There’s something weirdly hypnotic about the way this whole thing opens - like the scene just melts you into their space, no preamble, no “hey, press start for smut,” just that slow tension simmering before anything actually happens. The animation rolls smoother than I expected; nothing clunky. It has that feel of a private fantasy someone animated out of pure obsession instead of for clicks. You can almost hear Ben’s breath hitch before he even touches her. It’s not really about plot (I mean come on, who’s pretending it is?), but there’s this messed-up sweetness in how it starts quiet. The sound design keeps pulling you back: tiny sighs, sheets brushing skin, the rhythm faint at first and then snapping hard once hands stop pretending to be innocent. Somewhere between awkward cousin tension and full-on porn logic, the thing just… lets go.

The best part, surprisingly, is the pacing - it doesn’t rush. When Gwen shifts under his touch, her body language says everything before any actual thrusting begins. And yeah, once it gets explicit - cowgirl with those slow hips, doggystyle with his fingers gripping too tight, that sloppy blowjob that looks *too* practiced - it’s impossible not to notice how much effort went into animating every drool line. There’s texture everywhere, like somebody cared too much about skin catching the light. I still think the facial scene goes a bit overboard (there’s a point where it looks more like performance art than sex), but maybe that’s the charm? Also, sidebar: whoever picked the moan layer nailed it, that muffled little catch right before the creampie hits - pure serotonin.

Story-wise, it barely exists, yet it feels weirdly believable because the silence between them carries guilt and hunger at the same time. No silly popups telling you what position next, just eyes, movement, friction, that loop where they keep testing boundaries without admitting it. I swore I’d stop watching after one run, but there’s something magnetic about how shameless it gets by the end, like watching a dream that doesn’t know how to filter itself anymore.

Raven finally snapped in this one, and honestly, it’s beautiful in the worst possible way. Forget the usual brooding goth mage who saves Jump City and complains about emotions. Here she’s basically turned her room into a magical porn lab and decided the best way to fix her mood is to mass produce more of herself and then ruin every version from the inside out. It starts off almost calm: dark room, candles, that familiar vibe from the tower, and then the camera pans and you realize, oh, there’s not one Raven here, there’s a whole damn lineup. Different outfits, slightly different expressions, same purple hair, same smug “I know exactly what you’re staring at” look. Some of them already naked, some still pretending they’re wearing clothes for a reason. Then you notice the important upgrade: every clone packing stupidly big cock that clearly isn’t there for show. She basically turned herself into both the casting couch and the entire cast.

The pacing is kind of wild. There’s zero build-up to “respectable foreplay.” One Raven on her knees choking herself on another Raven’s dick, smeared mascara, eyes rolling, and in the back you can see two more clones going full anal pileup like it’s a group project nobody planned but everybody passes anyway. It does that thing where the camera lingers way too long on the throat bulge when she’s deepthroating, like it wants you to count how many inches disappeared. And it keeps cutting between angles so you get this weird whiplash: one second you’re watching her being pinned face-first into the sheets, getting pounded in her ass while someone else feeds her cock, next second you’re staring at a Raven stroking herself, waiting her turn, cum already drying on her tits because she got there early. The bukkake scenes hit like a messed up ritual: half-circle of futa Ravens around one poor, smug original, all jerking, then she gets painted completely, white on purple, dripping off her chin, sticking in her hair, and she looks genuinely happy for once. Or possessed. Hard to tell with her.

It leans hard into the whole “I don’t need anyone else, I’ll fuck myself” vibe, which is weirdly on-brand for Raven. She’s basically her own gangbang. Her own harem. Her own humiliation arc. You get anal, oral, stacked penetration where she’s plugged in every hole like some cursed magic artifact, and they don’t shy away from showing that everything stretches and throbs and pulses in a way that’s actually a bit too honest. Some shots are messy as hell, like whoever framed them just wanted to zoom on the veins of that big cock and forgot there’s a whole body attached. And then you get these little moments, like a Raven clone wiping cum off another’s lips with her thumb and then pushing the same thumb back into her mouth, casual as drinking coffee. It’s not romantic. It’s not “sexy story with feelings.” It’s just a goth sorceress locked in a feedback loop of cloning, using, and filling her own clones until the whole room looks like a sticky magic disaster. And somehow, that fits her more than half the “serious” fan stories out there.

Nico Robin's body is craving attention at every moment, and now you've got the chance to worship her in ways you’ve only dreamed of. This hentai game throws you straight into their twisted world of desire, where you take control of every sinful touch and tease. But beware - all the text here is in Japanese, so if your skills at reading the language aren’t sharp, you’ll have to rely on instincts to pick your moves. For those who do know Japanese, the gameplay offers freedom to choose exactly how to indulge Nico Robin’s sumptuous body. Your arsenal includes a wide range of sexual actions from gentle touches to more daring provocations, designed to bring Nico Robin maximum pleasure. This isn't just about pleasure - the fans want their idol pushed to her limits, making every encounter charged with raw anticipation. Expect thick moments of rough sex, anal teasing, and relentless masturbation that turn up the heat between you and the dark-haired seductress. Everything is framed by the seductive world of "One Piece," twisting familiar characters into a bawdy playground of adult fantasy. You’ve got nothing to lose - slip inside this hentai flash game where interactive touching and raw sex combine into a fierce saga of obedience and ecstasy. The sooner you start, the quicker the delight of bending Nico Robin to your wicked will floods the screen.

You ever start a game thinking it’s just another parody and then suddenly you’re watching Delia Ketchum bend over a lab table like she’s about to teach anatomy class the hard way? Yeah, that’s this one. It starts all innocent - Pallet Town, sunshine, that “I overslept again” energy - and then, bam, you’re in Professor Oak’s lab snooping through his stuff and learning he’s been researching... let’s just say “human-pokemon compatibility” in a way no academic journal would publish. The tone flips faster than a Tinder match gone wrong. One second you’re pretending to care about rare species, next second you’re covered in way more than curiosity.

Delia, though - holy hell. They made her look like the definition of “MILF who knows exactly what she’s doing.” She’s got that soft mom energy but says things that would make even Team Rocket blush. The scenes with her feel weirdly personal, like the game’s reading your dirty thoughts out loud. There’s a part where she leans in too close, her voice dripping honey and sin, and you just *know* this isn’t about Pokémon anymore. The writing’s cheeky as hell, half jokes, half filthy confessions, and somehow it works. You’ll laugh, you’ll groan, you’ll maybe question your childhood a little.

The pacing’s messy in that good kind of way - it doesn’t care about logic, just about pushing you deeper into its horny fever dream. You might roll your eyes at the story, but then the next scene hits and suddenly you’re invested in seeing how far the “research” goes. Controls? Who even cares, you’ll figure ‘em out with one hand anyway. It’s trashy, it’s fun, and it’s got that nostalgic kick twisted into something you definitely can’t talk about in polite company. Kind of like if Pokémon grew up, got divorced, and started posting thirst traps at 2 a.m. on Twitter.