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.

Golden-haired vixen Samus Aran wandered along a sun-drenched beach wearing a tiny, teasing swimsuit when suddenly she was violently seized by playful tentacles. Her arms and legs were pinned in a cruel embrace around the rough bark, as slick, eager tentacles slid all over her curves.

You take charge of this wild encounter. Undress the busty beauty with a flick of your finger. Use the X-ray vision to expose what's hidden beneath. Push every boundary with your twisted desires.

Choose between tendrils sliding deep into her dripping cunt or the thick cock driving relentlessly into her tight backdoor, nothing is off limits in this explicit playground. Her heavy tits jiggle as she moans louder, her insides flooding with hot cum again and again.

Bound and exposed, Samus becomes a fantasy ripe for domination. Force her into brutal anal punishment soaked in passion. Watch her scream as creampie after creampie spills inside.

Take control of a luscious, blonde futanari version of Samus and let your fantasies run wild. Customize every filthy scenario and execute your vulgar dreams.

Lose yourself in the primal lust of tentacle domination and endless debauchery. Make the luscious Samus your slave for infinite nights of filthy fun.

It starts like some dumb trivia thing, you know? A quiz about pirates and anime girls with tits too perfect to exist. You think it’s harmless, just answering questions about ships, Devil Fruits, whatever. But then the pictures start coming up - Nami bending over a treasure chest, that little smirk on her lips like she knows exactly what you’re doing behind your screen. I laughed at first, like, this is so trashy. And then I kept clicking. Every right answer pulls another layer off her, or Robin, or sometimes both, tangled in something that feels more like a fantasy scribbled in the corner of a sketchbook than an actual game. It’s ridiculous how fast you forget the “quiz” part and start chasing the next image, like you’re earning them instead of just watching porn.

The art looks hand-drawn by someone who really loves these women - too much maybe. Robin’s hips look heavy, soft, like they’d move slow if she was riding you. Nami’s red hair catches every fake highlight, but somehow it works; it makes her look sweaty, alive. There’s one animation hidden deep in the harder level where she’s taking it rough, face covered in cum, and even though it’s obviously exaggerated, there’s something filthy-sweet about it. Like she’s still teasing you mid-blowjob. I don’t even like hentai quizzes (who invented that?), but this one got me because it plays like a strip tease for nerds. Answer wrong and she stays dressed, mocking you. Answer right and she rewards you in the dirtiest way possible.

Weirdly, it made me think about lingerie design. The way fabric hides just enough skin, same logic here - each click peels back another secret. I kind of wish the sound effects weren’t so cheap, but maybe that’s part of its charm. It’s not pretending to be classy. It’s raw, loud, horny, and yeah, probably made by someone who hasn’t touched grass in years. Still, I’d wear something inspired by Nami’s final scene: orange silk, messy ribbon, nothing left to imagine.

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.