Lena looks like the kind of girl who should be in some boring office job, not standing half naked in a sweat-soaked ring with some psycho redhead trying to choke her out while the crowd yells for more tits. That clash is what makes this game hit different. You don’t start as some overpowered porn goddess, you start as a broke girl stuck in a shit city, dragged into sexfights because her idiot dad couldn’t stay away from cards. New Ipswich feels like one of those places from a trashy crime anime that never got a second season: neon, sleaze, and everyone pretending this is “just business” while they bet on who gets fucked on the mat. The whole sexfighting thing sounds silly on paper, then you’re in your first real match, Lena’s breathing heavy, sweat on her skin, the other girl grabbing her hair, and suddenly the humiliation hits harder than the punches. Either you dominate, or you get used. It’s that simple and that messed up.

The fights are not just button mashing. You switch from strikes and holds into sex moves so fast it feels illegal. One second you’re working a clinch, next second the crowd is chanting for Lena to “open up” and you actually consider it because if she goes full tease, she can flip the mental game. Let an enemy strip her top off in front of the audience and the shame drains her focus, but if you time it right and Lena turns it around, pins the girl, crotch grinding on her face, forcing her to lick while the camera zooms in on every wet detail, suddenly she’s the one owning the exhibition. I had this one match where I played it “nice” for too long, tried to win clean with jabs and throws, and the rival just snapped, mounted Lena, shoved fingers in her, rode her to a sloppy creampie in front of everyone and then walked off like she just claimed a trophy. I actually paused and stared at the screen like: “ok, that escalated.” It’s rude in a good way. Or a bad way. Depends how broken you are.

What caught me off guard is how the game leans into both sides of domination without pretending they are equal. Sometimes Lena is on top, literally sitting on a girl’s face, grabbing her hair, forcing her to eat her out while flashing her big tits to the crowd like she owns the whole damn city. Sometimes it flips and a bigger fighter or some smug guy just treats her like a toy, using her throat, pushing past her limits, making her cum against her will, then leaving her on the sticky canvas with that dazed, fucked-out look. The humiliation is not soft either. They taunt, spit, pull her legs open, finish inside her while the gamblers laugh, and the game just quietly nudges you like: “hey, she still has debts to pay.” It even has these quiet moments in the locker room after, where Lena is leaning against the wall, thighs still trembling, and you’re picking what she does next, who she confronts, whether she chases power or just survives. It almost feels romantic sometimes when she faces another girl who clearly wants her as much as she wants to win, tongue tangled with knuckles, lesbian heat right in the middle of a dirty brawl. Then some asshole promoter reminds you she’s just another body to bet on and the mood dies. That’s kind of the charm though: nothing is clean here. Sex is a weapon, a punishment, a reward, and half the time Lena’s not sure which one she’s holding.

Hoshino Academy looks normal on the surface. Clean hallways, serious teachers, track stars running around like it’s a shonen anime, everyone pretending they’re “future leaders of society.” Then you open your mouth as Sasaki Keita, this loud idiot with too much justice in his brain and zero filter on his tongue, and the whole place starts showing its rot. The game throws you right into it with that first crash into Rin, the photography club president, camera hitting the floor, her eyes going wide like she just watched her whole life savings die. No fancy introduction, just “you fucked up, now pay it back with your time and your body watching hers fall apart.” It looks cute at first, like some wholesome romance VN where you help a shy artsy girl keep her club alive with cool shots and after-school trips. You walk around the school from his point of view, always stuck inside his head, listening to his jokes and stupid comments while secretly getting attached to that girl with the broken camera and the stubborn smile.

Then the Principal starts to move. Daizo is that classic ugly bastard type, but here he feels more like a slow disease. You see him in the background in early scenes, just standing there too long, watching Rin a bit too close, saying polite things that feel sticky. The story doesn’t rush the sex, and that’s what makes it nasty in a good way. It’s all small touches. Extra “private” photography advice. A hand a bit too low on her hip when he’s “correcting her posture.” A scene where you’re hiding out of sight, POV locked in while Rin thinks you went home already, and you end up watching her getting cornered in some quiet room under the excuse of “helping her secure sponsorships for the club.” The game forces you to just sit there, helpless, as his fingers trace up her thigh, while she laughs nervously and tries to stay polite. You can’t stop it, can’t pick a hero option, it’s a kinetic ride, and that hurts in this delicious, stomach-twisting way if you like NTR and corruption. That’s the thing: the corruption here isn’t only about sex. It’s watching her trust slowly tilt from you to that disgusting bastard, seeing her texts to you get shorter while her “club activities” get longer, her outfits shift, her smile turn slightly fake around you but more real when she’s alone with him, and you know exactly what that means.

Sex scenes hit like a truck when they finally show full-on action. There’s this oral scene where you’re stuck watching from behind a door crack, the AI-styled CG really leaning into her messy, half-teary look as she’s on her knees, hair grabbed, choking around him while he makes her “thank him” for some club grant. You can hear her voice trying to sound like she’s not into it, but the game gives these little details that betray her body, like the way her legs rub together or the shaky breaths when he gropes her tits through the uniform. The BDSM stuff is not hardcore chains and whips all over the place, it’s more about control and humiliation in small steps. Being ordered to pose, to undress slowly for “artistic reference,” to let him touch where he wants while promising better chances in competitions. Later it escalates into prostitution-flavored deals, sessions where he loans her out under polite school words, and you’re just trapped in that POV, knowing she used to laugh at your dumb jokes and now lets him spit on her tongue. The romantic side with Keita never fully disappears, and that makes it worse: he’s still trying to be a good guy, still cracking jokes, still clearly in love, even as the game shoves his face up against the window while Daizo slaps Rin’s ass and calls her his good little pet. The humor never fully goes away either, which honestly pissed me off and also made it hotter; you’ll have a silly scene about some club mishap, then five clicks later you’re staring at Rin getting groped under a desk while a teacher talks in front of the class. The sexual harassment, the slow mental twist, the way she starts defending him when you complain, saying you “don’t get how the world works” while she quietly adjusts her skirt over bruised thighs… it’s not kind, it’s not “fair,” and it absolutely doesn’t care what you want. And that’s exactly why my dick and my brain both ended up trapped in this messed up school.

This one feels like reading someone’s old chat logs that you were never supposed to see, but the window is stuck open and you just… keep scrolling. You play as this guy who meets again with a childhood friend, and right away you feel that awkward mix of nostalgia and “fuck, I used to jerk off thinking about her.” It’s not some big heroic setup, it’s more like you walk into a familiar room and everything’s been moved around, including her. She’s older, softer in the right places, that kind of lazy MILF hotness where she doesn’t even need to try. The game doesn’t spend an eternity on exposition, which I actually liked. There’s this quiet tension where your brain is already filling in the gaps: the afternoons you had together, the stupid inside jokes, all that “we almost kissed once” energy sitting there like a loaded gun.

The kinetic format helps the pace a lot. You’re not pausing every two minutes to pick some fake deep choice; it just drags you along the way a bad memory does. There’s a really nasty pleasure in how the scenes are framed. You keep noticing hands, lips, little motions. Her sitting too close on the couch, the way she looks over her shoulder when she knows you’re staring at her ass, how her tongue looks when she laughs. Then it slides into the sexual stuff in that very “oh shit this is actually happening” way. The oral and hand stuff is detailed enough that you can almost hear it in your head, but it never becomes cartoonish. She uses her mouth like she’s done this a lot and stopped being shy about it years ago. At the same time, you get those ugly flashes of jealousy, because it’s clear she didn’t stay frozen in time waiting for you. The NTR angle hits more in the gut than in the dick sometimes. That sick feeling when you realize she talks about another man with the same familiar smile she used to have just for you, while still stroking you off, like your cock is just one more thing she can multitask.

The voyeur elements are what actually made it stick in my brain more than the sex itself. Half the time you’re not even “participating,” you’re watching, listening, overhearing. The game likes to put you behind half-open doors and on the wrong side of the bed, where you can see everything but can’t change anything. Some scenes feel like that shitty habit of stalking an ex on Instagram and then clicking too far back. The visuals lean into that: angles where you’re not the main focus, you’re just the guy in the corner staring, maybe useful, maybe not. There is one thing that annoyed me, the way a really important emotional beat just kind of passes in two lines and then the story runs straight to the next blowjob like it’s late for work, but I guess that rushed feeling kind of matches the whole “you lost her a long time ago, idiot” vibe. Anyway, if you really want to squeeze everything out of it, don’t skip past the slower parts. Let yourself sit in the discomfort, in the little looks and small humiliations. The cum scenes hit harder when you’ve let the resentment simmer first.

The relentless stretch of infinite time weighed deeply on God's soul. Omnipotence and perfect dominion had faded into a tedious, unchanging buzz. What he desired was the ache of falling short, the rapture of difficult victory, the untamed, exquisite pain of dying. And so, he set into motion a radical scheme.

Initially, he molded a form of sheer possibility, christening it Zeno. Within Zeno, he locked the sum of his godly might, the wild, infinite strength that marked his grand life.

In contrast, God assumed a frail, imperfect mortal body. He confined his essence to a loop of reincarnation, a dim ember of the primal blaze, erased of past knowledge and power upon each demise.

He would come to know desire, ecstasy, loss, and anxiety. He would fail, evolve, and fully embrace life.

So started the ultimate ordeal; God was simply one spirit wandering the endless expanse of reality, prepared to confront the disorderly, magnificent, and utterly mortal tale of birth and demise.

Two newlyweds throw caution to the wind. Instead of settling down for a quiet night of passion and plunge out of an airplane. With parachutes strapped on, they don’t just fall - they make the air their playground.

Mid-fall, their bodies entwine in a frenzy of hard sex. The thrill of the drop mixes with the heat of their desire, creating a charged atmosphere unlike any other.

Hands roam freely, teasing and gripping, pulling each other closer despite the chaos around them. The sky becomes a stage for their lust, a backdrop to an unforgettable XXX game where the stakes are as high as their passion.

As they near the ground, the tension builds - both from the impending landing and the mounting pleasure. Cumshots explode with wild abandon, marking the ultimate release in this airborne escapade.

This isn’t your typical just-married story; it’s a daring, explicit adventure that pushes boundaries and redefines passion. If you crave raw, unfiltered adult gameplay with a twist of thrill, this skydiving sex saga will grip you tight and refuse to let go.

You wake up broke, horny, and back in your old room that still smells a bit like teenage shame and cheap body spray, and the game just kind of grins and says, “yeah, this is where it starts.” You’re this young psychology guy who thought he had life sorted, then it all collapses and you crawl back to mom’s house. Only mom isn’t just “mom” anymore. She’s this thick, soft, dangerous kind of beautiful, the kind that makes your eyes slide over her curves against your will. She walks around the house in clothes that hug her huge tits and that insane ass in a way no actual mother should, bending over the couch while you pretend to look away and fail every single time. The camera loves her, almost too much. It lingers on the subtle stuff, the underwear line digging into her hips, the way her nipple outline threatens to show when she moves. You’re supposed to feel guilty. You don’t. Or you do, but it just makes your dick harder. It’s that kind of story.

Then there are the sisters, and yeah, the game knows exactly what it’s doing. The older one moves like a witch who realized she can control a room just by existing. Goth clothes, dark nails that look like they’d hurt when she scratches your back, eyes that tell you she thinks you’re trash but her body keeps betraying her, slower each day. There’s this moment where you “accidentally” walk in while she’s bent over her desk in fishnets, headphones in, skirt just not quite long enough, and the main character just stands there too long while you feel his thoughts going places they absolutely shouldn’t. Later, when the hypnosis angle really kicks in, watching her resist you with this mix of hatred and arousal, hips still grinding in spite of her words, that’s where the corruption hits harder than any sex scene. She spits insults while she rides your cock, then trembles when you ask her who owns that tight ass now, and her voice breaks on the answer. It’s fucked up. It’s hot. It’s both at once. The younger sister is the opposite weather: all pastel pink, soft hair, candy wrappers, plush toys, girly socks that should not look so good wrapped around your waist. She trusts you way too much. She curls against you during a movie, her small tits brushing your arm, and the game slows the moment just enough that you feel that sharp, dirty edge when your hand lingers longer than it should on her thigh. Later, with the mind control, teaching her to touch herself on command, watching her bite her lip while she obeys, that’s the point where “romance” and “corruption” almost merge into this twisted little love story that you’re not sure you’re supposed to enjoy so much.

The hypnotherapist is the real doorway drug. Mom’s friend, older but still tight where it counts, eyes that see too much and voice that rolls over you like warm honey. You sit in her office as “assistant,” pretending to take notes while she drops other women into deep trance, fingers playing with their minds and their bodies at the same time, and you’re there, hard under the desk, memorizing every word, every pattern. There’s a point when she leans down behind a patient and guides the girl’s mouth on a toy, whispering triggers, and your brain just goes click. After that, going home feels different. Sleeping bodies don’t feel safe anymore. The game leans into sleep sex in a way that’s almost too intimate. Like, you stand over your mom’s bed at night, listening to her slow breathing, watching her tits rise and fall under the thin fabric, and one tiny suggestion you planted earlier makes her legs spread a little. She mumbles your name in her sleep while you slide your hand under her panties and the guilt is there, but it’s distant, like a voice behind glass. Same with the sisters, those late-night scenes where the younger one is half-asleep, squirming and moaning softly as your fingers tease her soaked slit, or the older one clenching around your cock in her sleep, cursing you in her dreams while her body begs for more. The game doesn’t flinch from that dirty intimacy. It loves deepthroats that go too far, tears at the corner of her eyes, spit and mascara mess. It loves big tits bouncing while you fuck them, cocks sliding between them until you paint her chest white. It loves asses, god, the asses: thick ebony hips, mom’s juicy milf curves, your sister’s perfect goth bubble butt stretched around your shaft when you finally push into her tight hole and she squirts all over the sheets. Anal, vaginal, titfucks, creampies that drip out slowly while she walks around the house pretending nothing happened. Sex toys buzzing between thighs, collars and ropes appearing on the “good girl” routes that still somehow pretend to be romantic. There’s a weird tenderness under all that filth too, like when you watch your own cum slowly swell inside a belly on the pregnancy scenes, or when a character you’ve completely twisted still smiles at you like you’re her whole world. It’s wrong. It’s beautiful in a fucked way. It feels like you’re building a harem out of people who were once your family, your patients, your lovers, turning them into obedient, wet puppets and devoted partners at the same time, and the game just lets you keep going, deeper, softer, nastier, never really asking you to justify any of it. I just wish the text messages inside the game didn’t use that ugly default pop-up style, it pulls you out for a second, but then somebody drops to their knees, takes you so deep they choke, and suddenly you forget you were annoyed at all.

Leo Pujols has exactly one dream in life: put ridiculous tattoos on buttholes and somehow call it “culture”. That’s the whole vibe. You show up in this sleepy town called Las Nalgas, where everyone pretends they’re classy while secretly being horny and petty as hell, and you’re the guy opening the first dedicated asshole tattoo studio on the main street. You sit there with your little tablet, staring at cheeks spread on the chair, and the game is just like, “yeah, what do you wanna draw on this rear end today?” Hearts, stupid slogans, cursed memes, whatever. You’re not just picking dialogue, you’re literally sketching on asses and then having to live with that choice when the owner walks around town with “BREATH FART” permanently stamped around their ring. People start reacting to your work too. You give one prim librarian a tiny classy flower around her hole, she walks different after that, and suddenly she’s way more confident during later scenes. You slap a bright neon dick on some macho dude’s backdoor as a joke and that comes back in the weirdest conversation at the bar. The writing leans hard into that “I can’t believe someone got paid to write this” energy. Jokes about “town budget” and “cultural funding” end up being about who gets to show off their butthole on the festival poster. There’s this angry protest group trying to shut your shop down, and every time they appear, they talk like they’re saving the youth from degeneracy while the camera just keeps cutting to huge bouncing tits and people nervously clenching. It’s stupid, but it kind of works because the game never acts serious for more than 3 seconds. One moment you’re in a legit emotional scene about freedom of expression, next moment you’re zoomed in on some chick’s asshole trying to decide if you outline the star in black or red while she moans because the needle is “too close to the rim”. It’s chaotic in a good way.

The anal focus is not some side thing, it’s the center of gravity. Every route circles back to asses. Big soft ones, hard gym ones, hairy dude cheeks, there’s a whole parade of butt variety. Penetration scenes constantly play with the tattoos you made. Like, you pound a girl from behind and the dumb little cartoon you drew is just wobbling there like it’s judging you. Sometimes it’s hot as fuck, sometimes it’s so funny you actually lose the mood and still keep going because the writing is that stupid. There’s a scene where you’re mid-anal with a client who specifically came in to “christen” the fresh ink, and she starts critiquing your line work between moans. “Fuck me harder, but also you really can’t keep a straight curve, can you?” That hit me right in my gamer pride. I wanted an undo button so bad and of course there isn’t one. Choices actually stack up in social ways too. You piss off one big-titted local politician by putting a really vulgar message near her hole, and when the council stuff happens later, she remembers. Like, you’re standing at a public meeting where they talk about art grants, and everyone in the room has seen her asshole in the booth at some point. The humor is juvenile as hell, tons of poop-adjacent jokes and butt puns, but every now and then you get this really horny, surprisingly tender anal scene that feels like it fell in from a different game. Then the next line is some nonsense about “emergency sphincter zoning laws” and you’re back to laughing. It has that messy energy of a dev who really loves asses and doesn’t care about being “tasteful”, which is kinda refreshing in a trashy way. The game’s not trying to be beautiful, it’s trying to make you laugh and jerk off while you draw terrible art on people’s back doors, and honestly, it nails that way too well.

Dive right into a deck of cards where strategy beats luck. Scatterd before you are cards with high-value chips, and your task is clear: uncover pairs that cover each other, aiming for the highest combined score. But don’t get comfortable - your digital rival is plotting their own moves in turn, vying to be the first to reach one hundred points and claim victory.

Every turn feels like an electric game of cat and mouse as you weigh every possible move. Will you risk exposing more cards, or will you safeguard your current stash of points? The tension builds, the stakes rise, and behind the scenes, your opponent is closing in. Score smartly, think fast, or lose everything to sheer intuition and cold calculation – the outcome is always uncertain until the final pair is flipped.

Win the round, and you’re rewarded not just by the thrill of triumph but by a sultry, unforgettable prize. Picture a luscious blonde clad in seductive red lingerie, her eyes heavy with desire, ready to reveal how intensely she responds to your skill and dominance. She’s not shy about expressing just how turned on she is by your strategic prowess - every victory fuels her passion, every point you claim fans her flames of seduction higher.

The more rounds you conquer, the deeper you delve into this intoxicating dance of wits and desire. As cards fall and secrets unfold, the tension between player and model thickens with erotic charge. It’s a battleground where intellect meets primal craving – and only the sharpest minds can enjoy the full rewards.

So what are you waiting for? Sharpen your focus, test your instincts, and let the card game push you into a tantalizing realm where every winning pair doesn’t just bring points but unlocks a private show of untamed passion. Play now, outthink your digital foe, and watch the alluring blonde in red underwear melt under the fire of your victorious mind and hands.

Office was dead quiet when I opened this in a side tab, pretending to be “checking Tableau dashboards”. Yeah, sure. This is not a numbers game, unless you count cup sizes like I do. The whole thing spins around this girl, Luna, who starts off feeling pretty average, kind of lost in routine. Nothing special on paper, basic student life, but the fun part is how quickly her “normal” becomes totally fucked in the best way once she finds that weird little shop. It feels like someone mashed a comfy slice‑of‑life VN with a horny growth spreadsheet, then forgot to clean up the formulas. You click through dialogue like usual, but every potion choice is basically a data point in a very perverted line chart. Tits go up, ass goes wide, clothes stop respecting physics, and you keep thinking “ok, that’s enough” then push one more increment anyway.

What I liked is how slow the ramp is at the start. The first time her bra feels tight, it’s described so plain and small that my analytics brain instantly went “ah, baseline shift detected”. Then suddenly she leans over her desk, button strains a bit, roommate notices something is off, and you realise, oh, we’re actually doing a full time series here, not just one jump cut. It’s a visual novel, sure, but it feels like a growth sim hiding in VN clothes. You pick ingredients from the shop that sound half harmless, half cursed, mix them up, and there’s this little thrill when you click to the next scene like you’re refreshing a dashboard after changing filters. Some routes keep it modest for a while, like she’s just getting a bit more curvy, more confident, still fitting in public transport seats. Other times, if you go greedy with the recipes, she turns into walking fanservice and the story doesn’t even pretend to be realistic anymore. Which is fine. We’re already in “magic boob lab” territory.

I got irrationally annoyed by one tiny thing though: sometimes the dialogue repeats her surprise again and again, even after you already boosted her three times with the same potion. Girl, you watched your ass grow out of two pairs of jeans already, you are not “confused” anymore, you are running A/B tests on your own body. At least it feels that way. Still, there is this nice, guilty pleasure vibe when she looks at herself in the mirror and you can tell she is half scared, half turned on. That kind of scene hits harder than the big “wow huge now” moment for me. Also, the game quietly tracks your choices in the background like some horny analyst, feeding you different little reactions depending what path you push her toward. I kept thinking of it like a perversion funnel: start with mild curiosity, end with her filling doorframes and pretending this is still a normal student life. And yeah, I know I should have been doing pivot tables in Google Sheets instead of watching a fictional girl outgrow every outfit she owns, but honestly, watching those curves “trend upward” felt more satisfying than any quarterly growth report I ever made.