You wake up in the future, dick still attached, and somehow that already makes you rare like legendary loot in a shitty gacha. Men are gone, wiped out by some plague, and the world got tired of waiting for them to respawn, so the girls built androids to fill the… gaps. Not just for heavy lifting and fixing pipes either. Your new “life” is basically being a rented toy with a human brain: if a woman flashes her account balance and a weird request, you smile, say “yes, ma’am,” and figure out later why your knees hurt. The game treats this like a normal job, which is kind of the funniest part. One scene you’re lying on a couch while some rich office lady sits on your face like you’re just another piece of furniture, talking on her phone about work targets while using your tongue, the next scene you’re awkwardly trying to pretend you don’t see a horny student girl masturbating in the dorm shower while “testing your sensors.” The tone jumps between sweet, horny, humiliating and just stupid in the good way, like an adult comedy that forgot it was supposed to be subtle.

What I really liked is how it leans into you being property without turning you into a silent mannequin. You can tease back, flirt, or just be confused like a guy who opened the wrong tab at work. There’s a great early moment where your handler drags you to your first client, this shy-looking woman who clearly ordered you “for research.” She acts all serious and academic, then ten minutes later she’s climbing on top of you, hands shaking, asking you to “just stay still and… record the stats” while she rubs herself on you, grinding and panting, apologizing every three seconds and still not stopping. The game loves that contrast: girls acting like they’re in control, but their voice cracking the second your hand “accidentally” slides under the skirt. One milf makes you stand naked on the balcony while she lazily jerks you off from behind, talking in your ear about “exhibition testing,” and you can see other windows lit up, shadows moving. It really sells that voyeur vibe, like half the city is peeking and pretending they’re not.

I wish the notifications bubble in the corner wasn’t that ugly green, it just sits there like a WhatsApp message from someone you hate. Never gets fixed. Anyway, there’s this fun tension in a lot of routes: they talk like you’re just software, but the second you push your luck, like sliding your fingers deeper or holding their hips just a little tighter during oral, they react like you’re very real. Sometimes they punish you for it too. One dommy mechanic girl literally throws you on a workbench, sits on your face, and tells you she’s “recalibrating your tongue module” while grinding till you can barely breathe, then makes you finish her off with your hand under the oily overalls. Another scene goes the other way: a lonely office lady hires you just to cuddle, maybe a bit of groping, but you end up with her gently riding you while half-asleep, soft sleep sex, her muttering her ex’s name and you can decide if you wake her or just hold her tighter and keep going. The game calls itself funny, but it’s also weirdly romantic sometimes, like with the shy lesbian android who starts off just “studying male models” and ends up using you to figure out what she actually wants from girls. There’s groping on crowded trains, forced stripping in small apartments, you jerking off because your client “forgot to finish the test,” harassment in alleys where you’re treated like a vending machine for orgasms. It’s messy, horny, occasionally sweet, and never really lets you forget you’re both a sex worker and a glitchy relic of a dead gender, which sounds heavy but somehow just makes the teasing scenes hit harder.

There is this pretty ordinary looking bar game that kind of pretends to be about “business” and “renovation” and whatever, but honestly it is about staring at hot women in tight clothes while pretending you care about paint colors. You play this guy who comes back to his hometown to reopen his dad’s old place, and right away the game starts mixing that “I want to make my father proud” vibe with “I want to fuck basically everyone who lives under this roof”. Very Greek tragedy, if Euripides had a Pornhub premium account. The whole thing feels like a visual novel that accidentally read too much Bukowski and then watched hentai compilations on Twitter. Most scenes are from the hero’s POV so you’re not just watching, you are literally stuck behind his eyes while he tries not to stare at asses and obviously fails. It’s that slow teasing that gets you: brushing against a thigh “by accident”, a too-long hug in the kitchen, a towel slipping just enough when she bends to pick something, the camera angle doing 90% of the work.

The game likes to pretend it’s romantic, and sometimes it really is. There are these quiet moments where you sit with the MILF character on the couch, she talks about regrets and age and the bar’s past, and you almost forget you spent the previous scene with your hand on her ass while she “helped” you clean the counter. Then it goes from emotional to horny in one line of dialogue. You’ll be talking about invoices and suddenly you are in the stockroom, her back against the crates, your hand under her shirt, groping her tits while she bites her lip and tries not to moan too loud because someone might walk by. The animations sell it pretty hard: hands actually squeeze, hips grind, mouths open and drool a bit when they lose control. First time you push a girl to a messy ahegao during a handjob and she looks half broken, half delighted, it’s like some weird crossover between Joyce’s stream of consciousness and “oh shit, she’s actually into this”. The voyeurism stuff sneaks up on you too; one night you wander the house, see a door slightly open, and you can just stand there and watch her on her bed, fingers buried between her thighs, whispering your name while you do nothing but breathe. Or you do something. The game lets you decide if you stay in the shadows jerking off silently, or you step inside and end up with her mouth full of you, warm spit running down your shaft while she stares up, eyes watering, waiting for that mouthful of cum like some bizarre holy communion.

Sex scenes escalate in a way that feels messy and human instead of clinical. The first time you finally fuck one of them, it is not Olympic porn star performance. It starts with awkward kissing, some shy oral where she tries to take you deeper and gags, pulls back with tears in her eyes and then insists she wants it again. You get that clumsy first vaginal sex where she’s still technically a virgin and keeps telling you to go slow, nails digging in your shoulders when you push in all the way. Later she’s riding you on a barstool, panties pushed to the side, your cock sliding in and out while you try to keep quiet because, yes, the front door is not locked. Anal comes in as this “we really shouldn’t” moment after she’s already dripping from regular sex; you spit in your hand, rub her tight little hole, she curses you in that half joking way and then you press in and feel her whole body shiver in the animation. Creampies happen a lot, probably more than is medically responsible. You finish inside, watch the cum slowly leak out of her swollen pussy, sometimes from her ass, sometimes filling her mouth until she gives you that stupid happy ahegao face and swallows with a loud gulp. There’s humour everywhere, dumb jokes about drink names while her hand is stroking you under the counter, flirting that feels like those horny Discord servers where everyone pretends to be ironic and then starts cybering anyway. It’s not subtle, it’s not elegant, it’s just this strange mix of romance, filth, and renovation spreadsheets that somehow works until you catch yourself caring which wall you paint while replaying the memory of her moaning your name in your head.

I didn’t expect to care about the outfits so much. The first time Kaylan walks into that smoky cantina wearing something that looks halfway between a pilot’s jacket and a dominatrix vest, I actually paused. Like, *why* does this cheap little visual novel manage to make leather look expensive? Everyone else’s clothes seem one breath away from falling off - especially that Twi’lek bounty hunter with the split skirt that screams “fight me but also ruin me.” It’s ridiculous, yet it works. Maybe it’s because the lighting’s uneven, like someone forgot to polish the render - makes the skin look more real somehow, less glossy doll, more sweaty body after a chase scene. I kept thinking, “This shouldn’t be hot,” but it was.

The sound though - it’s weirdly good. Not the music (that’s just spacey hums and random drum hits), but the way the moans are layered under the blaster sounds, almost like they belong together. There’s this one oral scene in the ship’s medbay where the hum of the engine mixes with her breathing, and it’s… unnerving? I mean, I replayed it twice, so maybe not *that* unnerving. And then suddenly they throw in some heavy drama about betrayal and destiny, like I didn’t just watch someone get pinned against a console five seconds ago. It’s jarring, but kind of perfect. You’re half turned on, half emotionally confused, which might be the point - or maybe the devs just didn’t plan it that way. Hard to tell.

What bugs me is the hair physics. I know, weird thing to fixate on when everyone’s naked half the time, but still. Her braid clips through his shoulder right when things get intense, and I can’t unsee it. Yet I’d still call it romantic, in that messy, sweaty, “we might die in hyperspace” sort of way. The whole thing feels like fanfiction that got drunk and decided to grow up. I’m not sure if I love it or if it just caught me off guard, but I haven’t closed the tab yet.

Twilight City is one of those places that looks like a shitty Netflix crime show if you squint, but then it opens its legs and suddenly you remember why you still play this kind of stuff instead of scrolling Pornhub like a goldfish. You’re the guy with the dead eyes and the old case eating your brain, the whole “Red Tape Killer” urban legend that refuses to stay buried. Instead of doing the usual noir thing where everything starts in some smoky office, the story yanks you straight back to your college days, when your biggest problems were exams, cheap coffee, and trying not to stare at your classmates’ tits for too long. That part is actually the nice trick here: you know this is all going somewhere very ugly, but the game forces you to wade through that bittersweet student life where every girl feels important and every bad choice is quietly sharpening the knife for later.

College isn’t some generic porn campus here, although yeah, there’s plenty of “oops, she’s bending over again” moments. You’ve got this mix of girls who feel like they stepped out of different games and accidentally ended up in the same one. There’s the playful tease who keeps fucking with you during group projects, brushing her hand along your thigh under the table while the professor drones on, acting like nothing is happening. Another one pretends she’s only interested in “helping you study” then slowly slides her hand into your lap while asking about your future, as if your cock is part of the career plan. The sex scenes don’t waste your time with theatrical bullshit either. Handjobs that start messy and rushed because you’re both afraid someone will walk in. Slow, drawn out oral where she looks up at you with that smug “I own you now” expression. Classic pussy pounding in a tiny dorm room that squeaks at every thrust while you’re both trying to keep the volume low and completely failing. Tits and ass are front and center, obviously, bouncing in rhythm with every movement. The animations are not perfect, some loops feel a bit stiff, and sometimes her mouth movement is weirdly off from the audio, but honestly that rough edge gives it this cheap porn studio vibe that kind of works. Then again, I’m half blind from too many Steam “adult” games, so maybe I’m just broken.

Under all the fucking, there’s that slow burn detective thread doing push-ups in the background. Random details from banal scenes suddenly matter, like a half-seen red ribbon tied to a bag, or a line in a casual conversation that hits differently when you remember you’re chasing a serial killer. One time I picked a dialogue choice just to be a bit of a sarcastic asshole and later realized it was tied to whether someone actually trusts you enough to open up about a creepy incident on campus. Choices don’t scream “THIS WILL CHANGE EVERYTHING” in neon text, they just sit there, and later you realize you nudged the story into a darker corner. The investigation parts are pretty light, more about talking, piecing together small clues, and deciding who you believe instead of playing CSI with a magnifying glass, but the tone fits. That mix of college romance, interracial hookups, and a slowly closing criminal net is strangely addictive. You’re balls deep in a girl, her legs wrapped tight around your waist, and at the same time your brain is quietly replaying that message the killer sent you in the future, trying to match the threat to one of these pretty faces. It’s fucked up, it’s horny, it trips over its own shoes sometimes with pacing, and the writing swings between sharp and cheesy like a drunk on a staircase, yet I kept clicking next, just to see which of these “innocent” memories is hiding the rot.