just play randomly. There is a lesbian path with one of the older MILF models that is way too short though, it builds up with all that teasing in the dressing room, mutual masturbation in front of the mirror, tongue work, nails on skin, then it kind of rushes to creampie with a guy in the next event instead of letting the girls breathe more. You get oral sex scenes where the girl is half terrified of what the agency will do if she refuses, then a moment later she’s riding you like a porn pro, and the game just shrugs like, “yeah, that’s showbiz, baby.” Choices really change who ends kneeling in a group sex shoot, who ends screaming in some bloody, tentacle-filled backstage nightmare, who actually falls in love, but the mobile UI makes some menus feel like using early Instagram on a broken phone, especially when your log of encounters gets cluttered. Still, you’re tracking “trust,” “submission,” weird occult “devotion” values, but none of that is explained cleanly; you just notice that the more a girl lets you grope her in crowded hallways or suck you off between two catwalks, the more the story paths twist into dark romance instead of just quick porn scenes. I kept telling myself I’d aim for the soft, romantic route, protect the girls, but the moment I unlocked the first full-on monster gangbang under the runway, with tentacles plugging every hole and cum dripping on designer shoes, I forgot all that moral stuff pretty fast. The pacing is like a messy house party where some rooms are chill, some rooms are outright satanic, and sometimes you open a door expecting anal and get a psychological horror cutscene instead. If you want to squeeze every dirty drop out of it, poke at the seemingly “wrong” answers, save before big choices, and never trust a contract that comes with champagne and a smile.

CheckedIn looks at you like that hot HR manager who says company rules are important, then spends the whole meeting eye-fucking you. You start as the new guy at this fancy hotel, still smelling like cheap deodorant and hope, and everyone acts professional for maybe five minutes before the flirting goes straight into “this is gonna ruin someone’s marriage” territory. Half the women have a ring or “taken” in their bio, and about zero of them act like that actually matters. It’s not subtle. You’re walking through the lobby and the married receptionist is licking her lips around a pen, leaning over the desk so hard her tits are basically a physics experiment, and the game just goes “yeah, this is fine, keep going.” And of course you do.

What I liked most is how work is just an excuse. On paper you’re doing shifts, dealing with customers, checking in guests. In reality you’re checking how fast you can get into your coworker’s mouth in the staff room without anyone walking in. You’ll be in a “serious” talk with your older manager, her blouse too tight, bra slightly visible, and the conversation somehow drifts from schedules to how long you can last with her on her knees. There’s teasing everywhere: a milf guest “accidentally” dropping her key card and bending over slow, a colleague comparing room service tips while staring at your crotch like it’s part of the menu. One moment you’re clicking through normal dialogue, next moment she’s under the desk, your character trying to talk about towels while she’s sucking him off, and you’re just sitting there thinking, yeah, this is exactly how hotels should work. The art has that AI smoothed look sometimes, but those huge tits in tight work clothes and fat asses under pencil skirts still hit way harder than my Instagram explore page. I kept zooming in on stupid stuff like stockings bunched around thighs, lipstick slightly smeared after a blowjob, tiny things that make it feel less like a sterile porn gallery and more like you actually messed someone up behind a locked door. And still, that tiny font on one menu drives me crazy and I keep forgetting which option I clicked, but whatever, nobody’s here for UX design.

What caught me off guard is how the “cheating” part isn’t just flavor text. The game really leans into it. You’re not just flirting with single chicks who pretend to be bad. You’re lining up late-night “meetings” with someone’s wife in a hotel corridor that looks way too quiet, kissing her while she nervously checks her phone, then pushing her against that beige wallpaper and pulling her panties aside because her husband is “out of town.” Sometimes you’re doing oral on them, sometimes they’re giving you head in a guest room that was supposed to stay empty, sometimes it turns into something that almost looks like romance and then the game reminds you she’s going home to another guy. That mix of dirty and kind of sweet is weirdly good. And yeah, there’s humor too, like a coworker cracking jokes while basically flashing you on purpose, or a scene where you’re supposed to be fixing a problem with a guest and end up buried between her thighs instead. It’s messy, horny, not pretending to be deep, full of big tits and big asses squeezed into “professional” outfits, and half the time you forget you’re doing any hotel job at all. Which, honestly, is probably the point even if no one says it.

Bored guy in a glass box in the sky decides he wants to break his toy a little. That is basically the soul of this thing. You start as this marketing exec who has everything dialed in: money, cool apartment with stupidly huge windows, and a girlfriend who looks like she walked out of some luxury perfume ad, all long legs, big tits, expensive taste, polite smile. She is “good girl” in that high society way, the kind that apologizes when the waiter bumps into her. And you look at her and think: what happens if I push? Just a bit. Just enough to crack that perfect mask. So you tell her to take off her clothes next to the glass, where the city can see. It is not even subtle. It is just: show me how far you can fall for me.

What I liked is how dirty it feels without being all screaming porn right away. At first it is like a stupid couple game, 30 seconds with her shirt open, her nipples pressed to the cold glass, you standing behind her, half teasing, half testing. You keep talking, whispering in her ear about people watching, about the office guy across the street maybe jerking off behind his blinds. She blushes, tries to cover herself with her hands, and of course you move them away. Tiny thing that annoyed me: at one point she wears these heels that look like they were grabbed from a random asset store and my brain just fixated on them for no reason. Anyway. Slowly she starts obeying faster. You tell her to bend over, to spread, to let you slide your fingers inside her while the city is right there, all the lights, all the windows. Sometimes the game cuts to this voyeur angle, like you are on the opposite balcony, watching her tits bounce while you fuck her from behind, and it feels wrong in that good, greasy way. Sometimes the pacing is weird and a scene just ends when you actually wanted to stay there longer, with her face smashed on the glass, mouth open, drool, eyes rolling up in that ahegao mess. I even paused once just to stare at the reflection of your own body in the window, pressing close behind her, like you two are on display in some live porn shop above the street.

Over time she shifts from “no, this is crazy” to touching herself on her own, pressing her pussy on the window, rubbing her clit while people maybe walk below and you just watch, arms crossed, this calm little overlord vibe. There is romance, but it is twisted, because every “I love you” is wrapped around male domination. You praise her, then push her harder. Make her suck you while the curtains are half open, then pull her hair and aim your cum so it drips down her chin in full view of those hypothetical neighbors you keep talking about. One creampie scene sticks in my head: you make her ride you facing the glass, her big ass slamming down, your cock buried inside her until you fill her and tell her not to move, to let it leak while she stares at her own reflection, cheeks flushed, half ashamed, half proud. It is corruption but also kind of a collaboration, because she slowly starts wanting it, asking “do you think they can see my tits from here?” then lifting them up like an exhibitionist little trophy. Anal slips in as a sort of next-level dare, where she hesitates, then lets you push in while she bites the glass, hands flat, nails scratching. There is oral, there is masturbation, there are those moments where you catch her stroking herself when you are not even in the room and the camera pretends to be security footage. Part of me wanted more variety outside the apartment, but at the same time, that single cage of glass and city lights gives it this weird art piece feeling, like the whole relationship is a performance for invisible strangers scrolling their phones on the other side of the street.