Movie Night feels like the kind of bad idea your dick thinks is genius. It starts harmless: you, your girl Louise, her little sister Holly, lazy evening on the couch, some random movie no one actually cares about, lights low, that kind of boring comfort vibe. Louise is glued to your side, Holly is on the other end, half watching, half scrolling her phone, wearing something that is technically “casual” but you instantly notice how her shorts ride up when she shifts. There is this slow, sticky tension that builds, not with big drama, just small shit: her knee touching yours a second too long, Louise’s fingers sliding under the blanket and you trying to keep a straight face while Holly is one meter away. You get those classic CG close ups on Louise’s small tits under her top, her lips brushing your ear while she pretends to whisper about the movie, but every sentence is actually an excuse to breathe on your neck and get your cock harder. It really nails that awkward, horny situation where you’re terrified of being caught and secretly praying you will.

At some point it just stops pretending this is about film night and turns into “how far can we go before she notices.” Louise is a fucking menace. She starts slow, rubbing you through your pants while Holly complains about the plot, and you’re sitting there choosing dialogue that decides if you play it safe or let your girl push you deeper into trouble. There is this one moment where Holly leans over to grab the popcorn and the game gives you a choice while her ass is right there and your dick is already being stroked under the blanket. You can almost hear Pornhub autoplay in your head. The cheating angle is weirdly honest too, because yeah, technically Louise is helping, but you’re absolutely eye-fucking her sister while she sits there, and some options let you go full scumbag. The art really loves the sisters’ bodies, especially when things finally cross the line and Holly notices something is off. That shock-embarrassment expression, then curiosity, then that “fuck it” face when she decides not to walk away. It goes from guilty handjobs and hidden touching to full-on threesome pile on the couch, with clothes half on, blankets kicked to the floor, and both girls competing for your attention like it’s some late-night porn fantasy Steam would never allow. It’s messy, a bit trashy, and the relationship stuff is just hanging there in the background like a ticking bomb, but honestly that makes it hotter. You are not the good guy here, and the game never really fixes that.

You arrive in this shiny new country thinking you’re some big brain office guy, right? Good job, clean contract, boring little grey cubicle, “fresh start” bullshit. Then the game pretty much slaps you in the face and reminds you you’re just another idiot who got a little too confident with the company money. One wrong spreadsheet, one little “adjustment,” and suddenly your whole life hangs on a few screenshots in someone else’s hands. It’s not “oh no, moral drama, what shall I do” either. It’s more like: here’s the trap, here’s your throat, and here’s the boot that’s going to rest on it while you jerk off and hate yourself. And the boot has painted toenails.

Home life is worse. Or better. Depends how broken you are. Your roommates are all too pretty and too relaxed about personal space. You think it’s a harem, but it’s actually a fucking HR complaint waiting to happen if anyone cared. They catch you staring. They don’t get shy. They get ideas. The game likes to take simple domestic stuff and twist it. You come home from the office, brain fried from trying not to get caught, and a girl is lying on the couch in tight gym shorts, one leg over the backrest, looking at you like she already read your browser history. She’s “innocently” asking how your day at work was, then suddenly she knows way too much about an “accounting error” and has a folder on her phone that sure as hell doesn’t look like memes. It’s not instant sex. It’s worse. It’s that slow “sit down, shut up, and listen to my conditions” smile. She’ll make you kneel in your own living room and call it a “test,” while the TV quietly plays some random show and you’re there, half hard, half terrified. There’s this one moment where she drags you to the gym under the excuse of “you’re getting soft,” and you think you’re just doing some squats. Next thing, you’re doing push-ups while she sits on your back, shorts riding up, whispering in your ear what will happen to those little files if your arms stop moving. People walk by. They see a trainer pushing a client hard. They don’t hear her telling you exactly how you’ll lick sweat from her toes later if you want your job.

The corruption stuff is where the game really doesn’t pretend to be nice. You start off trying to fight it, making these little choices like “I’ll resist, I’ll say no, I’ll be a man of principle,” and the narrative just smiles and shows you how cheap your principles are when your boss might see photos of you on your knees in the women’s locker room, holding a bra in your mouth because some smug girl told you that’s how dogs should carry things. The blackmail angle isn’t some side tag; it’s the spine. Every request is layered: “Touch me here, say this, sign that document, send this email.” Sexual humiliation gets tangled with office politics in this nasty way. You might be jerking off in a bathroom stall, watching a short clip of your roommate’s foot grinding into your face while she calls you her “little embezzling toy,” and at the same time you’re waiting on a message that decides if your career lives or dies. And yeah, the scenes get hardcore. There are CGs where your whole body language screams “I want to disappear” while your cock is straining against your pants, getting slapped, stepped on, used like a prop in their little power games. The girls don’t just dominate you physically; they dig into your shame, into that sick part of you that loves being treated like you’re lower than dirt. One of them makes you strip in the office after hours, under harsh neon lights, and she takes pictures with your own phone, giggling, then casually sets your wallpaper to your naked, collared self. Later, during a real meeting, you unlock the phone out of habit and almost drop it when the screen lights up. That’s the vibe: horny, uncomfortable, mean, and somehow you keep clicking “next” anyway.

At the heart of this tale is Thalna, a captivating girl who prowls beneath the surface, always stumbling headfirst into chaotic escapades. What sets her apart isn’t just her looks, she possesses a rare edge: fangs like a vampire’s flash in the night and her distinctive futanari form. Mystical creatures crawl quietly among us, they search relentlessly for potent artifacts scattered across the globe. Caught in the claws of this hidden world, getting ready to wield a mysterious artifact herself. It’s more than just getting by, it’s an intoxicating dive into lust, strength, and forbidden knowledge. Each step drags her closer to darker, more erotic confrontations. Take control as Thalna navigates heated moments dripping with tension and whispered promises, solving cryptic puzzles between steamy, explicit encounters. Forget what you think you know about quests, a raw fusion of supernatural allure and carnal exploration. Step inside and awaken the wild side that lurks within. Start your adventure and see just how far temptation can take you.

This thing is basically a filthy arcade joke that someone accidentally made kinda fun. You’re not dating anyone, there’s no fake romance, no long story about “finding yourself”. You literally fly a tiny pussy-shaped copter in first person and try to land it right on your cock. That’s it. That’s the high concept. It sounds stupid, and it is stupid, but in that “I’ll just try one more time” way. You’re looking from a POV angle, like you’re lying there, hard, and this ridiculous flying pussy is wobbling around the screen, getting closer, drifting away, vibrating like it’s horny but also drunk. Every time you get close, there’s this little thrill, like playing Flappy Bird if Flappy Bird wanted to sit on your dick and milk you.

It actually plays like an old mobile arcade thing you’d sneak during class, just with a blonde model moaning in your ear. Her face keeps showing up on screen, real girl, real body, not some anime drawing. She’s “controlling” the copter in-universe, doing this striptease as you get better. You fuck up and crash, she laughs or teases. You hold it steady, keep the pussycopter aligned, she starts losing clothes. The more precise you are, the more she strips. Nothing complicated, just that cheap “oh shit I’m close, don’t mess it up now” adrenaline layered with porn energy. There’s this one moment when you finally manage a perfect slow landing and the screen shakes, the sound spikes, she shivers and groans like you just hit some perfect angle, and it’s honestly way hotter than it deserves to be. And then next round you can’t even keep the thing straight for two seconds, it’s like your hands forgot how to function.

What made me laugh is how the game treats the whole “equivalent to 8 girls fucking you” thing like it’s totally normal. The way the climax minigame works, when you manage to touch down just right and hold it there, the audio ramps up in this crazy layered chorus of moans, like the same blonde is cloned eight times, all screaming over each other. It’s ridiculous and kind of overwhelming, like having Pornhub, xHamster and some sketchy popup all autoplay in different tabs at once. There’s no big tutorial, you just figure out the throttle and tilt by feeling it, like an actual dud trying to line himself up with someone for the first time and constantly missing the hole. Sometimes the physics feel janky as hell, the copter jitters for no reason, and on one attempt I swear the hitbox decided my dick was a ghost because I “landed” dead center and it still counted as a fail. But when the blonde arches her back, panties sliding down slooow while you’re fighting the controls to keep that pussy perfectly aligned with your POV shaft, you kinda forget you were annoyed. It’s trashy, cheap, completely obsessed with one stupid idea, and the only thing more funny than the concept is how surprisingly hard you try to nail that perfect landing just so the tiny flying pussy finally sits down on you and doesn’t take off again.