Your boss finally notices you, but not for the reason you wanted. You bust your ass at work, grind through pointless meetings, kiss enough corporate ring that your tongue should get hazard pay, and it actually pays off. Promotion on the table, big project, all eyes on you. Then he invites you to his place to “celebrate the new chapter” and you’re already half thinking about LinkedIn flex posts in your head. Instead you walk in and meet the real final boss of the game: his wife, wrapped in a tight dress that looks painted on, tits practically spilling, eyes locked on you like you’re dessert she ordered for herself.

She doesn’t even try to hide it. From the moment she leans in a bit too close to pour you a drink, her huge chest brushing your arm, it’s this slow burn of “this is wrong” versus “this is hot as fuck”. The game leans hard into that quiet, private tension. Soft little smiles, hands lingering on your shoulder a bit too long, her bending over the table to pick something up and making sure you can’t miss her ass straining the fabric. There’s no instant jump to sex, it’s more like she keeps poking at the line and watching you twitch. She corners you in the kitchen, finger trailing along the glass, asking if you’ve “ever had a woman who knows what she wants”. Boss is in the next room, rambling about quarterly numbers, while his wife slowly closes the distance, eyes half-lidded, tongue wetting her lips. At some point she presses you against the counter, her tits pushed up against your chest, her hand sliding down, fingers teasing your crotch over your pants like it’s just casual fun. And you’re there thinking, “Say no, say no” while your body is screaming yes.

The corruption angle actually hits different because you’re not some loser with nothing to lose. You built your way up, you care about the job, and that makes every handjob under the table at dinner feel ten times more dangerous. There’s this one moment where she invites you to “help” her in the study while the boss is on a call. Door almost closed, just a crack open, and she drops to her knees in front of you so casually it feels like she’s done this before. She looks up at you while unzipping you, like she’s daring you to pull away, and of course you don’t. Warm mouth, slow strokes, her lipstick smearing on your skin while she moans around your cock, then wiping her mouth with this smug little smile and going back out like nothing happened. The teasing is constant. She texts you after, sending pics of her in nothing but an open shirt, tits barely contained, saying she’s “bored when hubby is at the office”. Some routes let you push her further, turning that sexy wife into someone who basically lives to sneak around behind his back with you, climbing into your lap, grinding that big ass against you while she whispers how her husband never fucks her like you do. And yeah, part of you knows this will wreck everything you’ve been working for, but by the time she’s riding you on his couch, soft moans mixing with the sound of her skin slapping on yours, nails digging into your shoulders, you’re way past pretending you’re the good guy anymore.

Reality show from hell, that’s kind of the vibe here. Not the goofy Netflix stuff where everyone cries in the confessional, more like “what if Big Brother was run by someone who jerks off to cruelty and power trips.” You’re the new guy thrown into this locked-down futuristic house, cameras everywhere, no privacy, and twenty-something horny, scared, fucked‑up contestants pretending they’re here for fame while everyone knows deep down they’re being used like meat. It’s all bright lights and fake smiles on the surface, but a few scenes in you start to feel the rot. People get “eliminated” and it’s not just some walk-of-shame to a taxi. The showrunners treat bodies as props. Holes as content. Consent as a slider they can turn off whenever ratings need a boost.

Since I’m into voice work, I went in listening more than watching at first. The moans and gasps during those “teasing” scenes where the girls rub against the MC in the communal bedroom while the others pretend to sleep? That shit feels way too real. There is this one sleep sex moment that actually made me stop and replay, because her breathing shifts so slowly, from deep sleep to confused whimper, then to this reluctant arousal when he pushes her panties aside and starts fingering her under the sheet, while the cameras zoom in and the producers whisper in your ear through the UI, basically encouraging you to keep going. No cartoonish screaming, it’s awkward, wet, quiet. A little uncomfortable. Actually more than a little, and that’s sort of the point here. Same with the blackmail scenes: they use old sex clips, private files, nudes, all that, to force a shy girl to join a group sex “challenge” with guys of different races on live feed, and the MC can either back off or lean into it. When you go with it, the mix of humiliation and arousal in her voice is kind of insane. She’s choking on cock, trying to say “stop” and “keep going” in the same breath. It’s sick, and it’s hot, and I kind of hate myself for liking it.

The sci‑fi / dystopia flavor sits in the background like a bad smell. Futuristic collars, shock systems, drugged drinks served after every elimination, some AI host that sounds almost friendly while pushing the contestants into anal, double penetration and messy creampie “competitions” that feel like twisted party games. There’s interracial and swinging stuff that actually feels like it belongs there, because the show is clearly trying to mix as many bodies and skin tones as possible for the “audience,” not for the characters. At one point they chain a couple to a wall and have other contestants jerk them off in turns while the floor slowly fills with water and blood from the last “test” in the next room, like a porno Saw ripoff that actually commits to the idea. The sound design sells it: wet slaps, muffled cries, someone laughing in the control room, you can hear a mic crackle when one girl is forced into anal while another guy is already buried in her pussy, so you get this rough, overlapping breathing that makes it feel way more chaotic than the usual porn game rhythm. And yeah, it’s all 3D models doing vaginal, oral, anal, the whole package, but I kept coming back to the way they react. Tiny “fuck” under their breath when you push too deep. Nervous giggle before a forced blowjob. That stuff hits my VA brain. The violence goes hard, too: broken noses, bruised throats after rough throat-fucking, someone getting beaten because they refused a group scene, then later you see them again, limping, still used as a toy. Sometimes the MC is just another predator in the system, sometimes he feels trapped with them. The game doesn’t really care what kind of person you are, as long as you keep playing along with its nasty little show.

A lazy demon getting yanked out of his comfy hell and dumped in a house full of horny, chaotic witches is already a good start, but here it actually turns into a whole sandbox of “how much of a perv do I feel like being today”. You start as this summoned demon guy, technically a virgin in the human world sense, trying to figure out what the hell is going on while these girls poke, test, tease, and half the time forget they literally brought a supernatural sex machine into their living room. One minute they’re arguing about magic circles and some paranormal crap, next minute one of them is leaning over the table and you’re stuck staring at bouncing tits from first person view while she “checks your aura” with her hand way too close to your dick. The game flips between goofy jokes and really direct lewd stuff so fast it feels like watching a horny sitcom that suddenly remembers it’s allowed to show creampies and anal.

What I like is how it keeps that roguelike brain-itch of “ok, but what if I click the other option this time” without drowning you in stats. You pick if you want to be more obedient to the witches or lean into being a corrupting bastard, and that choice quietly changes the flavor of everything. Go softer and you get more teasing, romance, and these slow corruption moments where a “good girl” witch lets you grope her under a blanket and pretends it’s some kind of energy test. Go full demon and the same girl shows up later in a tiny outfit, practically begging to be spanked and filled in every hole while you talk shit in her ear. There are milfs mixed with younger-looking witches, big asses everywhere, big tits that jiggle when they strip, and the camera loves parking itself at that angle where you watch your own hand wrapped around a cock or a dripping pussy in POV. Sometimes you’re just jerking off secretly while they argue about magic, sometimes you’re in the middle of group sex on the couch with bodies piled up and someone still trying to keep up the “serious coven meeting” vibe. The humor is dumb in a good way, like that one time a “serious ritual” ends with a blowjob under the table while another witch pretends not to see, and there’s this whole lazy domestic thing where you’re conquering some mundane human object and somehow it ends with a handjob or a girl riding you after she loses a bet. Half the content feels like voyeurism you stumbled into, half feels like harem power trip where you decide who gets bred tonight and who just has to watch and masturbate. Sometimes they flip it and put a boot on your chest or sit on your face and take control, and sometimes you’re the one grabbing their hips, fucking them raw from behind, listening to them moan about getting pregnant in this new world they dragged you into. It’s messy, horny, funny, and just self-aware enough that when the witch you corrupted earlier walks past in a too-short robe and “accidentally” flashes you, you know the game is winking at you as hard as she is.

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.

Guy just wants some cold air and maybe a drink, ends up trapped in the quietest, horniest little horror-comedy grocery store on earth. That’s the vibe here. You walk in, sun burning your brain, and suddenly the outside world just kind of... blinks out. The door locks, shelves feel slightly wrong, lights flicker like they’re trying to flirt, and there she is behind the counter: tiny goth clerk with a stare like she already knows exactly how weak you are. Not the cliché latex dominatrix thing, more like “sleep-deprived art major who could crush your soul with one sarcastic comment” mixed with “MILF energy in training,” if that makes sense. Big tits under a cheap t‑shirt, jeans, zero effort styling, but somehow she looks like a walking fetish ad that forgot to be subtle.

The weird part is, nothing technically “happens.” No actual sex, no naked bodies flying around, nobody jumping your dick. It’s all edging, all mind games, like the game is blueballing you on purpose and laughing. She’ll lean over the counter just a little too far, bend down to grab something so her ass lines up perfectly with your eyes, stretch like she’s in a yoga ad, then act like you’re the creep for looking. She calls you out for every tiny reaction, every stolen glance, like she’s reading your browser history in real time. At one point she casually drops a line about how “guys like you are easy to rewire” and the screen does this tiny flicker and yeah, you feel it. Not jump scare, more like you skipped a frame in your own head. You’re not sure if she’s hypnotic or just really good at gaslighting, but you start clicking through lines faster, waiting for some kind of payoff that never quite lands. It’s a kinetic novel, so no choices, no branches, you’re just strapped into her vibe. That’s kinda annoying and kinda perfect. You keep thinking “ok, next scene she’s gonna finally do something,” and instead she just mocks you, teases harder, leans in with that bored stare and explains exactly how she could make you crawl with a single word. Then nothing. Then a joke. Then she looks straight at you again and tells you you’re breathing too loud.

What got me is how the voyeurism hits without any peepholes or secret cams. You’re just there, stuck, watching her do normal clerk stuff while she very obviously watches you watching her. It flips around, like you become the thing on display. She wipes down the counter real slow, checks her phone, pops gum, types something you can’t see, then smiles in that “yeah, I just changed something in your brain” way. At one point she makes you read signs on the wall, stupid boring rules, but the text starts feeling like commands, like she’s training a dog. She never raises her voice, never goes full “kneel, worm” mode, but you still feel dominated, like your dick is on a leash you can’t see. The humor is messed up in a good way too; she’ll roast your porn tastes, call out your search terms, then switch to dead-serious for two lines and talk about control and consent like a late-night TED talk in a haunted 7‑Eleven, then immediately ask if you’re thirsty. Zero subtle transition. The art is rough but kinda perfect for it, she’s cute and a little off-model from scene to scene, which almost sells the idea your memory is being edited. There’s no big climax, no “and then you bang her” scene, it just leaves you horny, slightly confused, and lowkey worried she’s going to show up in your dreams and make you apologize for scrolling Twitter during the dialogue.

Plague in the kingdom, king on his throne shitting himself in fear, and you, the poor bastard who has to walk into a cursed forest with a cute elf wife who is way too good for you. That is the whole mood of Cursed Forest Quest – you are technically the hero, but it always feels like the story is asking what happens if the hero is soft, horny, and just a bit unlucky. Vallabelle, your elven wife, is the kind priestess type with huge tits, a perfect ass that does not make physical sense for an elf, and a smile that makes you think “ok, she is totally loyal, it’s fine” while the game quietly laughs in the background. The early scenes sell this perfect couple thing hard: sharing a campfire, she heals your wounds, teases you with a slow handjob as a reward for surviving the day, rides you with that soft priestess moaning, and you think, alright, wholesome, I can relax. Then the forest basically says, no, fuck you, this is a cursed land, and starts poking that little insecurity in your brain every time some other guy looks at her for more than two seconds.

What I liked too much, embarrassingly, is how the game uses “small” moments to kick you in the balls. For example, first time you get to a ruined shrine, there is a choice: go search for relics, or send Vallabelle to talk with the local spirit while you check the perimeter. I just clicked through, not thinking, checked a bush that had literally nothing important, and when I came back, the scene cut to Vallabelle slightly flushed, her robe messed up, her tits kind of out, spirit fading away, and her going “it’s fine, just a blessing.” That moment stuck in my head longer than the full-on vaginal scenes. Not even a big animation there, only small touches, like her avoiding eye contact. Later on there is an actual animated scene with her getting pounded against a forest altar, ass bouncing, moans way louder than anything she ever did for you, and that felt almost less cruel than that earlier half-harassment vibe, where you are not sure what happened but your dick and your stomach both react. By the way, the spanking stuff is weirdly casual here. Sometimes you get to spank her playfully as a “punishment” for teasing you in front of a guard, and she giggles and presses that big ass into your hand. Another time, some other guy does a very similar smack, and suddenly the camera lingers way too long, and she bites her lip in a way she never did for you. I hated that. I also replayed that branch three times to see if her expression changes with different quest choices. It barely does, which somehow turns me on more. The game likes to pretend you have control with all the quests and paths, and yeah, there are multiple endings and all, but honestly half the fun is realizing you clicked yourself into a timeline where you are basically watching your own wife get more “blessed” by the forest than cured. I wish there was a path where you could fully stay pure and keep her untouched, but also I really don’t, and it will never happen anyway.

Doom finally stops playing the Saturday morning cartoon villain and starts doing the dirty work everybody always joked he was doing off screen. "Behind the Doom" is basically what happens when a control freak supergenius decides world domination is fine, but ruining Susan Storm’s life from the inside out feels a lot better. It’s a slow burn kind of filth. At the start he’s showing off his shiny Latverian utopia, talking like some tech bro on a TED talk, pretending he cares about peace and progress. Underneath that armor he just wants one thing: Susan kneeling between his legs, wedding ring and heroic ideals both slipping off at the same time. You go from stiff political speeches to her staring up at him with drool on her chin and mascara running, and it somehow feels like a natural career path.

What I liked is that the game doesn’t rush to the hardcore. It lets Susan still believe she’s the good guy for a bit. She thinks she’s just “investigating” Doom, helping the world, being responsible. Then he starts playing with her invisibility in the most perverted ways. Ordering her to suck him off while she’s half invisible, so only her lips and tongue are visible wrapping around his cock, the rest of her fading in and out like she’s glitching from shame. There’s this one scene where he makes her hide under a table while a big diplomatic meeting goes on above, and her job is just to keep him hard with her mouth the whole time. The camera keeps jumping from the stone serious political chat to her swollen, stretched lips working on him under the armor. That moment stuck with me more than the flashy stuff, honestly. It’s the casual way he treats her like a background function now, like breathing or blinking.

Then the game remembers there are other heroines to break and just casually drops Scarlet Witch into the mess, like “oh yeah, magic slut, forgot about her.” Wanda starts as this smug powerhouse, acting like she’s above his tech, and two scenes later she’s helping him train Susan, rewriting her own morals while he rewrites her body. When they both end up on their knees, trading his cock between their mouths, Wanda using her powers to hold Susan’s hands behind her back so she can’t even stop herself from pushing deeper, it’s completely degenerate in the best way. Anal stuff hits harder than I expected too; Doom doesn’t go straight for brute-force pain, he makes it a reward, a “promotion” in his twisted little company. The first time he takes Susan’s ass, he does it on a balcony overlooking his perfect city, making her watch the peaceful streets while he grinds her open, whispering how this is what real stability looks like: her bent over, his cock buried in her, invisible or not, everyone beneath them belonging to him. It’s not subtle, it’s not romantic, it’s just cynical, nasty corruption porn with capes, and it works way better than it has any right to.

Hero in Training looks like one of those “save the village, save the world, get laid along the way” stories, but it actually feels more like a horny slice-of-life training arc that forgot to be epic and accidentally became fun anyway. You play this clueless guy trying to become a hero, but the game is clearly more interested in what happens between fighting lessons than in the fighting itself. The village is full of women who are way too stacked and way too friendly for any realistic fantasy setting. Big tits everywhere, big asses that take half the screen when the camera gets close, and that slightly awkward 3dcg look where sometimes a nipple is doing its own side quest. Honestly, I kind of like that cheap vibe; it feels like someone’s horny personal project instead of a corporate porn machine polished in Unreal Engine. The early “training” sessions are this weird mix of combat basics and very obvious sexual harassment that the game treats like a joke. Your instructor keeps "correcting" your stance by grabbing your crotch or pressing her tits on your back like it is part of the curriculum. At one point she helps you with your sword grip and transitions into helping you with your other “sword”, stroking him slow while still lecturing about discipline. It is messed up, but in that porn-logic way where everyone is aggressively okay with it.

The strongest part for me is how the erotic scenes actually grow out of dumb little story setups. There is a moment where the protagonist comes back from a failed mission, frustrated and feeling useless, and the older woman who runs the training grounds corners him in the storage room. She starts teasing him about “needing to relax his body before he can become a real protector” while she casually unlaces her top. He tries to keep the conversation about tactics, she keeps pushing it back to his dick. She gropes herself first, like she’s checking weapons, then grabs his cock through the pants and just holds it until you click forward, like the game is asking “ok, are we doing this?” and of course you are. The handjob there is not just some quick CG and done. She spits in her palm, jerks him off slow, tells him how heroes should know how to endure, speeds up when you beg. Her tits are smashed together in the shot and they are honestly too big, almost cartoonish, but the way the scene is written, it still lands. Then she drops to her knees and gives him this messy oral, deepthroating while still muttering about “proper breathing technique.” It is ridiculous and kind of perfect. Not everything hits, though. There are a few teasing scenes that feel copy pasted: girl “accidentally” sitting on your lap, grinding a little, pretending she did not notice your hard dick pressed against her ass. The game loves the “oops I fell on your cock” energy. Some of the faces in the 3dcg look weird from certain angles, like their eyes are slightly floating apart. Backgrounds can feel cheap. Also there is this milf character, the big protective type, supposedly worried about the village, but half of her dialogue is minor variations of “you have grown so strong” while staring straight at his crotch. She lets you grope her from behind while she’s cooking, then casually moves your hand from her hips up to her tits like she is teaching a child to hold a spoon. Does not fit her written personality at all, but porn writing has never been famous for consistency. Still, some smaller bits stay in my mind more than I expected: a moment where you wake up hard and a woman just silently slips under the blanket for a quick morning blowjob without any big story speech; a scene where you get caught staring at a big ass bent over in the training yard and instead of being angry, she demands you “prove your focus” by keeping eye contact while she guides your hand between her cheeks. It is clumsy, shameless, sometimes funny, and very much a game where being a “hero” mostly means surviving an onslaught of aggressive flirting and very hands-on lessons.

Christmas vibes hit weird when you’re staring at a thesis outline and end up getting throat-fucked by a futa professor in her office instead of working on chapter two. That’s kind of the mood of this game. You’re this 23-year-old guy, trying to be serious, new city, new life, all that adult responsibility bullshit, and then the game just keeps throwing you at these tall, thick futa MILFs and cocky younger futas who treat “career counseling” like a porn category. It feels like someone took a normal college dating sim, poured hot chocolate on it, spiked it with vodka, then forgot about the “wholesome” part halfway through. One moment you’re choosing research topics, next moment you’re on your knees under a desk, her balls brushing your chin while she keeps typing like nothing is happening. Very “welcome to adulthood, kiddo.”

What I liked most is how the teasing never feels rushed. You walk into the landlady’s kitchen in the morning, she’s in this lazy robe, tits half out, big round ass turning while she makes coffee, and instead of jumping straight into a fuck scene she just leans over, adjusts your tie, presses her body against you, and whispers stuff like “you know, rent is flexible… if you’re flexible too.” But she leaves. No payoff. You’re just left with that hard-on, trying to answer emails. Then a different futa texts you on some fake WhatsApp clone in the game, sends a pic of her feet on the table, toes with red polish, her cock in the background, like “which one you like more?” and you realise, oh, okay, they really want you to be a horny mess at all times. The first time I chose the “focus on work” option, the landlady actually got annoyed and stopped groping me for a while, which honestly hurt more than it should. I was staring at my screen like some desperate idiot, waiting for her to grab my ass again. It’s pathetic. I loved it. I hated it.

The sandbox part is funny. There’s this fake sense of freedom like, yeah, go to the library, meet this serious futa researcher who talks about methodology, wears glasses, looks all strict, and then suddenly her hand is between your legs in the quiet study area, palming your cock while she lectures you about time management. You try to move her hand away, she squeezes harder. At some point she casually pushes your head down under the desk and unzips, and what starts as “quick taste for motivation” turns into your mouth full of her, your jaw hurting, your eyes watering while students walk past. Nobody notices, of course, it’s that type of porn logic. Later there’s a scene where one of them uses your face as a footstool first, presses her soles on your cheeks, makes you lick between her toes before she even lets you touch her shaft. Honestly I didn’t expect the foot stuff to go that hard. Thought it would be just a quick fetish nod, but no, she presses her heel on your cock, makes you cum without even using her hands. And then complains you stained her stockings. The only thing that annoyed me was some tiny little UI button for changing locations that sits in the corner and I kept missing it, but anyway, the whole vibe is like a horny winter break that never ends, full of big tits, big asses, futa egos, and you, the poor guy who planned to write a thesis and instead became everyone’s stress-relief toy.