It’s a weird kind of wrong that feels almost too confident about itself. The game just throws you right into this hotel-room-styled tension between Ben and Gwen, like there’s no excuse, no build-up, just quiet breathing and the kind of slow curiosity that only gets worse the more you watch. The control scheme is barely there - you think you’re just clicking around to peek, but then you’re moving hands and lips like you’re trying to pass off an accident as an experiment. The pacing makes it feel like time stretches sideways. There’s that one moment where Gwen turns, half-asleep, and it’s not clear if she knows what’s happening, and you catch yourself leaning closer like a total creep. God help me, I think that’s intentional.

Half the time the audio feels too loud, but maybe that’s the point - it’s not polished, like it’s meant to break the “cartoon world” with uncomfortable realism. The blowjob scene looks like it was stitched together by someone who didn’t care about pretty, just raw motion, the way her throat tightens around him while he mutters things that sound more like apologies than dirty talk. And then when you switch to doggystyle, yeah it’s cliché, but the way the lighting flickers - it’s distracting as hell and, weirdly, kind of hypnotic. The game’s rhythm keeps screwing with you: it slows down on the heavy stuff like missionary creampie and then speeds up when you least expect, like the code itself is embarrassed about what it’s showing. I got annoyed at that. Then again, maybe that’s why I didn’t stop.

You can tell whoever made this knew exactly what nostalgia they were playing with, too. There’s this sick mix of childhood memory and adult hunger that no one wants to admit enjoying. Kind of like watching something too close to a secret. The handjob bit feels almost shy, then the facial lands out of nowhere, breaking the build-up in the most abrupt, stupidly real way. I hate that it worked. I hate that my mouse hand twitched even after the final loop restarted. If that’s not the most human reaction, I don’t know what is.

Moon looks like she walked out from some innocent Saturday morning show, but this thing grabs her and smears filth all over that soft, pastel vibe. She’s got that classic Pokemon-hero energy, bright eyes, sailor style, all “let’s go on an adventure,” and then suddenly the only adventure is how deep a huge black cock can disappear inside a tiny teen hole. It feels dirty in a way that’s half trashy porn, half weird fan letter. The scene is like a little shrine built for people who always wondered what was under that skirt while pretending to care about catching monsters. And yeah, the answer is: a tight pussy that doesn’t stay innocent for more than two clicks, and a butt that ends up being the real main character.

The way everything is laid out, your mouse turns into this greedy fingertip, always hunting for one more spot to press, one more reaction to pull out of her. Touch her here and she blushes, touch her there and suddenly you’re opening her legs, lining up that heavy shaft with her slit, watching her face turn from “oops” to “fuck me” in a couple of lazy frames. It pretends to give you choice, like pussy or ass is some deep moral moment, but honestly the game just keeps whispering “put it in her ass, you know you want to see that” until you do it. Once you slide into her butt, that’s when the whole thing clicks: she’s this tiny trainer trying to handle a final boss between her cheeks, and the way her body stretches around it is absurd and kind of funny and hot at the same time. I caught myself grinning like an idiot when the first thick thrust pushed her forward, like she almost wanted to crawl off the screen.

There’s this one small background thing that drove me crazy. You’re there, happily wrecking her, already thinking about how much cum you’ll paint her with at the end, and then you notice some little hidden surprise you can poke. Suddenly her chest starts swelling, soft little bumps turning into huge anime tits that look almost too big for her thin body, like two moons orbiting the girl called Moon. It’s stupid. It’s perfect. She’s got this dazed look, tiny waist, huge rack, ass already used up, and your cock still pulsing inside. When you finally hit that cumshot, it’s not just a lazy splash. It pours over her like you broke some internal dam: white streaks on her face, dripping down those new breasts, pooling in her navel, sticky lines across her thighs. It feels less like “rewarding” her and more like claiming the whole screen, turning this sweet Nintendo girl into a used hentai canvas. And if you’re like me, you sit there, cursor hovering, thinking “ok I’m done,” and then you click again, just to watch the animation one more time, because something about seeing that little trainer coated, stretched, and ruined is way more hypnotic than you want to admit.

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.

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