Everyone tells you college will change your life. In this one it changes before you even unpack your damn suitcase. You’re this clueless freshman, half horny, half anxious, dragged into a house party hosted by Devin, the kind of guy who somehow knows everyone on campus by day two. The place is the usual student chaos: solo cups everywhere, some shitty playlist on loop, people grinding in the kitchen for no reason. And right in the middle of it, someone pulls out a bottle and suddenly the whole night turns into one long “how far will you go if everyone’s watching” test. Nothing hardcore at first, just little dares, stupid teasing, that slow, annoying build where you keep thinking “ok now someone is finally going to take something off” and then they chicken out. Or you accidentally click the “wuss” option because your finger slipped on the phone screen and now the whole room is laughing and you kind of deserve it.

The game feels like you’re poking around a messy Instagram story you can actually control. It’s point and click, yeah, but it’s more like reading horny chat logs that suddenly turn into choices you’re not ready for. You creep through rooms, find people alone on balconies, half-dressed in bathrooms, making out in dark corners, and you get that voyeur vibe going strong. Like that moment you walk in on two girls arguing over a dare and one of them is already topless, arms crossed over these huge tits that the artist clearly loved way too much, and you’re just standing there pretending you were totally looking for the fridge. The game lets you lean into that creeping, makes you peek around doors, hover your mouse where you shouldn’t, check a mirror to catch reflections of someone stripping in the other room. It’s a “no actual sex yet” kind of ride, but they push groping and grinding and clothes coming off so close to the edge that you’re basically begging the story to misbehave. There’s romance too, in that messy party way: you flirt with one girl, tease another, accidentally walk in on some interracial couple making out on the couch, and the game just shrugs like “you want to join or what.” And then suddenly it’s asking you to choose who you really want to impress, even though you kinda want them all, because harem brain hits fast when you’re a horny freshman with zero real-life experience and too many options.

What I like is how the text keeps clowning on you. You choose the “smooth” line and the narration throws shade like “wow, you really said that.” The humor is dumb, self-aware, a bit trashy, and the AI CG girls somehow look both cute and a little uncanny at the same time, which accidentally fits the whole awkward college vibe. Big asses in tight jeans, short skirts that are just waiting for some drunken exhibitionism dare, that one shy girl who turns into total chaos when someone suggests stripping for “equality,” and the way the game slowly corrupts your choices. At first you play nice, you’re empathetic, you worry if someone is uncomfortable. Later you’re clicking on options like “keep staring” and “touch her ‘by accident’” and pretending you’re still a good guy. You’re not. You’re the dude who learns the timing of the bottle spins to aim it at the girl you want to undress, the dude who checks the patio window just to catch someone grinding in the dark. It’s messy, horny, text heavy, more teasing than payoff, like one very long party that never quite ends in a bedroom, but you stay anyway because every new spin of the bottle might finally cross that line you want it to cross. Or maybe you just want to see who drops their clothes next. Same thing.

Matthew is the kind of guy who should have a boring life. Office job, pretty fiancée, wedding planner app open on one monitor and Jira on the other. On paper he is normal. Inside his head he is a fucking swamp creature. The whole game lives in that swamp. Most of what you see is messenger threads, photo drops, late-night voice notes that might as well be curses from some old god of horny regret. One moment he is sending Ashley a cheesy selfie from the office bathroom, next moment an ex slides into his DMs with a half-naked pic that hits like a ritual knife. The screen fills with that familiar Telegram / WhatsApp style clutter, but every new message feels like you are cutting tiny veins in his future. It all looks casual at first, almost harmless. Just chats, a few AI-touched photos, some emojis, harmless teasing. Then the masturbation scenes creep in quietly, like mold. You are alone in his room, staring at photos you probably should delete. The text slows down. His thoughts start repeating, circling around the same ass, the same memory of a hotel room, the way Ashley’s friend looked at him at that party. There is nothing subtle about how the game treats lust. It wants you to wallow in it. It wants you to feel a bit disgusting while you scroll, like when you stalk your ex on Instagram and your thumb hovers over the like button on some old bikini shot. Except here you can push further and see what breaks first, his guilt or his dick.

The corruption path felt the most like some twisted romance ritual to me. You start with one "harmless" flirt line to a girl you absolutely should not text. Then you accept a suggestive photo. Then you send one back. The chat log turns into a slow summoning of a worse version of Matthew, message after message. At some point you are juggling windows: Ashley sending you sweet wedding ideas while another woman is asking what color your cum was last night. The voyeurism angle hits harder than I expected, because the game makes you read everything. You see other people’s typing bubbles, their typos, the way their tone changes when they get horny or jealous. Watching Ashley slowly doubt herself while you keep a secret chat alive in another tab feels like staring at a fish tank and removing the oxygen little by little. The game pretends to offer a pure "way of love", and maybe it is there, but I kept fucking it up. Even when I tried to stay loyal, I clicked one teasing option and suddenly I was neck-deep again, jerking off to a memory instead of talking to the woman I’m supposed to marry. It’s funny because the romance is actually kind of sweet in places, like those quiet text chains about nothing that somehow feel intimate. Then a single choice flips it and you are in NTR territory before you can blink, watching someone else touch what should be yours while your messages turn into little prayers nobody hears. I got mad at Ashley once for something that was clearly my fault, which is exactly the kind of petty human evil I like in these stories. It reminded me of reading Lovecraft on my phone in the bathroom, that same cold feeling that you are too small in front of your own urges. The only thing that really annoyed me was the damn notification sound effect they use in one chat. It hits slightly off-beat, like out of sync with the text, and I kept waiting for the dev to fix it in an update that never came.

Vanesa’s office looks like one of those high-end wellness apps tried to cosplay as a porn set and failed in a sexy way. Soft lighting, too much white, some fake plant in the corner, and this huge leather chair that basically screams “you’re going to do something you regret here.” You play this poor corporate drone who pretends to be there for “stress” and “performance anxiety,” but let’s be real, you’re there because she’s a futa shrink with big tits, lazy confidence and that slow way of talking that makes every normal sentence sound like a dirty suggestion. The game doesn’t waste time with complex fake psychology bullshit. She asks a few surface questions, looks bored, then starts poking at all your insecurities: your job, your dick, your relationships, your self-control. And she does it while slowly closing physical distance, touching your wrist a little too long, adjusting her glasses while staring straight at your crotch, that kind of teasing that hurts in a good way. It feels like those fucked up horny thoughts you get at work when you see a hot manager walk by and wonder what would happen if you just stopped being a decent human for a moment.

What I didn’t expect is how much the therapy vibe is used as an excuse to blur consent in this very specific “you are technically agreeing but you know she’s playing you” way. She gives you “exercises” that start innocent and then suddenly her hand is on your thigh, and you’re getting a slow, clinical handjob while she keeps this professional tone like she’s reading from a self-help audiobook. When she goes down for oral, she doesn’t transform into some wild porn actress; she stays calm, measured, like she’s testing you, watching your reaction as if she’s tracking progress on a chart. The best part is how she talks about your partner, like a case study. She keeps asking about them, how the sex is, what’s missing, why you’re fantasizing about someone else. Then she casually suggests “practice sessions” to help you “perform better at home,” which is fucking hilarious because you can literally feel she doesn’t give a shit about saving your relationship. There is this cold spark of ownership behind her eyes. The game calls it therapy, but it’s closer to grooming you into her personal toy, and the netorare/netori angle hits harder because it’s not loud or dramatic, it’s slow, it’s a creep of boundaries. One moment you’re fully dressed talking about stress, the next she has your cock in her mouth and she’s asking you, in this calm tone, if you think your partner could ever satisfy you like this. It’s intimate and fucked up at the same time, and the more you go back to her, the less you even pretend you’re there to “heal” anything. You’re just chasing that strange mix of shame, relief, and the feeling that someone smart and dangerous has their fingers wrapped around both your mind and your dick.

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.