Underfoot feels like that moment when you tell yourself “nah, I can handle this kink” and then three scenes later you’re staring at the screen, pants halfway down, wondering when exactly you lost all moral brakes. It throws you right into the guy’s shoes, except the game clearly cares more about what’s happening under those shoes. The whole thing is framed like you’re this semi-normal dude with a partner you actually like, but the real star is how fast your brain starts bending once other people, other hands, and especially other feet get involved. The netorase angle isn’t just some checkbox, it’s basically the spine: you’re not just watching someone fuck your woman, you’re low-key helping, guiding, and pretending you’re still in control while the game just taps “are you sure?” over and over. And yeah, I clicked yes every single time.

The foot focus is not subtle. If you’re even a little weak for toes, soles, arches, stockings, all that, it’s dangerous. There were moments where nothing “big” was happening, just a slow footjob under the table, and that worked on me harder than full-on group sex later. The game is kind of mean about it too: it keeps giving you angles where you barely see the rest of the body, just her heels pressing your already used cock, or her pantyhose wrinkling around her toes while she uses you like some stress ball. It’s the kind of pacing I usually hate, but here it almost felt like a leaderboard challenge: how long can you keep your sanity while your character keeps letting other guys get in on the fun and you’re stuck with her feet or the “reward” creampie that doesn’t even fully belong to you. And I swear, whoever wrote those small corrupting choices really understands that nasty “I know this is wrong but fuck it” feeling. You tell her to flirt “just a little,” then that “little” turns into her sitting between two dudes, your dick trapped between her soles while they go for other holes. At that point it’s not even jealousy anymore, it’s this weird proud humiliation, like you’re top-ranking in some hidden cuck scoreboard only degenerates can see.

What surprised me is how casual the corruption creeps in. At first it’s like, ok, she’s teasing you with her feet, maybe a solo anal scene to spice things up, nothing crazy, just you two. Then someone else walks into frame. Then another. Then she’s taking multiple cocks at once, and you’re there, on the side, getting a sloppy, almost lazy footjob while watching. It hits harder because you kinda asked for this. You get those little “innocent” choices that sound safe, until you realize they opened the door for her to say “it’s just sex, relax” while she gets filled and you’re not even the main event. The cheating isn’t sneaky either, it’s right in your face, like the game is grabbing your head and turning it toward every thrust. I liked that I felt complicit, but also kind of pathetic, which is honestly what I’m chasing with this genre more than some perfect ending. There is swinging flavor too, but it always comes back to her feet and your role as the guy who thought he was orchestrating everything, then ends up happy to be used like an afterthought. By the last scenes I wasn’t even checking my usual “challenge list” anymore, just waiting to see how much further she’d go while you still pretend you’re fine with all of it. Spoiler: you’re not fine, but your dick absolutely is.

This thing feels like somebody smashed together every horny Japan fantasy from old forums, some meme culture, and then just let it run free on your phone while you pretend you’re checking WhatsApp in public. You’re this dude dropped into “country of the rising sun” territory, but it’s not trying to be deep or realistic. It’s more like scrolling horny Twitter, then suddenly you’re in the middle of a harem adventure where everyone has gravity‑defying tits and no sense of personal space. First girl I met had boobs so big they were practically their own side characters, bouncing like they’re animated on a slightly drunk Friday night. She’s flirting, you’re picking dialogue, suddenly it goes from joking about anime to her pressed against you in a train, nipples poking through the uniform like the fabric is begging for mercy. And the game just shrugs like “yeah, that’s normal here.”

What I really liked is it pretends to be a laid-back sandbox romance, then slips a parody scene right in the middle of you trying to be a decent guy. One moment you’re walking around some generic city street, basic UI at the bottom, checking your messages, thinking you’re playing it smooth like in a dating sim. Next moment, a crossover event slaps you in the face: a familiar “totally not that famous waifu from that big anime” shows up, with bigger tits, new name, same chaotic energy. She cracks a dirty joke, the game breaks the fourth wall, and suddenly you’re in her room, clothes half off, phone vibrating on the bed, and she’s riding you like she’s trying to break a speedrun record. The sex scenes go straight to the point: pussy shots, close view, her moaning in that over-the-top anime style while your character’s just hanging on for dear life. There is one romance path where you actually feel something like feelings, then the script instantly ruins it with some dumb gag and I kind of loved that, even if it pissed me off. Vaginal scenes are done like old-school hentai loops, lots of focus on those huge boobs bouncing in rhythm, cum dripping, her legs wrapped around you while the camera refuses to be modest. Sometimes the pacing is all over the place, like you switch from a funny harem argument to a hardcore fuck session with almost no buildup, and it shouldn’t work, but somehow that chaos kind of fits the whole vibe. I opened it once just to “check something quick” and ended up stuck on a long scene with three girls teasing each other over who gets to sit on your lap first, like a horny version of musical chairs that never ends properly.

On mobile it’s very “one hand for phone, one hand for you,” which feels intentional. Text choices, quick taps, small icons, you’re flirting while your bus stop is getting closer and closer and you’re absolutely not stopping the scene. There’s this one adventure-style part where you’re moving between locations, picking who to visit, and you accidentally trigger a chain where two big-boob heroines end up arguing over you at a café. They lean in, tits almost on the table, voices rising, and some NPCs in the background are drawn like they know exactly what’s about to happen. Next cut, one drags you somewhere “private,” shoves your back to the wall, yanks your pants down, and starts riding your dick raw, her breasts slapping your chest, sweat on her collarbone catching the light. The parody side keeps leaking in: a character referencing gacha pulls while literally “pulling” your cock, or romance flags popping right when she’s moaning your name with her pussy clenching on you. It’s stupid, overcharged, self-aware, actually kind of sweet in a very horny, very not-safe-for-anything way, and incredibly easy to play with your thumb while you pretend you’re just checking Instagram.

Elizabeth Barton is the kind of redhead your brain keeps replaying when you should answer emails. Middle of her life, big tits that make blouses look like they’re about to file a complaint, tight business skirts, that “I know what I’m doing and I know you’re looking” vibe. She runs this clothing franchise like a boss, but the game doesn’t treat her like some cold power woman. She’s messy, horny, insecure in the little ways that feel too real. One minute she’s calculating sales, the next she’s staring at herself in the mirror in her office, hand sliding under the waistband, pretending the security cameras can’t see shit. They can’t. Probably.

Then Holly just dumps her daughter on her. That’s where the summer gets weird. Jessica walks in like trouble in short shorts, that mix of brat and lonely girl, the kind where you know she’s going to push every line because nobody’s watching her close enough. The game really leans into that slow-burn teasing. First it’s small stuff. Liz catching Jessica lying on the couch, legs open a bit too wide, phone in hand, watching some guy rail a girl on Pornhub with the volume almost off but not quite. You have this tiny choice: pretend you didn’t hear the moans or make a joke that is way too adult for an “aunt.” Both feel bad in a good way. And because it uses multiple protagonist, you jump into Jessica’s head after that scene and realize she noticed the stare, liked it, and then goes to her room to masturbate with her earphones in, replaying that half-second of eye contact.

The game’s sex content is filthy in a slow, adult way, not just “click to see boobs.” You get lesbian tension between Liz and some older MILF customer who comes in for “help with sizing” and very obviously wants Liz on her knees between the dresses rack. There’s this oral scene in the stockroom with a Black delivery guy that hits that interracial porn energy without turning him into a stupid caricature, which surprised me. Liz acts like it’s a one-time mistake and then checks the delivery schedule twice a day. At the same time, you might push her toward cheating in a more emotional way: late-night messages, hand under the table scenes, her rubbing her thighs together when her “partner” sends her a dick pic during a family dinner. Sometimes the cheating is only in her head, sometimes you fully go for it and watch her swallow and then go home like nothing happened.

And Jessica isn’t just some side prop. When you play from her POV, she’s got all this pent-up bi curiosity. The way she looks at Liz is part “aunt” and part “woman with big ass who clearly knows how to fuck,” which is… yeah. There’s a sequence where Jessica borrows Liz’s blouse, doesn’t wear a bra, then does a little private stripping in Liz’s bedroom mirror, grinding on a pillow, imagining Liz walking in. You can later nudge the story so that Liz actually does walk in during a different “accident” and the look they share is way hotter than half of the full-on sex scenes. That’s the good stuff. And the office scenes, holy shit. Doing boring stock numbers on a laptop while there’s a vibrator inside, trying to stay professional on a video call while clenching? It hits different when the character is a businesswoman who’s supposed to act all proper. I wish the phone UI in-game wasn’t so clunky, notifications sometimes pop in weird timing and broke my mood once, but then Liz bent over to pick something and her skirt rode up and my brain just deleted the complaint.

By the time lesbian scenes start to properly bloom, like Liz and a regular customer sharing wine after closing time in the fitting room, slow kissing, one hand under the shirt, one between thighs, licking like they’ve been thinking about it since the first discount coupon, it feels earned. Not rushed. And when the game flips back to Jessica alone in her room, watching lesbian porn on her phone, trying to match the rhythm, moaning into the pillow so Liz doesn’t hear… that contrast is nasty in the best way. Nothing in this story feels safe. People are always one drink, one late shift, one “accidental” touch on the big tits away from blowing up their boring lives. It’s that quiet tension of a long summer where everyone is horny, pretending they’re not, while the clothing store, the house, even the fitting rooms feel like they’re soaked in sex already.

Galactic Athletes feels like someone mashed together the Olympic Games, a horny soap opera, and that one locker room fantasy you never told your therapist about. You play as Finn, a new medic at Thebes Sporting Complex, and on paper his job is to keep all these huge, ripped, very not shy athletes healthy. In practice he spends a lot of time with a tablet in his hand, a hard-on in his pants, and a boss who basically tells him: “Guess who wins, guess who loses, or you’re screwed.” The twist is beautiful in a stupid way: every event ends with the winner fucking the guy who comes last. Gold medal equals top. Last place equals fresh, sweaty bottom. Sports science meets porn logic, and somehow it makes sense while you play.

The whole thing runs like a horny prediction game inside a visual novel. You move through event schedules, medical checkups, locker room talks, post-match “therapy” sessions. Before each event you look at the athletes, listen to their cocky bragging, check their conditions, and try to guess who’s going to take first and who’s going to eat the dust, and then eat something else later. There was this one javelin scene where I totally misread a shy, lanky guy, thought he would choke under pressure, marked him as last. Then he absolutely destroyed the field, turned around with this smug little smile, and later I had to watch him pin a muscle monster to the bench and grind him into it while Finn stands there trying to pretend he’s taking clinical notes. That moment hurt my ego more than it should, but I still rewatched it twice. For “research.” The sex scenes don’t feel like some random gallery you click through. They are chained directly to how you read those guys, how you interpret their bodies, their nerves, their stamina. If you fuck up your predictions, somebody else gets fucked, and not in the way you hoped, which is somehow worse than losing in a normal game. And yeah, it calls itself a league, but the whole setting feels closer to ancient Greek mythology fanfic where Zeus opened a gay gym and never invented clothes. I know Thebes is from Greek tragedies, but here it’s basically a giant sex clinic with running tracks.

What I enjoy most is how the game treats the athletes like horny gods and also idiots at the same time. They are tall, thick-chested, thighs like tree trunks, and there is zero shame about how much attention is on their cocks, their asses, the way sweat sticks to body hair. You get these surprisingly tender moments too, like one sprinter limping in after a bad run, Finn icing his leg, both of them talking about pressure and fear, and then five minutes later the same guy is buck naked, bent over a massage table, groaning while the new league champion pushes in slowly, and Finn is on the side trying to judge if this counts as “recovery protocol.” I wish the game actually punished wrong predictions harder sometimes, like really lock you into awkward pairings and force you to watch your least favorite guy get topped over and over, just to be cruel, but it kind of plays nice with you in a way that doesn’t match how brutal sports can be. Still, you get that nice balance where sometimes you are genuinely reading their psychology, like “he’s too confident, he will blow his load early,” and sometimes you just pick the one whose ass you want to see ruined. It pretends to be about strategy, then laughs and shows you two sweaty men going at it against the wall of the locker room while towels slowly slide off the hooks. It’s all gay, all the time, and proudly so, like old-school bara doujin met a modern queer sports anime and they got very drunk together. I opened it thinking “ok, just some porn with medals,” and somehow ended up caring who makes Champion’s league and who falls into Redemption league hell, which to be honest, is where all the best fucking happens anyway.