Dr. Amana’s office has this weird beige wallpaper that looks like it remembers the 70s and refuses to let go. I kept staring at it during the boring intro text. You play this sexual therapist, right, and your first patient Roger is a complete disaster of a man. The kind of guy who probably thinks axe body spray is foreplay. His problem is he can’t get it up, or maybe he just never learned what a clitoris is, the game is vague but honestly it doesn’t matter. You’re here for the hentai CGs.

And look, the art is rough. I mean really rough. Like someone discovered digital coloring last week and got a little too excited with the airbrush tool. Areola the size of dinner plates. Anatomy that makes you wonder if the artist has ever seen a naked person outside of other porn games. But here’s the thing, it reminded me of the first time I stumbled onto one of those flash sites, back when newgrounds was still king and you’d click through fifty horrible ads just to see a single static image of some elf with tits bigger than her head. That feeling of finding something you weren’t supposed to see, even though the whole site was built for exactly that. Dr. Amana has that energy. Unpolished, a little broken, strangely sincere.

The therapy sessions are basically just clicking through dialogue until the clothes come off. Amana says some vaguely psychological stuff, Roger mumbles, and then suddenly there’s a fully explicit shot of her riding him on the therapy couch. I wish there was more build up, maybe some weird dream sequences or something. The whole thing is over fast. Seven clients total but I only messed with the first one before my attention span fried. The text has typos that made me chuckle, like “penis” spelled “pennis” at one point. Freudian slip maybe. I dunno. It’s a mess. A horny, nostalgic mess. The kind you close real quick when you hear someone walking down the hall, even though you’re a grown adult in your own apartment.