This one feels like scrolling your phone after a breakup, half naked in bed, then suddenly falling into someone else’s messy life and going, “oh shit, that’s me.” You’re this college guy who used to just rot in his room, drowning in cheap snacks and porn tabs, pretending that ghosting your ex and muting half your contacts counts as “healing.” Then basketball drags you back into the light. Not as some heroic sports anime star, more like the dude wheezing on the court, staring at a girl’s bouncing tits in a sports bra and losing the ball because your dick thinks faster than your brain. The game leans into that awkward, horny, slightly cringe vibe. You’re not a smooth sex god at the start. You’re a rebound. For your own life, and sometimes literally for some of these girls who also use you to forget their shit.

The way it mixes horny and emotional is weirdly hot. One moment you’re in a quiet dorm room, just you and this girl with a huge ass squeezed into tight leggings, music low in the background, her hair messy in that “I didn’t plan to get fucked tonight” way. She laughs at something stupid you say, leans in, her tits softly pressing into your arm, and the whole world shrinks to the sound of her breath in your ear. Then the next scene you’re on the court, sneakers squeaking, crowd noise like a fuzzy roar, and you’re staring at the cheerleader with big boobs bouncing in slow motion while you miss a free throw you absolutely should have nailed. The writing loves to drag you back and forth like that. Loving the chaos and then pretending you’re better than it. The harem stuff sneaks up on you too. You start with just trying to talk to one girl without sounding like a Reddit post, and before you know it you’ve got a horny goth chick teasing you, a sweet sporty girl who moans your name when you pin her to the shower tiles, and some bratty college princess who pretends she hates you even while she’s grinding on your lap in a dark party corner. Choices matter, but not in that stiff “good route / bad route” way. More like: do you jerk off alone and text someone after, or do you swallow your fear, go to that date you almost cancel, and end up with her hand sliding under the table, stroking your hard cock while you try not to knock over your drink.

What really sticks is how slow some scenes let things build. There’s this moment where you’re just sitting on a bed with a girl, legs touching. She talks about some stupid fight with her ex. Nothing epic. The lights are low, some indie song plays on her laptop, just a soft background, and you’re watching the way her big breasts move under her loose shirt as she breathes. You feel like a piece of shit for checking her cleavage while she opens up, but the game knows you’re doing it and kind of laughs with you. When she finally climbs into your lap, straddling you, kissing you with this mix of need and hesitation, it feels earned. Like you really crawled out of your slump for this. Then other times it just goes full hentai brain, like “hey, you won the game, here’s a girl with ridiculous big tits riding you until the bed squeaks, moaning so loud you’re sure the whole dorm hears.” And both vibes work. It’s romantic one second, absolutely filthy the next. You masturbate, you fail, you get humiliated and turned on by the wrong things, you pick dumb options just to see what happens, maybe you score big, maybe you crash and burn. It never pretends you’re some perfect hero. You’re just a horny college idiot trying to turn one little rebound into a life where you fuck up less and fuck a lot more.

Fog rolls in, streets go quiet, and John is just stuck at work with two women he mostly knows from awkward breakroom small talk. That’s the whole vibe here: not some badass hero fantasy, but a guy trapped in an office while the world outside rots in a toxic soup. One second he’s checking his phone, the next the signal dies and the city kind of just vanishes behind this white, angry fog that literally burns skin if you get too brave. It’s weirdly intimate, because when everything outside goes to hell the only thing left to play with is people’s nerves, their fears, their bodies, their need to feel close to someone while it all might end tonight or next week or never. The horror parts hit first, and then slowly the romance and the sex leak in around the edges like the fog under a door, not some instant “you are the chosen dick” story. You feel stuck with Kallie and Laura in this poisoned little bubble, watching them crack, get scared, get horny, get angry, sometimes all in the same scene. It’s messy in a good way. Not every line lands, some conversations ramble, and sometimes John acts like a confused Reddit thread, but that’s also kind of believable.

What really caught me is how often the game lets you just say small shit. Little comments that don’t blow up the plot, they just sit there in the back of someone’s mind. You flirt at the wrong moment and Desire ticks up a bit even while Anxiety spikes, so she might still let you slide a hand under her shirt later, but she’ll shake when she kisses you. You’re nice and soft with her after she has a panic attack and Love crawls higher, which makes the eventual creampie scene feel more like “we might die, please stay inside me” than porn hub speedrun. It’s not all sweet, though. There are moments where the sex is raw and selfish, bodies slamming together on some half-clean office couch or cramped storage room, her moaning while the building around you feels like a coffin. Condoms exist mostly as a suggestion, which the characters ignore whenever the tension finally snaps, and the game leans hard into that risk. You can have a romantic talk, then five clicks later you’re pinning her against a window with the toxic fog just beyond the glass, filling her up because you both need proof you are alive. I wish the UI text was a bit bigger on my phone, but anyway, the story quietly shoves you into this fucked up little family, where trust, lust, fear and love keep shifting around like stats you pretend not to care about while you very much do. Sometimes the pacing drags for a scene or two, then suddenly you’re in a pitch-dark hallway, breathing with her, feeling her hand find your crotch because she wants reassurance in the only stupid way she knows. It’s not subtle. It’s also strangely tender. And then out of nowhere the game just drops a line that feels like a shitpost and you remember people made this on actual computers and not in some cursed fog dimension.

Dan is that guy who thought getting into automation engineering would make life all clean and logical, then ends up resetting routers for boomers on tech support while his dick basically runs his decision making. Game starts pretty calm, him just being this slightly awkward dude at a soul killing job, and then boom, Christina walks back into his life. Old high school friend. The kind of “friend” you used to think about in the shower and then tell yourself it was just hormones. Now she’s grown into this walking temptation with huge tits, soft voice, and that mix of sweet and lowkey horny teasing that makes your brain lag like a shitty Discord call. The game really leans into that familiar energy, that weird nostalgia where you remember her as the girl eating fries in the cafeteria, but now she’s pressing those big boobs against your arm and asking if you “missed hanging out” with that innocent smile that is absolutely not innocent.

It plays like one of those slow burn visual novels where half the tension is in what you don’t say. You’re clicking through their chats, coffee meetups, small talk that clearly wants to be dirty talk, and the fun is in trying to read her mood from each CG, each little facial shift. One moment she’s joking about your boring office job, next moment she’s leaning too close, t-shirt pulling just enough to show cleavage that should be illegal, and you get that CG freeze of her looking up like “what, do my tits distract you?” And yes, they do, thanks for asking. There are scenes where she pretends to be all innocent, like “oh, I didn’t know this top was so tight,” while she very obviously knows exactly what she’s doing. That teasing is almost more intense than the actual hentai scenes. Almost. When you finally get those, they’re the kind of CGs where you stop clicking and just stare. Sweat, flushed skin, her legs spread on your couch after “just watching a movie,” and you can almost hear the cheap Netflix show still playing in the background while she rides you slowly, hair messy, cheeks red, tits bouncing while she tries to “keep it quiet.” Yeah, that whole “friends” thing does not survive very long.

What stuck with me is how the game sells that romance angle without pretending it’s some pure love story. It’s horny as hell, but it’s not just random fuck scenes thrown at you like a porn hub playlist. You get that build up: old memories, little jealous moments when she mentions other guys, the way she casually touches your shoulder then pulls back like she’s testing you. One CG where she hugs you from behind after a rough day and her boobs are basically wrapped around you like a warm anime pillow, and you can tell she knows what that does to you. They talk about stupid stuff too, like high school rumors and who dated who, and in between those lines you feel the “what if we had hooked up back then” tension. At some point she straight up asks if you ever had a crush on her, and depending on what you pick, the vibe of the next scene totally shifts. There’s this moment where she shows up in your place “just for a drink” in tight jeans and a top that can barely contain her chest, sits way too close, then starts playing with her hair, crossing and uncrossing her legs, throwing you looks like she wants you to fuck up and make the first move. When you finally push past all that and she lets you strip her, she still keeps that teasing energy, like biting her lip and pretending she’s shy while her body tells a completely different story. It’s messy, it’s horny, it feels like that dangerous zone between old friend and full-on girlfriend, where every choice might fuck things up or make her moan your name louder. And honestly, that’s exactly the fun part.

It’s messy in a way that feels uncomfortably real, like watching someone make the worst decisions possible and still finding yourself leaning forward, curious where her next excuse will lead. Yumi moves through the story with this almost painful self-awareness - she knows she’s being watched, both by the player and the game’s world, but she never really stops preening for it. The first time she opens her blouse just slightly too far during that office scene, there’s no sound cue, no dramatic pause - just the soft rustle of fabric and that flicker of doubt on her face. I swear, that moment hit harder than any of the explicit stuff later. The game tries to sell corruption as gradual, but honestly, it’s more about how easily she adjusts to attention. Maybe that’s what makes it so believable.

Then again, sometimes it overplays its hand. There’s this one animation loop during a handjob scene where her eyes cross weirdly, and it pulled me straight out of it; felt more comedic than erotic - like a reaction meme frozen mid-spasm. But that’s part of its charm, right? It’s too earnest to be slick. Even the blackmail thread with Thompson manages to feel less like some grand scheme and more like the world’s creepiest HR problem spiraling out of control. Which, depending on your mood, could be hot or just exhausting. And yet, when Yumi whispers something half-hearted before giving in, it lands. Maybe because the voice acting doesn’t try to sound sultry - it sounds confused, nervous, real.

The lighting deserves attention though. Somebody clearly obsessed over skin tone gradients because every sweat bead looks deliberate. The husband scenes are quieter, tender even, though they carry that slow dread of knowing he’s already losing her. I found myself irrationally annoyed by his tie color - gray, always gray - as if that dull choice symbolized everything wrong with him. Maybe that’s reading too much into it. Or maybe the game wanted that reaction. Anyway, it lingers. You finish a session and keep thinking about those tiny hesitations, how desire can look like guilt when the camera holds just a second too long.