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.

College spits you back out, you drag your suitcase up the old familiar stairs, and the first thing that hits you is that weird mix of nostalgia and horny frustration. You’re supposed to be the “grown up” version of yourself now, but the house still smells like coffee, furniture polish and that floral perfume your grandma’s friend wears. She’s the one waiting inside. Not some generic landlady with rented room rules, but this older woman who clearly remembers you as “such a cute kid” and now can’t stop staring at the outline in your jeans when you stretch. The game leans hard into that shift, that strange moment where polite family-adjacent small talk slowly, painfully tilts into something that should probably be illegal in five different ways. It does not rush. It pokes at you. Constantly. Morning wood scenes, shower doors that never really close, “accidental” brushing of her tits against your back when she squeezes behind you in the tiny kitchen. You’re not being told “this is a porn game, go click sex.” You’re stuck in that half-realistic, half-fantasy zone where you creep around the hallway at night, phone screen low, pretending you’re going to the bathroom while you secretly hope to catch her bent over the washing machine again.

What hits hardest is how much of the actual play is just you existing in this cramped domestic space with people who all want something from you. Some want comfort, some want cock, some pretend they don’t want either. You spend a lot of time in small interactions: a hand on your thigh lingering just a bit too long during a movie, toes sliding up your calf under the table, a “help me with this zipper” that clearly doesn’t need help. One scene that stuck with me was when you’re on the couch with her, late, both tipsy, and she falls asleep half on your lap. Your hand ends up resting on her ass almost by accident. You can pull away like a good little boy, or you can let your fingers sink in a bit, feel that heavy warmth, smell her skin. If you push your luck she doesn’t jump, she sighs, like she’s been waiting for this exact mistake. It’s slow burn, but when it finally snaps, the game is not shy. You go from stolen glances to her on her knees, spit on your cock, mumbling how long she waited to taste you. There’s worship here, a lot of it. Your body is treated like a toy and a shrine at the same time: cock kissing, balls cradled, her laughing while she edges you with lazy strokes and then scolding you for almost cumming on her face without permission. At some point you realize half the house has their own angle on you, from the sweet virgin type who just wants cuddles and suddenly finds herself riding you until she squirts on your stomach, to the pushy one who uses your face like a seat and then pretends it never happened at breakfast. There is some goofy stuff too, like a cosplay night that starts as a silly joke and ends with you in handcuffs, her in a way-too-tight outfit, using a toy on herself while you’re forced to watch until she lets you join. The writing swings between affectionate and filthy in a way that feels messy, a bit clumsy, but honest. Sometimes the pacing drags and you’ll click through way too many “good morning” scenes for one butt squeeze, and a couple of side characters feel like they exist only to feed your dick without much personality. But then there is this tiny quiet moment where one of them curls up against your chest after a crazy group scene, tracing circles on your skin, whispering that she hopes you don’t leave again, and you realize the game is not only about fucking every hole in reach. It pretends to be just cheap smut, then throws in pregnancy talks, jealousy, cheating, a weirdly wholesome cuddle after you have her bent over the sink for anal. It’s messy, horny, a bit wrong, and strangely cozy in a way that will probably say something about your brain you didn’t want to know.