Confessions in the Dark feels like reading that one horny late night Discord confession that got way too real and then somehow turned into a whole story. You’re the husband here, not some faceless blank guy, with this dirty little obsession crawling in your head: you want to see your own wife get fucked by someone else. Not just “oh haha, fantasy,” but that real thing where your brain is screaming no and your dick is saying yes, louder. The game doesn’t rush you into gangbang fireworks in the first click. It kind of lets the idea rot and bloom in your head at the same time, like when you rewatch that one Pornhub video you swear you’re not into, then keep searching the same tags anyway. It’s a kinetic novel, so you’re not juggling stats or grinding money on some fake job, just following this guy’s spiral while the story pokes your weak spots. The AI CGs are weirdly perfect for this too, because half of them look like those cursed but hot pics you save from Twitter and never admit. His wife has these massive tits that just sit there in every scene like a problem, always framed too nicely, like the game is saying “you sure you wanna share this?” and you already know the answer is yes and no.

The hotter part for me isn’t when she’s actually getting fucked, it’s the build-up. Those tiny moments where they talk about it like it’s just some “theoretical” fantasy while both of them are obviously dripping inside. She starts teasing with texts, with outfits you know aren’t just for you, late-night chats that maybe go too long with some “friend,” and the story pretends “it’s just exploring” at first. At one point he’s lying in bed doomscrolling Pornhub and Reddit, looking at couples who actually do it, and you can almost smell that mix of guilt and raw curiosity. It felt way too real. Then later there’s this scene where she comes home, perfume heavier than usual, lipstick a little fucked up, and nothing explicit is said, just this weird silence between them while he tries to act normal. That gap is nastier than any creampie shot, and yeah those are here too, very in your face, but the real corruption is between their words. One moment he’s proud of her for “being open” and the next second he’s jerking off in the bathroom, half crying, half moaning, replaying the mental image of another guy pushing into her. The game calls it romance sometimes, which is almost funny, because it is romantic, in this fucked up way where love and jealousy and cheating get mixed together like some cheap cocktail that still gets you drunk. I caught myself rooting for him to hurt and to enjoy it at the same time. It feels less like a power fantasy and more like letting a fantasy chew on you until you don’t know if you want to close your eyes or watch every single thrust going into your wife’s soaked pussy, dripping out on someone else’s cock while you sit in the dark and pretend you’re totally fine with it.

Kai thinks he’s getting a lazy sexed-up vacation on a sunny island with his hot girlfriend, his smug best bro, and the girl who looks like she bites. That’s the vibe at first. Sun, cocktails, tits in tight bikinis, asses sliding over pool chairs, couples pretending they’re here to “relax” while they’re actually scanning every bar stool for someone to fuck. The resort looks like one of those Instagram traps, all fake-perfect, AI-smoothed smiles on posters and hotel staff who are just a little too polished. You start noticing weird stuff. Who is watching who, who is flirting a bit too long with who, who is way too comfortable touching your girl’s thigh. The island feels like it has its own rules, like it was built for people who got bored with normal sex and started asking themselves “what if I watch her get pounded by someone else and like it?” and then never stopped asking. It’s not subtle. You’re sitting there as Kai, watching Yumi lean forward, big tits half out, laughing at Nick’s jokes while his hand is a bit too close to her knee, and the game just lets that moment stretch and breathe until you either click or snap.

The whole thing is about pressure. Slow, annoying, horny pressure. You pick small choices that look harmless, like “sure, go for a walk with him” or “yeah, another drink is fine”, and three scenes later you’re staring at an animated loop of your girl’s soft hand around someone else’s cock while Kai tries to act like he’s not dying inside. Or maybe he’s into it. That’s the dirty part. The island keeps nudging you to test where your jealousy ends and your curiosity starts. The sex scenes grow out of that. Handjobs by the pool while someone might walk in, a wet grind on a lounge chair with her huge ass bouncing under a thin towel, a mouthy girl who likes to lean in too close and whisper shit about what your brother used to do with his ex. The game really likes that family drama angle. Older brother shows up, got that “I’ve fucked more and care less” energy, and suddenly every stare between him and your girl feels like a threat. Or a promise. Sometimes the art looks almost too clean, like an AI took a vacation album and turned it into porn, sometimes a frame looks a bit off and that weirdness makes the scene feel more wrong, which honestly fits the NTR stuff. You will click a choice, watch a short animation loop of her tits bouncing on a guy’s lap, and feel that tiny stab in your gut that says “you could have stopped this five scenes ago.” And maybe you still keep going.

Half the time you’re trying to solve what the hell is off about this island, who is pulling the strings, why everyone talks about “opening up” like it’s some cult slogan. The other half you’re just watching people get drunk, grind on each other at some shitty beach party, swap partners in ways no one really wants to admit out loud. The game does that thing where it pretends you are in control while also setting you up for failure, like letting you choose to cling to Yumi, then slowly showing her eyes drift to someone stronger, rougher, more daring. You can lean into the cheating, treat it as an experiment, turn Kai into that guy who loves seeing his girl used, or you can fight it and get dragged anyway. Some routes feel almost romantic until suddenly they aren’t. One minute you’re walking through palm trees at sunset, big ass in front of you swaying in tight shorts, and the next minute she’s pushing your hand away because she’s “tired” after spending time with someone else. The island keeps smiling. The resort music keeps playing. And you’re there, clicking, watching, letting it hurt and turn you on, wondering how far you’ll go before you call it too much, then pushing one scene past that.

Distance porn hits different when the whole game is literally just you, her, and this shitty little chat window that somehow ruins your evening in the best way. You play the guy who went away for work, but honestly it feels more like you’re trapped inside a horny Telegram thread where every choice is either “be a sweet husband” or “poke at something you’re not sure you wanna see.” It starts innocent enough: she sends a pic of her dinner, you joke, you flirt, it’s soft, kind of warm. Then the game quietly starts asking, ok, what if she dressed a little more slutty for you, what if she told you about that coworker in more detail, what if you encouraged her just a little. The whole thing is text and photos, no map, no walking around, just you constantly picking replies and waiting for that next photo like a degenerate refreshing WhatsApp. When she sends the first slightly risky selfie, low light, maybe bra strap showing, your brain goes “oh yeah, it’s starting” and at the same time “shit, am I really gonna push this?” Of course you push it. That’s the point.

The chat is where the game feels nasty in a good way. Some answers are super tender, like you’re writing cringe romance from high school, and some are just filthy, like “yeah, show me more, but maybe let him see too.” And yes, I said “him.” There’s this slow poison in how the messages are written: her stories about daily life start including this guy more often, casual mentions, tiny hints, like when she says “he helped me carry something heavy” and you get the option to laugh it off, get jealous, or do the worst thing and say “you should tease him for me.” When you hit those provocative options, it’s not instant porn. It drips. A hand on a shoulder in a photo. A dress that’s too short “by accident.” A mirror selfie where you know someone else took the picture, but she pretends not to say it. The AI-like art has this glossy, slightly uncanny vibe that weirdly fits the mood, like these are pictures she shouldn’t be sending to anyone, not even her husband. Sometimes a hand looks a little off or the background is weird and you’re like “ok, that plant is illegal in three countries” but your eyes are glued on her nipples anyway, so whatever. I had one run where I tried to keep it pure, picking all the loving answers, being the perfect guy, and somehow it felt even dirtier when she still slipped you that suggestive pic “just for fun.” Not sure if the game is judging me or if I’m just projecting.

There is a point in the middle where the pacing kind of drags, like the game knows you’re here for the fucked-up voyeur stuff and still makes you talk about laundry and groceries for ten screens. It’s realistic, yeah, couples do that, but my dick didn’t care about the price of tomatoes. I almost closed the tab, but then she sends this grainy bathroom mirror shot, just a towel, wet hair, and a tiny reflection of someone behind the frosted glass. Might be nothing. Might not. And suddenly those boring messages feel like set-up. The writing leans hard on that “did she mean that?” feeling, especially when you choose the more permissive replies and she starts asking things like “you don’t mind if I dress sexy around others, right?” or “would it turn you on if someone looked at me the way you do?” You can steer it into straight-up cheating or keep it in that twisted fantasy zone where you’re the one pushing her to the edge while pretending your hands are clean. The game doesn’t pop up a disclaimer or scold you, it just gives you more pictures, more suggestive framing, more texts where she sounds confused and horny and a little too excited to share details. Porn wise, it gets explicit, no teasing fade-outs: tits, pussy, cum, awkward angles like she really snapped them in a hurry. Some scenes feel like they were made to be screenshotted and saved in a hidden folder, others look messy in a surprisingly honest way, like drunk sexting that went too far. By the time another man’s presence in those photos stops being just “maybe” and turns into “ok, that’s his hand for sure,” you’re not even shocked, you’re just scrolling, choosing answers, and quietly asking yourself when exactly you lost control. You probably never had it.

Your life should have been boring as hell. Little farm kid, small fantasy town, marry a local girl, grow potatoes, die. Instead you somehow put a ring on one of the most famous adventurers in the whole damn kingdom, this stacked, battle-scarred goddess with giant tits, a perfect ass and a sword arm that could probably snap your spine if you misbehave. And she actually agrees to drop the armor, squeeze into a too-tight tavern uniform and work in your tiny, creaky bar as the new sexy waitress. It already feels like cheating just watching her bend over tables and pretend she doesn’t notice the way every drunk in the room is measuring her up like she is tonight’s main dish.

The game basically runs on that one dirty thought you never admit to anyone: what if your own wife wasn’t just yours? You’re the owner, she’s the barmaid, and every night the place fills with horny bastards, big spenders, shady mercs, orcs with big black cocks that barely fit in their trousers, and you decide how far you push her. Maybe you keep it “sweet” at first. Let her flirt, talk with that cute shy smile, boobs almost falling out of her corset while guys tip extra to see a little more cleavage. Then you start choosing drinks or events that push the mood. Stronger liquor, louder music, “accidental” wardrobe malfunctions, bets that end with her sitting in some stranger’s lap while you pretend to count coins. It’s all about nudging the line and then watching it vanish. One moment you’re proud husband, next moment you’re in the storage room jerking off because she just let a dark elf slap her ass in front of everyone and laughed like it was nothing.

What hits hard is how the game makes you feel both powerful and pathetic at the same time. You call the shots, pick dialog, pick what she wears, if she serves the regulars in that half-open shirt or that super tight skirt she can barely walk in. You choose if she smiles and seduces, if she blushes in humiliation, if she gets rough-handled behind the bar when you “look away” a bit too long. Sometimes you try to be a good guy and keep her safe, but the tavern itself kind of corrupts you. Money goes up faster when she lets them touch. Reputation spreads when she serves the big black stud in the corner and doesn’t stop him when his hand climbs under her skirt. And the part that fucked my brain a bit is that she actually likes the attention if you keep pushing that way, or she hates it and still does it because she wants you happy, and both versions are hot for completely different reasons. It’s not just porn, it’s this slow, messy slide from “my loyal wife” to “everyone’s favorite milf waitress” with you stuck between jealousy, pride, arousal and this weird, guilty smile while adventurers brag about how good her mouth feels. By the time the tavern is famous, you’re not even sure if you’re still the husband or just the guy who owns the bed she crawls into after getting pounded behind the bar. And somehow, that’s exactly what you were dreaming of from the start.