This one hits that weird spot between racing nerd fantasy and horny VN, like those old doujin games people traded on shady forums, just with more shiny bodies and less crash physics. You’re this hotshot kart kid getting thrown into a small Formula Junior team that’s kinda fucked up and kinda charming at the same time. On one side you’ve got the smell of rubber, the tension of practice laps, the constant talk about sector times and tire temps. On the other side, every woman around you looks like she escaped from some late 2000s hentai artbook where breasts were legally required to ignore gravity. The big chested blonde who calls herself your “lucky charm” keeps leaning into your cockpit before qualifying, “adjusting” your harness while her tits fill half the screen, and you’re there trying to pretend you care about the fuel load. You can almost feel the old Sega arcade vibes and then suddenly she’s teasing you about how “stressed” you look and offering to help you “relax” in the trailer behind the paddock, dropping to her knees and turning a pep talk scene into a wet, slow blowjob with saliva strings animated way too lovingly for a “small” indie project.

What I liked a lot is how the track days and the lewd stuff blend instead of feeling like two separate games stapled together. There’s a moment after a rough race where you lose a position because you went too aggressive into turn one, and the busty team milf in charge of logistics drags you into the motorhome for a “private debrief”. She’s this mature brunette with that tired but horny look, half scolding you for burning the tires, half riding your lap like she’s trying to break the suspension, moaning in your ear about “control” and “knowing when to push in”. It’s cheesy, but in that nostalgic hentai way, like those old OVAs where they pretended to care about plot for 5 minutes then went full dick worship. The teasing is actually decent too. One of the twins, the more smug one, sits in the passenger seat of your road car during a late night drive, legs open, panties barely there, brushing her foot against your crotch while she talks about racing lines. She never lets you cum in that scene, ends it right when your bar is full, and the game just moves on like nothing happened. I hated it and loved it. That kind of trolling is peak ero-game energy.

The small stuff: I got way too obsessed with how their hair clips during some of the kissing scenes. You’re lip-locked with the blonde in the garage, your hand on her ridiculous tits, and her ponytail just kinda phases through her shoulder every time her head tilts. It’s not game breaking, it just poked my brain every single time. Also the romance angle tries to be serious here and there, talking about your “past” and your “pressure to succeed”, but right after some emotional line the camera just zooms into a pair of shiny nipples or a tongue swirling around your shaft and the mood dies in the funniest way. Story pacing is like a buffet at a cheap hotel: you have spicy drama, mushy romance, greasy fanservice, all just dumped on one plate, and somehow you’re still eating. There’s a racing rivalry, there’s actually some tension on track, but you’ll probably remember more how the twins “comfort” you after qualifying, one sucking you off while the other jerks your shaft from the base, taking turns, joking about photo finishes. The 3D models look good enough to make you horny and bad enough to remind you this is porn, not Netflix, which is honestly the sweet spot for this genre. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

“Tag” is weird in a good way. Like, you think it’s gonna be some cheap dirty clicker where you just mash through the same moans on repeat - but then it throws you into this slow, teasing chase where you’re somehow both the hunter and the idiot running from your own hormones. The idea’s childish if you describe it out loud, but in the game it feels dangerous, like getting caught with your hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. There’s this one early scene, you’re just standing in a park at dusk, and that milf character - yeah, the one with the kind of body that’d break a chair if she sat too fast - glances over her shoulder like she knows exactly what you’re thinking. It’s not “romance.” It’s bait. You try to act all polite, but every dialogue option wants to pull you into trouble.

And the animations? They’re rough in a way that actually sells it. Not polished like a studio thing, more like somebody poured too much passion into a weekend project and forgot to sleep. There’s a voyeuristic edge that sneaks up on you - like, you think you’re in control, then the camera lingers a second too long, your mouse hovers, and suddenly you’re complicit. The game keeps whispering, “you started this.” It’s not even about the sex half the time, it’s about that feeling of being seen wanting it. She bends, pretends not to notice, and yeah, it’s animated but your brain doesn’t care.

I’d give it the unofficial award for “Most Dangerous Public Boner Potential.” Because it’s not safe. Not emotionally, not morally. It makes you feel like a perv and then pats you on the back for admitting it. Weirdly enough, it works better that way. There’s a bug with the dialogue skipping, though - sometimes you miss a line right when she’s saying something filthy and it kills the rhythm. Still, I replayed anyway, just to catch that half-whispered line I missed. Maybe it’s broken. Maybe that’s exactly why it turns me on.

Sex in space always sounds kind of goofy in my head, but this one actually leans into that mess instead of pretending to be “hard sci-fi”. You start as this assistant to a big-shot senator on Earth, while Mars is trying to become its own thing with its own rules, own calendar, own kinks. Your boss is all about shutting down polygamy and polyandry, making marriage “pure” again, and then your character is constantly surrounded by people who very clearly don’t give a shit about that. So half the time you’re writing dry political speeches and the other half you’re secretly watching someone get their ass smacked red in a private office on a station orbiting Venus. Kind of a mood shift, but it works better than it should.

The sex itself is not shy at all. Big tits, big asses, a lot of focus on slow touching, groping, hands sliding under clothes during “serious” meetings. There are animated scenes where a calm talk about Martian independence suddenly turns into the candidate bending forward over a desk, skirt pushed up, and the protagonist’s hand comes down on her ass again and again while she’s trying to keep her voice steady. The game loves mixing politics talk with dirty stuff like that. Some routes get really messy with cheating: you can be the side piece for a married Martian diplomat, watching from a hidden camera while her official husband is busy somewhere else. There are scenes where you sit alone in your cabin on a Mars shuttle, jerking off while scrolling through secret footage on your mobile, watching your lover ride someone else’s cock and pretending you are okay with it. That voyeurism and netorare angle hits harder than I expected, because the story actually spends time letting you like these people first. It stings when you realize she is moaning louder for the other guy than she ever did for you. There are oral scenes where you feel less like a hero and more like a consolation prize, sitting on the edge of a bed while she goes down on you right after coming back from “meeting her campaign donor”. And sometimes the interracial angle pops up in a way that is not very subtle: Earth-born, Mars-born, different skin tones, different bodies, your character stuck in the middle trying to pretend this is all just politics. The game jumps from romantic cuddling after sex, where she snuggles into your chest and actually looks soft and in love, to cold, distant masturbation scenes where you’re alone again, jerking off to something on your phone because she did not show up. The romance has sweet bits, but the cheating keeps cutting through it, and somehow that mix of warmth and betrayal feels very on-brand for a future where love and law are constantly pulling in different directions.

Storm, wet wood, that weird mix of salt and fear in your throat, and right in the middle of that you’ve got her: this perfect elven wife who still somehow looks holy even with her robes clinging to her curves. The game throws you onto this nameless island like the ocean just spat you out, and suddenly your “happily ever after” feels like a joke with bad timing. It’s not a complicated setup, actually kind of simple, which makes it worse. You, the loyal husband, still trying to act like a hero. Her, the devout priestess who actually believes all that purity talk. And then that guy, Borwin, this sweaty, wheezing sailor with piggy eyes who starts looking at her like she’s the last piece of meat in the world. The whole thing is a slow punch in the gut, because nothing explodes, nobody just jumps into fucking right away. It just stretches. Long glances. His “accidental” touches. Her nervous smile that hangs a little too long. And you get stuck watching, almost tasting that ugly mix of jealousy and arousal in your own mouth, like cheap rum you didn’t mean to drink.

What hit me hardest is how the game doesn’t rush the dirty stuff. First it plays with your brain. They’re sitting close to the fire, he laughs too loud, his hand lands on her thigh, and she doesn’t slap it away. Not right away. You feel that little sting in your chest, like, “hey, that’s my wife,” but you also stare at the screen longer than you should. When he ogles her tits through soaked fabric, it’s not subtle, and she notices, but instead of screaming she blushes and fidgets and pretends she didn’t see. It’s messed up, watching her slowly slide from “holy and untouchable” to “kind of flattered that this filthy bastard wants her so bad.” The corruption is mostly in her expressions, tiny shifts. Mouth a bit more parted when he leans close. Eyes not quite meeting yours. Then the touches change. His hand on her ass when he helps her “climb over a rock.” His fingers brushing along the inside of her thigh while he plays it off like he’s checking a wound. There’s a scene where she’s kneeling in front of him, supposedly “tending an injury,” and the camera knows exactly what your brain is doing. Her face is too close to his crotch, her lips too wet, and for a second the game just lets you sit there wondering if she’s going to use her mouth on him or if you’re just filthy for even thinking it.

At some point the line breaks and you don’t even remember exactly where. One night the priestess who swore her body belongs to the gods is on her back, robe pushed up, legs spread, and the guy filling her is not you. She moans in a way you’ve never heard from her scenes with you, louder, less controlled, like her body finally stopped pretending. Her tits bounce when he pounds into her, her ass lifts up to meet him, and you feel this horrible heat in your gut because the animation really leans into how much she’s getting into it. She grabs his arm, begs him not to stop, and the worst part is how her words sound half like prayer, half like porn. There’s this nasty little bit where he gropes her under the pretense of “warming her up” after a cold night, his thick fingers pushing under her clothes, and she’s shivering but not from the cold anymore. She bites her lip, tries to mumble something about “marriage vows,” but she’s grinding against his hand while she says it. Oral, handjob, full-on fucking, it all comes, just not in the order your pride would like. The game never lets you escape that tight, ugly feeling of watching your “treasure” get taken, then watching her start to want it more than anything you ever gave her. And you know what makes it even dirtier? There’s no choice to fix it, no magic button to “save” her. You’re just there, stuck in your own skin, watching this elf with a big perfect ass and soft bouncing tits get slowly rewritten by a disgusting sailor, and somewhere in the middle of her crying and moaning you realize you’re stroking yourself and hating yourself at the same time.