Los Angeles 2042 in this game feels like someone took Blade Runner, poured cheap whiskey on it and then asked “ok but where is the pussy.” Neon everywhere, holo ads with bouncing tits, high-tech toys, and then you walking around as this burned out corporate merc who is way too good at hurting people and way too bad at staying out of other people’s beds. You’re supposed to find this girl who suddenly matters to literally everyone in the city, but of course it never stays just “find and deliver.” One moment you’re sneaking through some high-rise owned by a corp that treats human lives like printer ink, next moment you’re balls deep in a milf who’s been playing power games longer than you’ve been alive. And the game doesn’t even pretend it’s classy about it. There’s face fucking, anal, tits riding your cock, cum all over everything. Animated scenes, not those lazy slideshow things. You actually watch her ass bounce while you rail her against some cold futuristic window with the skyline behind her. Very tasteful. And by tasteful I mean zero taste, just pure filth.

What I liked is how it mixes that heavy sci-fi mood with straight up horny trash. You’ve got corporate wars, merc squads, people getting shot in the head at close range with blood painting the walls. Then, ten minutes later, you’re pinning some virgin hacker girl against a desk, pushing her legs open while she’s still pretending she only needs you for “protection.” She says she’s never done it, your character basically goes “yeah sure” and then you see how tight she grabs you, how her body shakes when you slide in slowly the first time, and you kinda realize she really was a virgin and you just wrecked her. There are moments where the domination vibe is heavy too. Hand on throat, ass up, spanking her till her cheeks are red, then slipping a thumb inside to watch her squirm, then full on anal with her face buried in the pillow. Sometimes it’s romantic, you actually get those quiet scenes after the chaos, naked bodies tangled in a shitty apartment with neon bleeding through the blinds, soft kisses, slow vaginal creampie where she pulls you deeper with her legs wrapped around your waist. Next scene you’re watching two people fuck from the shadows, full voyeur creep mode, zooming in on her big ass bouncing on top of a futa whose cock is way too big to be legal, and you just stand there like “yeah, this is fine.” I still hate how one character constantly takes her clothes off by stripping super slowly like she’s on some cheap cam site, while another girl will just dump her top in half a second and shove your face in her huge tits, but maybe that’s part of the charm, this messy mix of romance, brutality and absolute porn brain, all wrapped in neon and broken dreams.

Rockford is one of those MCs who looks like he has his whole shit together on paper, but you can tell the guy is emotionally scuffed as hell. You play him as this hotshot prosecutor who can ruin a gangster’s month with one closing argument, then go home, stare at his phone, and jerk off in the shower instead of actually calling any of the girls who obviously want his dick. It’s kind of funny at first, then it gets weirdly hot when you see how all that control he uses in court starts leaking into the bedroom. The first time he finally gives in and lets a girl go down on him, that scene feels earned. You were sitting through all the courtroom drama, all the macho “justice system” talk, then suddenly he is pinned to a couch while a woman who knows him way too well is on her knees, drool stringing off his shaft, and he’s trying not to make noise because he “doesn’t lose control.” Sure, man. Until she starts stroking him with both hands, twisting just a bit, and you watch his whole persona crack. That slow build is the whole thing here: he tries to stay professional, then the story keeps pushing him next to women who just do not give a fuck about his emotional walls and keep rubbing against them. And him. Literally.

The four main women are where most people are going to lock in. The homicide detective is the classic “we fucked once, never talked about it, still got the chemistry” situation. She’ll be grilling him about a murder, then there’s this moment where her shirt is unbuttoned a little too low, he glances, she notices, and the tension just snaps. There is this sex scene in her apartment, half empty pizza box on the table, TV muted, where she climbs on top still half dressed, riding him with slow, grinding hips while she keeps talking about the case in this low voice. Then she stops mid-sentence when he thrusts up hard and you see her lose the thread. Stuff like that hits way harder than the usual “oh no we tripped and now we’re naked.” The colleague from the office is more of that “I’ve known you since we were kids, I know exactly how to break you” energy. When she finally gives him a handjob in his office, using the desk like it’s just another tool, there’s this mix of affection and just straight-up filth. She spits in her hand, grins at him, and even while she’s pumping him fast, playing with his balls under the table, she’s still talking shop. And when he explodes all over her fingers and her blouse, she just laughs and licks him off her knuckles like it’s no big deal. The romance part sneaks up on you, especially with the sweet teacher girl. First she looks like the “wholesome route,” but then you get her alone, lights off, her panties already damp because she’s been thinking about his voice from court. The blowjob she gives in the car is ridiculous, head bobbing while rain hits the windshield, her tits pressed against the gear shift. She lets him cum in her mouth, swallows without making a show out of it, then kisses him with that faint taste still there. And yeah, eventually he stops pulling out and starts filling girls up, those creampie shots hit hard, especially when one of them hooks her legs behind his back and says “don’t you dare.” The violence on the case side gets rough sometimes, bodies and blood and ugly motives, but that nasty part of the world makes the sex feel more raw, like everyone is clinging to each other because nothing is safe. It plays smooth on phone too, so you’re just there on the couch, thumb tapping through murder files one second, then watching a big-titted woman ride Rockford until her thighs shake and his cum slowly leaks out of her after he pulls out. Not the most polished thing in the universe, some faces go a bit stiff in odd angles and there is one scene where the lighting just decides to be awkward for no reason, but when the MC is buried between a woman’s legs, licking her slow while she fists his hair and gasps his name, you kind of forget all that. Or you remember and just keep going anyway.

Game drops you in the shoes of this worn out crypto trader guy who honestly feels a bit like that dude who kept refreshing Binance while watching his life burn. You’re not some jacked hentai protagonist, just a dude who peaked during the meme coin bull run and then everything went to shit. Then Megan shows up, small-time actress, broke, stressed, but still trying to smile like she’s in some cheap Netflix drama that got cancelled mid-season. It sounds cheesy, but the game kind of leans into that and then spits on it, in a good way. One moment you’re talking about rent and auditions and gas fees, next moment she’s in your lap teasing you through your pants, acting like it’s nothing, and your brain goes completely blank. The wild part is how normal it feels before it gets dirty. Like, she’s scrolling TikTok on your phone, roasting your playlist, and then casually asks if you’re “always this hard when helping a girl with her portfolio” while her hand is already inside your boxers. That switch from “aw, she’s struggling actress” to “oh, she’s got your cock in her hand” is stupidly good.

The erotic stuff itself hits that mix of soft and filthy that most games completely fuck up. At first there is all this slow burn teasing. Megan wearing this oversized shirt, no pants, walking around your place like she owns it, brushing her tits against your arm “by accident”, stretching on the couch so her ass cheeks basically eat the panties. Then when things start, they really start. Handjobs with her watching your face more than your dick, little thumb strokes that make it feel personal, not like porn autopilot. Titfucks where her boobs are big, heavy, actually moving, not those stiff balloon things. Footjob scenes that are way more intimate than they should be, like she traps you with her heels on your chest, grinning, toes wrapped around the tip while she asks you why you’re breathing so hard. And yeah, normal stuff too: oral where she slobbers and gags, deep kisses that feel almost too romantic for a game with creampies and anal, her riding you with that “I pretend this is just to blow off stress” face while clearly catching feelings. Sometimes it even gets messy, like group scenes where you suddenly realize you might not be the only guy in her life, and that slightly ugly, jealous knot in your stomach makes the orgasm hit harder. There are routes where she chooses you, routes where she kind of doesn’t, endings where you’re filling her up like she’s your whole world, and others where you’re left wondering if you were just a step on her way up. It’s weirdly honest about romance and cheating and how sex can be both healing and fucked up. Porn game, yes. But also that thing where, after finishing inside her for the third time in one night, you catch yourself staring at her asleep on your chest and thinking, “Yeah, this is going to end badly,” and still not wanting it to stop.

Star Periphery feels like someone smashed a lewd dating sim into a busted space freighter and just left the whole mess running. You’re this skinny space nobody with more hormones than sense, tossed into a universe where every second woman has a thick cock, big tits, a mean streak, or all three, and half the time you’re just trying not to stare while your eyes are glued to their asses anyway. It starts pretty simple, wandering around this rusty station full of flickering neon and suspicious stains, but it sneaks up on you. One moment you’re just checking a cargo manifest, next moment a smug futa customs officer has you pressed to a wall, one gloved hand casually groping your ass while she pretends to be “searching for contraband.” That scene sold me, honestly. The way she keeps her voice calm and bored while you’re clearly leaking through your panties, teasing you with slow strokes over the fabric, then just walks away like nothing happened. Loved it. Actually I hated it because I had to reload after choosing the coward dialog and missing half the scene, but that’s another thing.

The voyeur stuff is weirdly strong here. There’s this bit where you end up stuck in a crappy hostel pod, thin bulkhead, cheap audio insulation, and you can hear a monster girl mechanic in the next room railing some poor femboy trainee. You only see flashes through a broken panel and some flickering HUD readout, but you hear everything. Wet slaps, his breathy little whines, her low voice telling him to “push back more, toy” while she spanks his ass red. No explicit camera angle, no heroic close-up of internal cumshots, just your imagination and some nasty audio. It feels more filthy than most straight up porn scenes. Then later the game turns around and throws full-on internal views at you, showing a massive futa shaft stretching your virgin ass open while some clinical scanner overlays data on muscle tension and depth. It’s kind of hot, kind of medical, kind of fucked. In a good way. Maybe. I’m still not sure. Anyway, the point is, it does both subtle and really not subtle, and sometimes in the same arc, which is confusing and nice.

What I liked most is how the romance sneaks into all the filth. There’s this MILF captain, big ass, heavy tits, looks like she bench presses starship engines for fun. At first she treats you like a disposable cabin boy, orders you to your knees for a “stress relief” handjob after a bad run, uses your mouth while checking navigation on her tablet like you’re just another system. The first time she titfucks you, she doesn’t even look down, just talks about fuel prices while your cock is sliding between her slick cleavage and you try not to cum too fast or she’ll mock you. Then hours later she quietly asks if you want to sleep in her bunk instead of the cold cargo bay, spoons you from behind, hard cock pressed between your cheeks, no sex at all, just this heavy warmth and her arm over your waist. It feels almost wholesome, then she wakes you up in the morning by grinding against your ass and whispering “open up for your captain” and you remember this is still a dirty game about turning a shy guy into a proper slutty trap. Or not, depending on choices. Sometimes you can dodge the sissification paths completely and stay a more standard sub guy, and sometimes you walk straight into a shop that sells sex toys and walk out in a thong, collar, stockings and a remote vibrator inside you because a smug futa tech-girl convinced you it improves your “crew performance.” I swear I was trying to play it cool and avoid that content, then I clicked one flirt option in a bar and suddenly I’m kneeling while she adjusts my stockings and spanks me for fidgeting. It’s messy, half-polite, half-degrading, and I kept clicking anyway.