This one hits like some trashy fashion magazine fantasy where everybody forgot pants and basic morals, in a good way. You start as this regular dude who suddenly gets dragged into the DeLuca mafia mess, and the whole vibe is like “what if a crime family hired a himbo intern and all the women came straight out from a horny Pinterest board”. Outfits are wild. The older women especially have that rich, dangerous MILF energy, hips and ass doing 90% of the talking, tops that pretend to be classy but the buttons look one sneeze away from exploding. I kept pausing scenes just to stare at the clothes and thinking, ok, whoever designed these had a very specific kink folder on their desktop. Some of the dresses are useless for actual movement but perfect for pressing a big soft ass into the camera and teasing the hell out of you. Even the casual wear looks like “I only own clothes that make people want to grab me”.

The game makes you click around like a point & click from those old Flash days, but now everything is dripping with sex jokes, mafia tension and “please don’t catch me spying on that shower”. There was this moment where I was just doing some normal job for the family, then accidentally ended up watching one of the girls bend over and the camera just stays on her butt way too long. No one says anything, but the game knows. It leans into the voyeur stuff so hard: half-open doors, someone changing in the next room, your hand kind of “slipping” when you touch, groping that starts as “oops” and turns into “yeah you meant that”. And still it keeps cracking jokes. One second you’re laughing at some stupid mafia banter, the next second the scene goes fully horny and your only thought is “yeah, I’d risk getting shot for this”. Sometimes the violence pops up with zero warning, like a reminder that these pretty people actually kill for a living, which weirdly makes the romance hits harder. You flirt, you date, you cheat, you pretend you’re a good guy while very clearly not being one, and it never apologizes for that.

The animations are where the outfits really earn their paycheck. When a character leans in, the way fabric slides over curves is almost more erotic than the actual nudity. Tight skirts ride up just enough when they sit, stockings bite into soft thighs, a blouse pulls across big tits and you can almost feel the strain on each little button. Some scenes go from sweet to filthy so fast it’s like whiplash: a romantic chat, a playful tease, then suddenly her ass is pressed against you and your hands are “helping” her keep balance. There’s this one sequence where you’re supposed to be on a serious mafia job, but your brain is just locked on the sway of a certain MILF’s hips in this skin-tight dress that no HR department would ever allow. I actually wish there was an outfit gallery just to rotate them around and zoom in like a total creep, but I know it’s never gonna happen and that’s fine, I’ll live. The game keeps mixing humor, tension and raw sex in a way that feels messy, unfiltered, and kinda hot as hell. Nothing feels “safe for work”, even when everyone is still dressed. It’s like being trapped inside a fashion show hosted in a mob mansion where every look says the same thing: you’re in danger, but you really, really want to stay.

It’s weird, the way *A Fortnight at Frenni Fazclaire’s 2* plays with tone - like, one moment it’s soft lighting and syrupy teasing from an animatronic wolf with silicone lips that catch the club’s pink glow just right, and the next second you’re hearing metal sc*** in the next room like something mechanical trying to breathe. I couldn’t decide if I was turned on or spooked half the time, which maybe is the point. The writing leans into that uncanny space where synthetic skin meets real loneliness, though sometimes it feels too self-aware about being a parody. It’s as if it winks so much it forgets to blink. Still, when Mia Mangle leans across the security desk and says things she shouldn’t know - stuff only the player would think - it hits that strange nerve of digital intimacy that good adult games sometimes stumble into by accident.

The furries here aren’t played for cheap fetish fuel (okay, not *just* that). There’s tension in every movement, more like stage performers improvising after hours than machines following code. I kept thinking about Nabokov because yeah, it’s sexy, but it’s also about control and play and being observed while pretending not to care. And then there’s the mobile version, where tapping through dialogue feels like petting something alive that pretends to glitch. Sometimes choices freeze for no reason - probably a bug - but it almost fits the mood: desire interrupted by static. The horror bits creep slow; shadows twitch behind velvet curtains even during explicit scenes, and the sound design hums under your skin like anxiety that smells faintly of perfume.

Honestly, the worst part is the damn loading screen image - I hate that smug smile they gave Aurora. Every time she flickers in before the menu loads, I kinda want her to malfunction just to break the eye contact. But when she starts singing that low note (yeah, she sings), everything stutters into this mix of comedy and obscene tenderness. Maybe I imagined that part. Or maybe the game wanted me to. Hard to tell where the line’s supposed to be anymore.

This chat-format visual novel hits different when you're watching your fiancée get her world rocked through emoji reactions and text bubbles. Oscar's stuck at home after some accident - honestly, the setup doesn't matter much because what follows is pure psychological fuckery mixed with actual fucking. You've got this weird psychic connection with Lucy where you feel everything she's feeling, which sounds romantic until Logan shows up and starts making her feel things that'll make your phone screen fog up.

The whole thing plays out like you're reading someone else's sexts, except you're the poor bastard whose girl is sending them. Lucy starts innocent enough - "miss you babe" type messages - but Logan's got that smooth operator energy that turns sweet girlfriends into cock-hungry rebels. Watching her transformation through chat logs is weirdly addictive. One day she's asking about dinner plans, next she's describing how wet she got during "study sessions." The corruption arc moves at breakneck speed, which honestly feels more realistic than these slow-burn games that take forever to get anywhere interesting. Though sometimes I wish the pacing slowed down just so I could savor the psychological torment longer.

What really gets under your skin is the choice system - you can play Oscar as the understanding boyfriend type or go full jealous psycho mode. Neither path feels particularly satisfying because you're fundamentally powerless, just reacting to Lucy's increasingly bold adventures. The voyeuristic elements work better than expected since you're experiencing everything secondhand through texts and calls. When Lucy starts sending photos... well, let's just say the chat format doesn't limit the visual storytelling. Multiple endings give you different flavors of heartbreak or acceptance, depending on how much dignity you're willing to sacrifice. It's messy, uncomfortable, and exactly the kind of emotional masochism that makes NTR content so addictive.

You start as this guy who was living the dream on the court, and then your body just says “fuck you” and everything crashes. No more crowds, no more glory, just painkillers, physio, and a silence that feels way too loud. I liked how the game makes you sit with that for a bit. You’re not some magic gigachad from second one. You limp, you doubt yourself, you stare at your own reflection like “what now, idiot?”. And then the old college calls, throws you a lifeline in the shape of a girls’ basketball team that needs a coach, and suddenly that empty space in your life gets filled with sweat, tight uniforms, and way too many questionable thoughts during practice.

The mood shifts fast once you meet the team. They’re all in these fitted sport uniforms that hug every line, stretching over wet skin in the locker room, shorts riding up when they run drills. The game takes its time with the locker room scenes, the way water slides down their thighs in the showers, the way a simple stretch turns into your eyes getting stuck on bouncing tits and exposed underwear. It starts kind of innocent, like “you’re their mentor, be professional”, and then there’s this one late practice where you’re doing one-on-one training, her breathing all heavy, sweat shining on her abs, and she says she wants a “special reward” if she hits enough free throws. Suddenly she’s on her knees in the empty gym, lights low, giving you messy deep oral right there on the polished floor, her ponytail brushing your thigh while her uniform top is pushed up, nipples hard. The animation on her lips sliding down your shaft is surprisingly detailed, the little gag, the string of spit when she pulls away to catch her breath. You’re supposed to be correcting her form, and instead she’s stroking you with one hand, still gripping the ball with the other like it’s some dirty joke only you two understand. When you finally push her down on the bench and fuck her raw, legs spread, sneakers still on, the creampie shot is thick and slow, dripping out while she’s trying not to moan too loud in case someone walks in.

And then the story decides that’s not enough chaos and drops your ex back into the city. The one you knocked up during that “break” with your wife that was definitely not a real break. She shows up like a bomb. She’s softer than the sporty girls, more curves, more emotional landmine. There’s this scene where you meet her in some bland cafe, and under the table she starts rubbing your thigh like nothing happened, like she didn’t drag a whole kid-shaped problem into your life. Later on, at her place, it’s a totally different vibe from the gym sex. Lights low, slow romance mixed with guilt, handjob on the couch while the TV plays some random bullshit, her thumb teasing your tip while she looks you right in the eye and asks if you ever think about “that night”. You end up fucking her proper, bare, sinking into that familiar pussy, and it’s not just lust, it’s this heavy, dangerous comfort. The game leans into the wrongness of it without apologizing. There’s vaginal, there’s sloppy oral, there’s her riding you until your cum leaks out of her and stains the sheets, and for a moment it almost feels wholesome which makes it worse. Then next day you’re back in the gym with a cute rookie stretching in front of you, shorts sliding up her ass, and your phone buzzing with your ex’s messages, and you realize this guy’s life is one long fast break straight into a wall. I kinda loved it. I kinda hated everyone. I clicked “next” anyway.