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.

It’s weird how this game starts like it’s pretending to care about plot. You think it’s about Tsunade gambling again, being her usual chaotic self, but nah - two minutes in and it just throws you into the mess. There’s this sense of shameless humor I kinda liked; it doesn’t even try to justify anything. She owes money, her solution involves clones, and everyone’s naked before you can blink. The sound effects are ridiculous - like someone mixed old arcade bleeps with wet noises, and somehow it works. I laughed, then got turned on, then laughed again. The rhythm feels accidental, like a loop someone forgot to trim, but that’s part of the charm. You can almost imagine some guy in 2008 coding it while blasting Eurobeat in the background.

What I didn’t expect was how expressive the faces are. Not polished, but raw in that flash‑era way where every exaggerated blink feels hand‑made. Tsunade’s boobs take up half the screen, sure, but her grin sells it more than the physics. I caught myself clicking too fast just to see if the clones would glitch out - and they did, kind of melting together mid‑animation. It’s oddly beautiful, like a broken GIF that refuses to die. The Raikage scene hits different - too fast, too much flexing, but there’s this energy, like two powerhouses trying to out‑moan each other. I remember thinking, “this shouldn’t be hot,” and yet.

Story? Barely there. But the pacing keeps you hooked, because it’s never just sex - it’s comedy wrapped around sweat. I like that it doesn’t moralize; it just exists, messy and loud. The cumshot ending lands with a splat that feels almost celebratory. Would I call it art? Maybe not. But it’s got that same rough soul as old chiptunes - imperfect loops, dirty fun, no pretense. You finish it and kinda want to replay, even though you know every beat. Maybe that’s nostalgia, or maybe I’m just into stupidly honest smut. Either way, it lingers.

Tifa looks like she took a wrong turn in Midgar and ended up in the horniest biology lab on Pornhub. No saving the planet here, she’s basically reduced to “premium milk source with attitude,” strapped into this creepy-but-sexy milk plant where everything is built around one thing: squeeze more out of those ridiculous tits. The game doesn’t pretend to be subtle. You get her tied up in all these positions that look half like torture rack, half like weird spa machine, and the whole interface feels like someone put a Final Fantasy mod inside a dairy fetish dream. You poke, pull, pump, shove toys in places, watch the milk pour, and the game just keeps rewarding you for being a complete perv. And yes, she’s moaning like she can’t decide if she wants to punch you or beg for another round. That’s basically the main kink here: she’s helpless, bound tight, but her body’s betraying her.

The fun part is how the game treats her boobs like some unstable magic materia. You push her too hard and she’s squirming, the tits swelling bigger, veins showing a bit, dripping like someone turned on a hidden tap. You slow down and tease with a dildo or fingers, and you get this lazy milking flow that looks almost peaceful, which honestly is creepier because she’s still chained to some metal frame like a captured monster. Sometimes the plant’s machines do part of the work for you, those cold-looking suction cups and tubes that clamp around her nipples and just start pulling, and your job is more like “adjust the cruelty level.” One tiny slider up, she gasps and the milk blasts out, another tiny push, now she’s in that thin line where pleasure and pain mix and the sounds get filthy. There’s this one sequence where they bend her over, spread her, and you’re stuffing an anal dildo inside while the milker tugs on her breasts at the same time, and it honestly feels like you’re juggling three fetishes while trying not to break the toy. The animations when she arches her back and milk sprays over her own belly are the kind of thing people screenshot and send on Discord like “ok I’m going to hell for this.”

What stays in your head after you close the tab is not even the hardcore stuff, weirdly. It’s that small detail when you press on her swollen boob and the areola looks tight and shiny right before the milk leaks out, like the whole breast is about to burst if you don’t let it go. The sound of the machine sucking is low and wet, kind of too close to your ear if you play with headphones, and the voice lines loop in a way that makes you think of those old Flash games, a bit cheap, but that almost adds to the charm. I still hate the tiny little UI arrow in the corner that looks like it should do something important and basically does nothing, and I kept clicking it like an idiot. The game doesn’t really care about plot, just throws Tifa in there, treats her like the “perfect specimen,” and says, here, make her give you more. And you do. Not because it’s deep or whatever, but because there’s this nasty satisfaction in seeing how far that milk plant will push her body, how much those soft brown nipples can take before they’re dripping non-stop. It’s wrong, it’s hot, and it kind of feels like someone took that one Tifa hentai you saw years ago and decided, yeah, let’s make it interactive and way more fucked up.

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.