Bianca and Aaron look like that boring perfect couple you scroll past on Instagram, the ones that post honeymoon pics with too many filters and hashtags, and then you start this story and realize their whole life is hanging by a horny little thread. It kicks off super normal, just a “game night” after the honeymoon, soccer rivalry trash talk, beers on the table, TV on, same old. Then you meet Aaron’s boys, and right away it smells like drama. All three of his so-called best friends have history with his wife. Actual history. One of them literally used to fuck her, not in some vague college fling way, but proper ex-boyfriend who clearly still knows every switch on her body. The game quietly leans into that awkward energy and never lets it go. The camera loves lingering on shit it shouldn’t, like the way Bianca sits too close on the couch, or how her eyes hold a second too long when one of the guys makes a dumb joke. There is animated stuff, yeah, but the real hit is how it builds that slow “everyone knows but no one says it” tension.

Bianca’s not just some perfect waifu. She’s messy in that good way. She dresses hot for “friends coming over” when she really didn’t need to, and the story keeps you guessing if she’s doing it on purpose or just pretending she’s innocent. And then she calls her BFF, which sounds like damage control at first. Like, she doesn’t want to be the only woman in a room full of dudes who already banged her. Fair enough. Except her friend walks in and you instantly go “oh great, she’s worse.” That girl is chaos with lipstick, clearly obsessed with Aaron, and the game does not hide it. The way she touches him when she doesn’t need to, hugs that last a bit too long, that fake friendly “I’m just playing” bullshit that you know is total cap. At some point you stop watching the soccer match almost entirely and just follow who is looking at who behind his back. You get those sneaky shots with Bianca half turned away, texting, or going to “grab something from the kitchen” and someone follows her, and suddenly the whole “game night” thing is just an excuse for everyone to test how far they can push it without Aaron snapping. When the group stuff finally hits, it doesn’t feel random, it feels like the dam you’ve been staring at finally cracking and then absolutely drowning the poor idiot who thought his friends were just friends. There’s this one moment where Aaron is right in the room and the others are basically violating the idea of marriage in front of him, and the story still somehow makes it feel like he’s the outsider in his own house. It’s filthy, kind of mean, and honestly pretty funny in a dark way, like watching a sitcom where the laugh track got replaced by moans and whispered “don’t tell him.”

You know that awful feeling when your phone buzzes, you open the chat, and you’re not sure if you even want to scroll up because you already feel something’s wrong? This game lives inside that feeling. You play as Eddie, normal guy, married, kind of worn out by life, stuck in this shitty loop of work, stress, debt, and a dick that just refuses to cooperate when you actually need it. The whole thing plays out mostly through chats and phone stuff, so you’re basically spying on your own life. Messages, pictures, little bits of “hey babe, miss you” turning into “hey, I’m working late” and then into things you really don’t want to see your wife sending to someone else. And still you keep tapping, because of course you do.

Rachel starts as that sweet, supportive wife who just wants to help, who wants her man back, wants sex that isn’t awkward and half-hearted. The game doesn’t jump straight into filth. It teases you. She takes small jobs, chats with new people, gets “friendly” with that one guy who compliments her more in two texts than Eddie managed in a whole week. You see her selfies get a bit bolder. At first it’s cute. She’s shy, a bit embarrassed, but she sends that “accidental” cleavage pic and you feel both proud and a bit sick. Then the pictures get dirtier. The emojis change. The typing pauses get longer. The game really likes to make you stare at the screen waiting for three dots, wondering if she’s going to send something soft or something that will make you want to punch the wall and jerk off at the same time.

Sex scenes here are mostly in your head and on the phone screen, twisted together. When she’s playing with herself, you don’t just see her; you see the messages that pushed her there. Some random guy hyping her up, telling her how wet she must be, asking for “proof”, and she actually sends it. You get AI-style images that look like those edited photos you see on Telegram porn channels, slightly too clean, but the situation around them is messy as fuck. There’s cheating, voyeurism, corruption, all that good painful stuff. You read how she describes your failures in bed while you’re the one stuck watching and masturbating like some pathetic cuck who can’t even look away. The worst part is how normal it all feels. No magic, no mind control. Just money problems, stress, one dude with a working dick and another with a nice salary and a smooth tongue, and a woman who gets tired of waiting. The story doesn’t need big twists. It just pokes at those ugly relationship fears until they get horny, then keeps going a bit too far. You know it’s going to hurt. You still open the next chat. And the next picture. And the next.

You wake up beside her again, same as yesterday, same as the day before that - except she doesn’t remember your face. Not your name, not the way her legs wrapped around you last night, not the promises whispered against her ear. Every morning, she’s new. Blank. Soft. The game makes you feel like a bastard just for thinking about it, but then it tempts you harder - because who’s gonna stop you when she forgets every touch by sunrise? It’s dirty in that way that crawls under your skin and stays there, even when you pretend you’re just “testing different routes.” Sure. That’s what I told myself too.

Then her twin moves in, and things twist tighter. She looks at you with that same mouth, same body, but she remembers everything. There’s jealousy hiding under her polite smile. The kind that says she’s thought about you when she shouldn’t. Her hand brushes yours in the kitchen - accidentally, of course - and the screen flickers because the damn render bug still isn’t fixed. Doesn’t matter. You can almost feel her breath anyway. Later, when she knocks on your door at night, wearing nothing but guilt and a thin shirt, you’ll swear the devs coded temptation into the mouse cursor itself.

The corruption route hits hardest. Not because it’s the dirtiest (though, yeah, it is), but because it tricks you into believing you’re still the good guy. You watch her sister sneak into your bed, watch the girlfriend forget, watch yourself become someone you don’t recognize. There’s voyeurism baked right into the story structure - half the time you’re spying on your own conscience. The sex scenes aren’t shy: lips, fingers, wet sounds, the whole mess of it. Yet somehow it’s the morning after that feels filthiest, when she smiles at you like a stranger again. The game doesn’t punish you for cheating - it lets you drown in it. And maybe that’s worse.

The story drops you right into a filthy mix of business, lust, and betrayal. You play this polished guy with a perfect life - high-rise view, loyal girl, kisses on the neck before work - but everything starts to rot the second your boss leans close with that “favor.” It starts simple, like anyone could talk their way out of it, but it’s the kind of request that turns into a trap. One look, one taste of what’s behind his smug smile and you start losing your grip. It’s not just about sex here, though there’s a lot of it - slow teasing, the kind that makes your pulse skip, then full-on raw scenes where control just dies. You feel the corruption crawl under your skin, and somehow you like it. The animations hit hard, the moans sound too real, and every little gesture feels like someone’s watching. Maybe they are, considering the voyeur angle that sneaks in halfway when you least expect it.

What’s strange is how the humor fucks with all the tension. There are moments you laugh right before something really depraved happens - like the devs know exactly how uncomfortable you’re getting. One girl cracks a joke mid-blowjob, and instead of killing the scene, it makes it hotter, nastier. The writing isn’t clean; it’s dirty and uneven, perfect for the kind of story it tells. You slip from one fantasy to another - cheating, swinging, the occasional slap across bare skin - and it never feels clean. The filth is part of the intimacy; the romance still breathes through it. And maybe that’s what makes this thing addictive. It’s not about collecting scenes or chasing endings, it’s about watching the main guy ruin himself piece by piece and pretending you’re not enjoying it too much. The way some of those girls look at him, you know they’re not innocent either. You might judge them, or maybe you’ll just keep watching, hand resting where it shouldn’t be.