Sam walks into this summer thinking he’s just crashing at some random house, and then realizes it’s Michael’s place, the guy who used to fuck his mom and kind of fucked up his childhood a bit too. That alone already feels messy in a good way, because the game doesn’t treat him like a cardboard porn hero. He’s awkward, petty, horny, confused, all in the same scene. One moment he’s remembering how much he hated this man, the next he’s catching himself staring at Michael’s back when he bends over in the kitchen, noticing how broad it got, how tight that shirt sits, and pretending it’s not happening. The writing leans heavily into that “I shouldn’t want this, but my cock disagrees” mood. There’s a shot where Michael walks past him with just a towel and you can practically feel the air choke in Sam’s throat. No cheesy fanfare, just that slow eye-line drifting down, catching the bulge, then snapping back up like nothing happened. It’s horny, but it’s also painfully human in that stupid, familiar way: wanting the one person you’re absolutely not supposed to touch.

What surprised me is how the game uses its pretty slick 3D-style CG not to show everything at once, but to make every little contact feel heavier than it is. A hand on the shoulder lingers too long. Knees brushing on the couch. A hug that’s a bit too tight for “ex-stepdad and kid he barely knows.” And then the other guys show up. There’s this furry dude with a huge ass that looks ridiculous and perfect at the same time, and the camera knows it. The game is not shy at all about Sam’s gaze; you’re constantly pushed into his POV, tracking body parts, tongues, fingers, cocks, like an academic study that got lost and became porn. Oral scenes in particular have this lingering focus on lips and spit, like the dev actually likes mouths and not just penetration. When things finally escalate and you get anal on screen, it’s not some instant porn logic. They build the tension with small touches and loaded dialogue, so when Sam finally ends up spread and filled, or doing the filling, it feels like a line being crossed, not just a checkbox. Animated loops kick in during the hotter moments, and while they’re not ultra-polished, the slightly stiff motion almost fits the tone: imperfect, a bit clumsy, like people actually fucking instead of posing for a catalog. The optional choices around who Sam flirts back with, which guy he lets get closer, let you nudge him toward your favorite flavor of disaster, whether that’s the older guy he’s supposed to resent, the sexy anthropomorphic hunk with that absurd bubble butt, or some mix that turns his “summer before uni” into a quietly filthy coming-out spiral he never planned for.