Phone Story looks harmless when it loads, like one of those cheap mobile chat sims you open on Chrome while pretending to check Slack. It is not harmless. It is that slow, nasty itch in the back of your head if you like watching “what if my girl had someone else in her DMs” kind of stuff. You play the husband who goes away, but honestly the main character is Lisa’s damn phone. Half the game is you reading her messages and deciding how much rope you want to give her, then pulling it back too late. You don’t click through some porn slideshow and right into “she’s on a couch with a giant dick in her.” The game takes its time. First it’s just flirty texts, a photo with “is this too much?” kind of teasing, her asking your opinion, your “friend” dropping those little comments that sound harmless until you reread them in incognito at work and realize you’re basically writing your own cuck script.

The pacing is weirdly strong for a messy hentai VN. Sometimes one choice just makes her send a slightly spicier selfie, sometimes it jumps right into a scene where she’s on video call, touching herself, trying to convince you it’s “for you” while that friend’s name keeps popping at the top of the screen. Classic anime-wife look, soft face, kinda innocent expression, but you can watch the corruption slide in bit by bit. She starts dressing more revealing, talking about “just hanging out” with him, a little wine, harmless cuddling, totally not cheating, right? Sure. Then you get those AI-looking CGs where she’s on her knees, lips glossy, your friend’s bbc in front of her mouth, and she’s still typing some sweet romantic bullshit to you with the other hand. The game loves making you stare at chat bubbles while she’s getting filled somewhere offscreen or in a small mirrored reflection. Proper voyeurism energy. The actual sex scenes hit all the usual spots, vaginal, anal, her pinned to a table, riding, messy facials, the whole thing, but the part that sticks is when she looks happy and guilty at the same time and you know it’s half for you and half for herself. Sometimes the writing slips and a line sounds like it came out of Google Translate, but honestly that kinda fits the vibe. On Android Chrome the text boxes get too big and cover half the art, which annoys the hell out of me, and if you tap too fast you skip a good line and there’s no quick log button right in your face, you have to dig for it. Also one route feels like it jumps from “maybe I’ll flirt” to “raw creampie from your buddy” in like two clicks, like the dev got horny and forgot the slow burn. Still, if you’re into netorare or softer netorase stuff, that moment when you tell her “yeah, explore a bit, just don’t forget me” and later you’re literally watching her try anal for the first time with someone else because you told her it’s fine, that hits way harder than it has any right to. And yeah, sometimes you tell her to stay faithful and the game almost seems annoyed, like “are you sure you don’t want to watch?” but then it gives you these surprisingly sweet romantic scenes where she masturbates with the phone propped up, moaning your name while she’s already mentally halfway to the neighbor’s bedroom. Not subtle at all, but that’s kind of the point.

Hailey’s story hits that weird spot between hot and kind of painful in the chest, and I liked that more than I want to admit. You start as this regular guy who clearly loves his wife, and she’s exactly that fantasy mix of cute and dangerous: big soft tits under casual clothes, ass that fills the whole screen when she bends even just a little, smile that makes you think “yeah, she knows what she’s doing”. At first it feels innocent, just playful teasing in the kitchen, her brushing past you so her boobs press into your arm, little flashes of panties when she stretches on the couch. The kind of stuff where you know she’s doing it on purpose, but she pretends she’s not. Meanwhile she keeps talking about this coworker, like he’s “just helping with a project”, and your guy is trying so hard to act chill while you, the player, are already imagining him rail her against the office desk. The game knows you’re thinking that and keeps poking the thought until it hurts.

What I didn’t expect was how much time you actually spend alone with the main guy’s dick in his hand. Not in a boring way. More like he’s spiraling. You get home, she’s late again, phone face down, new text sound, and suddenly you’re in the bathroom, jerking off to the idea of your own wife sending nudes to another man. Masturbation scenes feel sweaty and pathetic and still insanely hot. One time he’s stroking while listening through the bedroom door because she’s “just changing clothes” after coming back from drinks, and the game gives you this small pause where you think you hear another voice. Might be nothing. Might be him in your house. The art is simple 2D but the body language sells it: her flushed cheeks when she lies, that slightly different way she sits on the bed, legs a bit too open, like she’s used to being watched now. Sometimes she flashes you her bra and laughs in that “you’re safe, he’s not” kind of way, which somehow hurts more than if she just said she was cheating. The corruption is slow, but you feel every small step. You let her go out in that tight dress you know isn’t for you, you don’t say anything when she “forgets” panties, you pick the softer dialogue options because you’re scared to lose her, and that just opens the door wider for this coworker to fuck his way into your life. It’s honestly a bit depressing, but then she bends over to get something from the fridge, her huge ass filling the screen, and your brain just shuts up and says: yeah, ok, ruin my life again.

This one feels like someone mashed together a horny isekai, a scuffed VR chatroom and a bad idea after too many Red Bulls, then accidentally made it kind of interesting. You start as this regular student guy who is not actually regular at all, because in the VR game world he can tweak his body and everyone else’s like a character editor that got drunk. One moment you are sitting in your boring room, next moment you are staring at a girl with a skirt way too short to be allowed in any real school, big tits bouncing like the dev never heard of bras, and your only real problem is deciding if you want to be a decent human or a complete perv. I tried to be “good” at first, clicked all the nice options, and the game basically laughed at me and kept dangling ass shots in my face. It’s kind of unfair. I liked it.

The fantasy part kicks in fast once you start playing with the VR rules: races you swap into, bodies you transform, the whole “what if I wasn’t stuck in this average body” thing. You can go from the normal student body to some ripped guy with a monster cock, or even slide into a female avatar and suddenly every look from NPCs hits different. There is this moment where you log into a new zone and your female form is walking through a crowd of orc-looking dudes and they stare at your huge ass in a way that made me feel weirdly targeted. Not a complaint. Or it is. Hard to say. Also, the game keeps teasing you with that line between “this is just a virtual girl” and “wait, that’s actually my classmate behind the avatar” and once that clicks, every blowjob scene becomes twice as dirty. I had one scene where I realized halfway through that the toon on her knees drooling on my dick was someone in the “real” world that my character actually knows, and it made the whole thing way more fucked up than the usual porn game loop. The incest angle shows up like a car crash too. No build up, no slow burn. One second you are exploring, next second you are in a room with a family member whose avatar clearly has sliders maxed on tits and ass, and the game almost dares you to press the wrong option.

What really got me was how the netorare stuff sneaks in while you are distracted by all the other porn. You are busy enjoying some oral in a dark alley with a fantasy milf who lets you grab her big ass with both hands, then later you find out she also plays with a different guy’s character and suddenly there are scenes where you are stuck watching your girl get pounded by some taller, darker avatar with stats clearly better than yours. The game lets you choose if you want to join, stop it, or just watch, and I hate how often I picked “watch” just to see where the dev takes it. There is this brutal little school corridor scene where your supposed partner is pushed up against a wall in a schoolgirl uniform, skirt flipped, panties around one ankle, getting railed by some other player while your POV character stands there useless and hard, and it hits different because you already fucked her in another route. Or maybe it doesn’t, I don’t know, I’m not your therapist. The interracial stuff kind of blends with the fantasy races, so sometimes you are not sure if you are banging a dark-skinned elf, a real-world black guy’s avatar, or both. The line is thin, and the story likes to step over it, then pretend nothing happened. I wish the VR tech inside the story was explained less, honestly, the attempts at logic just get in the way of the next time someone drops to their knees and takes a thick cock down their throat like it’s no big deal. But here I am, still clicking “next” like an idiot, because every time I think I’ve seen all the kinks, it goes, “what if we twist this relationship one more time” and suddenly that same girl moaning under you is someone you probably shouldn’t be touching at all.

You’re stuck in a dusty foreign base with a shitty Wi‑Fi signal and a gun that feels lighter than your stomach, and all you really have is your phone and a redhead you’re scared to lose. That’s basically the heartbeat of this thing. You’re the soldier, she’s Grace, making coffees for random assholes while you count the days, and the game never lets you forget that there’s an entire ocean between you when the worst possible guy walks into her cafe. Not a thug, not some cringe teen. A smooth, confident photographer who actually listens to her, calls her beautiful without stuttering, and knows exactly where to put his hands on a woman’s waist for “just the right pose.” It hits way harder than some cartoon villain, because he acts normal. Too normal.

The way it starts is almost boring in a good way. Your first calls with Grace are sweet, a little awkward. You talk about missing her, she tells you about rude customers, tips, her stupid co-worker, what she wore to work. And then she casually mentions “this photographer guy” who said she has a good face for his next project. Nothing dramatic. It just sits in your head. Later you unlock options during calls: push her to chase the opportunity, or brush it off, or sound jealous without admitting it. The game never slaps you with morality. You just feel it when she texts you a selfie from the shoot, wearing a dress that hugs her in all the places you remember touching, and you know some other man asked her to tilt her hips like that. The 3D scenes are clean and very physical: the way her bra strap slides down her pale shoulder, the shine on her lips from cheap cafe gloss, the slightly nervous way she holds her own elbow at first. Then in later shoots she doesn’t do that anymore. That tiny change hit me harder than the first kiss scene.

Sex here is not just porn filler. Early on, you get those needy calls at night, where she whispers your name in bed, fingers moving under the sheets, and you can guide how dirty the talk gets. If you encourage her to explore, she gets bolder, sending pics from the bathroom, pushing her panties aside to show just the wet line between her thighs, asking if you still want her even if other men look at her. If you give her strict “no flirting, no photos” vibes, the tension twists into something rougher later. There’s a run where she shows up at the photographer’s studio in a loose shirt and no bra, nipples poking through when the room gets cold, and you can practically feel the moment she stops thinking about you and starts thinking about how it feels when he stands behind her, guiding her hands, telling her to “trust the process” while his fingers spread her legs for a more “intimate composition.” It’s corruption, but not fast; it’s this slow slide where every choice you made before suddenly matters while she’s on that couch, thighs open, breathing hard, trying to convince herself it’s still “just art” even as his tongue is on her and her phone with your unread message is lighting up on the table behind her.

And the worst part? Half the time, when she calls you after, her voice is soft, almost more loving, because the guilt makes her clingier. So you’re there on a crackly line saying you can’t wait to fuck her brains out when you get home, imagining her wet and untouched, and the game zooms on those faint red marks on her inner thighs from someone else’s grip. No dramatic music. Just that quiet “I miss you” in your ear while she’s still sore from another man.