New place, new bed, new walls thin as paper. That is pretty much the whole mood here. You move into this boring crappy apartment with your little boxes and your cheap IKEA dreams, and then you hear her through the wall. Not just “hi I’m your neighbor” stuff. Moans, toys buzzing, little breathy whispers that are way too familiar if you know this genre at all. The game does not rush it, which I liked and also hated, because the first time you see her in the corridor, in that lazy half-cosplay outfit that totally looks like she slept in it, your brain already writing fanfic, but the story makes you work for the really dirty scenes. And that makes the payoff feel filthier. You start with normal chats, light teasing, that awkward “I think I know your voice from last night” tension, and slowly the conversations turn into dares, jokes about porn, and then into “accidentally” brushing against each other in really narrow spaces that are not that narrow at all.

The realism side hits different because the characters do not talk like porn robots. She gets annoyed, she makes stupid memes references, she calls you out when you try to act like a hentai MC with infinite charisma. At one point, during a handjob scene on her couch, she keeps the TV on with some random Netflix show, and that background noise makes it feel so real it is almost uncomfortable. She teases you with her feet while arguing about some anime adaptation that you do not even see on screen, and the camera just focuses on her hand, slow, almost lazy, like she knows you are not going anywhere. Then later there is this cosplay thing where she shows up in a cheap maid outfit that does not even fit quite right, and that is exactly why it works: the stockings are a bit wrinkled, the skirt rides up weird when she sits on your lap, and when you grab her ass she laughs first, then lets you do it again, harder. That whole scene ends with her riding you, still half in character, half her real self, while you try not to cum too fast and fail anyway, so she holds you inside, tight, and you can actually see the animation of your cum leaking out instead of some lazy white blur effect.

Also, yeah, the taboo stuff is there. The “we really should not be doing this, but also I really want your cock inside me right now” kind of dialog that flirts with the line in a way that porn fans will understand instantly. There is a bit where you are sitting in her room, she is on the bed with a toy between her legs, and she makes you watch first. She says she wants to “test” something. Then she tells you to spit on your fingers and help her, and when you do, she uses your hand to push the toy deeper, then pulls it out just to suck on it, eyes locked on you. Later on, when you finally cum inside her, it is not this big heroic finish. You are both sweaty, a little out of breath, she is half laughing, half blushing, and when your load spills out of her she covers it with her hand like she is trying not to make a mess on the sheets, which is stupid because it is already everywhere. The spanking parts feel messy in the same way. She complains about the noise and then asks you to hit harder. You smack her ass, red prints showing up slowly, and she bites the pillow to muffle her moans like this is not the same bed where she was pretending to be shy two scenes ago. Oral scenes also feel personal instead of mechanical: she struggles a bit on the first deep throat, pulls back with watery eyes, calls you a bastard, then tries again and gets it all, proud of herself in this dumb cute way. And the choices actually matter: say the wrong thing and she closes up, say the right dirty thing at the right time and suddenly there is a vibrator on your balls while she strokes you off. Nothing here feels clean or idealized. It feels like messy neighbors doing way too much nasty shit in a building with really bad sound isolation, and that is exactly why it works.

KRUZ CITY feels like that dirty daydream you get on a long bus ride when your mind starts drifting and you suddenly remember how much you like soft skin and the sound of someone breathing right in your ear. It starts pretty tame: you come back to your hometown after being basically locked in this brutal sports camp, muscles sore, balls even more sore, pretending you care about training drills when actually you’re just thinking about thighs and lips and the smell of shampoo on a pillow. The moment you arrive, the place looks normal on the surface, but every corner feels loaded with some secret. A door half open, a shower running too long, a bedroom light still on at night where it really shouldn’t be. You walk around thinking you’re just exploring a city, and suddenly you’re peeking through a window and realizing this older woman you kinda remember from childhood is kneeling between some guy’s legs, tits pressed against his thighs, and you feel that hot stab of jealousy and arousal at the same time. It’s not subtle about it, which honestly I liked. The game doesn’t treat you like a kid.

What stuck to my brain is how physical everything feels. There’s this scene where you finally get a “private” moment with one of the milfs, and it starts with something simple, like her fingers brushing your hand while she hands you a drink. That tiny touch, just skin on skin, makes the whole screen feel heavier. Then it moves to her sitting too close, your leg pressed against her soft thigh, and when she shifts her weight you can almost feel that warm pressure slide across you. When she wraps her fingers around you for the first time, it’s slow, like she’s testing how far she can go, thumb rubbing the tip, palm squeezing just a bit too tight. You actually notice silly stuff, like the way her tits bounce a little when she changes grip, or how her ass digs into the couch when she leans forward to whisper something filthy, hot breath on your neck. And because the game likes to mess with your head, sometimes you’re watching this from a distance instead, hidden in the dark, seeing her do the exact same teasing moves on another guy. That part hits different. There’s this ugly, horny twist in your chest, like your stomach drops and your cock twitches at the same time, especially when she moans his name in a voice you thought was just for you. I wish I could say I hated it. I didn’t.

Kinda funny how often it plays with that “am I a good guy or just a horny bastard” feeling. One night you’re sneaking into a room, lights low, hearing soft breathing and wondering if you should really be here. The girl is half asleep, big ass barely covered by a thin sheet, one leg bent, panties riding up just enough to show the curve of her pussy. You slide your hand along her thigh, and the game lets you push it, fingertip by fingertip, until you’re rubbing her through the fabric, feeling that damp spot grow. She shifts, murmurs something, and you’re holding your breath, completely still, like if you don’t move she’ll keep pretending she’s asleep. That mixture of guilt and raw need is all over this thing. Same with the foot stuff: one of the women casually puts her bare foot in your lap while she talks about something boring, heel resting right on your crotch, and pretends not to notice as her toes start to curl and press. You try to focus on the dialogue, but all you can think about is how the ball of her foot grinds down just a bit harder every time you answer wrong. Sometimes you end up just jerking off alone after, pants around your ankles, staring at your phone, replaying a clip of her sucking someone else off, spit running down her chin. Honestly, I got stuck way too long in one early masturbation scene because the rhythm of her handjob was just that perfect, fingers twisting, wrist pumping faster while she stares you dead in the eyes like she owns you. And the worst part is you kind of want her to.

You wake up in this house that is not really home, but also not some cold shelter, and that tension sits in every scene. The game starts simple: you, a guy with a shitty past, share space with Abby, who is supposed to be your stepmother, and Ashley, the stepsister who clearly has more issues than any of you admit. The story pretends for a while that it is just about “fitting in” and “gratitude”, but the camera lingers too long on thighs, on lips, on the way Ashley bends over the sink for you to believe this is only about family drama. There is this quiet moral rot underneath, and the game knows it. It plays with it. You are given choices that look harmless at first. Help Abby in the kitchen, or scroll your phone? Knock before entering Ashley’s room, or just push the door and hope she is “busy”? These small things slowly become about what kind of person you allow yourself to be when nobody is looking, when your survival was given as a favor and now your dick wants to renegotiate the terms.

The erotic stuff grows out of that pressure instead of just dropping on you out of nowhere. You start with simple voyeur moments: catching Abby half dressed, her towel a bit loose while she scolds you for being lazy; sitting on the couch while Ashley stretches in shorts that technically cover her, but not your imagination. You get to react, and reactions matter. You can pretend you look away, but then the game still shows your hand under the blanket later while you masturbate to what you saw. It is very honest about that petty, horny part of the mind. Sex toys appear first in their world, not yours. A drawer left half open in Abby’s bedroom, a pink vibrator that you find when you are “just cleaning” like a good boy. The game lets you stare at it too long, lets you imagine how it moves inside her, and before long there is a scene where you are alone, that toy in your hand, stroking yourself while the screen cuts between your cock and the memory of Abby’s neckline. It is filthy, but also painfully believable, like the writer has spent many nights on Pornhub and then thought “what if the guilt never went away afterward”.

What makes this all feel more unsettling is how the game does not punish you directly. There is no big “bad ending” screen. Instead it lets your relationship with Abby shift in tiny, corrupt ways. You compliment her dress, she laughs and calls you “sweet”, and later her hand stays on your shoulder a second too long when she walks past. The animated scenes lean into that slow burn. Her chest moving when she breathes, her fingers tightening around a wine glass, your own hips jerking when you finally get a masturbation scene that pays off all the teasing. When Ashley gets involved it tilts into something even messier, because she weaponizes her teenage spite. One scene has her catch you peeking and instead of screaming, she locks eyes with you, slides a dildo between her legs and keeps going, like she is testing how far she can drag you into her own rebellion. As a moral philosopher I should say this kind of fantasy normalizes terrible boundaries, and that is not wrong, but it also exposes how desire often grows exactly where rules are clearest. The game does not try to justify it with nonsense; it just shows a damaged guy, two women with their own loneliness, a house full of closed doors, and then asks in very quiet ways: if nobody stops you, who are you really when your cock is hard and your excuses sound almost reasonable.

You’re 21, fresh out of uni, brain full of half-broken dreams and porn tabs, alone in a tiny place that looks more like a temporary save file than a real home. No job, no plan, no clue. Just a bed, a phone, and this weird feeling that whatever girl walks through your life next is basically a glitch in the code that will push you in some fucked up direction forever. This game leans hard into that idea. It isn’t trying to be “romantic” in the vanilla Netflix way. It feels more like fate dragging you by the collar through kinks you never admitted out loud, while you keep telling yourself “yeah, I can stop anytime” and then obviously you don’t. You start as this regular, kinda lost guy, but the story quietly puts you in spots where you’re kneeling, begging, turned on, confused, all of it layered, like when you’re scrolling Pornhub and suddenly your recommended list is just one big accusation.

The girls are not just checklists of tags, they’re like different corrupt routes for your soul. Tangent shows up like a walking red flag, the kind of woman you’d swear you should avoid, and then you end up refreshing Telegram waiting for her next message anyway. She treats you like a toy she already owns, plays with your ego, talks down to you while she has you licking her clean after she uses your face, or makes you hold still while she rides your cock and casually insults how pathetic you look. One moment she gives you a handjob so slow you want to scream, staring right in your eyes like she can read every dirty thought, then next scene she has a plug in your ass and your dick throbbing untouched, calling it “training” like this is some sacred destiny instead of her just having fun. Humiliation here isn’t just chat text, it’s in tiny moments, like her making you thank her for letting you cum, right after she slapped you for asking. And yeah, there’s titjobs and oral and all the classic stuff, but the way she paces it, like she’s tuning your brain, makes it feel less like porn and more like a long, slow hack of your identity.

Then the story swerves. Penny slides in from a totally different angle, all soft colors and weird comfort, like those TikToks that look wholesome until you read the comments. The tone drops into this messed up “innocent” vibe that obviously isn’t innocent, and suddenly sex toys feel more like props in a role you’re not sure you chose. You’re supposed to be the adult, but scenes twist it so you’re the one who needs control taken away, who gets told what to wear, when to touch yourself, when not to. There’s this one part where you finish in a way that should feel normal, just basic vaginal sex, thrusting, her moaning in your ear, your hands on her hips, and then the aftermath turns it sideways with one line of dialogue that makes you realize you’re not the one writing your own story at all. Natalie isn’t any softer. She just attacks your gender, your pride, your whole idea of “what kind of man I am” and pokes it until it bends. She might start with a blowjob that feels like a reward, sloppy, spit running down your shaft, eye contact that burns, then a few scenes later she’s got you dressed up, sitting pretty, dick hard and useless, while she teases you with a vibrator and jokes about how you were never much of a “real guy” anyway. The thing with this game is that every route pretends it’s just a bit of kinky fun, but then you look back and realize each girl quietly edited a part of you, like fate didn’t give you choices, only different flavors of surrender.