You wake up on this ugly rust bucket of a fishing ship, wearing an orange sweater that keeps trying to crawl up over your borrowed tits, and everyone is calling you Vilma like that is totally normal. You know that feeling when you're lying to every single person in the room and your dick is half hard at the same time? Yeah, that feeling is basically the whole game. The dev clearly loves Halloween junk and classic mystery cartoons, but everything is twisted just enough that it looks like the cheap porn parody DVD you find in the wrong section of the store. Scrooby keeps shivering, Saggy looks like he smells like wet dog and weed, and you are the “smart girl” with the big ass who is supposed to solve a murder in five minutes or get blown the fuck up by some letter bomb. And of course the real Vilma is naked and tied up in a storage room, annoyed, horny, and way too clever for her own good.

The fun part is how the timer hangs over your head while you are trying to decide if you should drag another clue out of Nymphne with actual logic or just bend her over a crate and fuck her until she starts talking. I wasted two full runs trying to see how much I could get away with before the bomb went off, just speedrunning bad decisions. Took me a bit to realize the “deduction table” is not just flavor text. You slap evidence on it like a crazy wall, except instead of red string you have your cock and some pretty mean dialog options. One run I focused only on interrogations, squeezed Ford until he spilled half the plot, solved the murder like some nerd god, and then realized I had barely touched Vilma in the hold. Next run I did the opposite: ignored half the questions, kept going back downstairs, playing good cop / very bad cop with her. Her reaction when you pretend to be her, while she is tied up and watching you strip off “her” sweater, is nasty in the best way. Also, the jiggle in some of the animated loops is honestly stupid good, then on the next scene a hand looks like it was drawn by someone using a mousepad in a bus. It made me laugh, then still made me horny, which is kind of impressive and also annoying.

What really sold me is how the voyeur stuff is baked into the whole structure. You’re pretending to be the smartest girl on the ship while the real one is naked furniture in the next room, and the game keeps tempting you to leave her there just a little longer so you can wander around and peek at everybody’s secrets. I kept pausing on the same detail: her glasses. When you put them on and walk into an interrogation, people suddenly trust you, but you know they actually belong to the girl who is currently gagged and getting her ass toyed with below deck. The contrast between playing the clever detective and then going downstairs to use her like a cum-dump clue dispenser is filthy in a way screenshots don’t show. Some of the humor hits hard too, like when Saggy tries to tell you he “respects women” while staring at your chest, or when Scrooby freaks out at the idea of anal like that is somehow worse than the murder. I had one run where I solved the case perfectly, unlocked a fancy sex scene with Nymphne, then realized I had missed a tiny conditional flag in the storage room so the Vilma finale variant didn’t trigger and I actually growled at my monitor. Still going back to clean up those last few CGs like a pervert completionist.

This one feels like somebody took a messy soap opera about the neighbor block, put it in a blender with porn, then forgot to put the lid on. In a good way. You play this dude who is basically surrounded by walking trouble: thick schoolgirls in tight uniforms, a couple of milfs with asses that should be illegal, and that whole “totally not appropriate family thing” that adult games like to wink at while actually going all in on it. The game pretends to care about morals and jealousy and all that classy stuff, but then suddenly you are watching your own “relative” bend over at the kitchen sink and the only moral question is how many angles you can peek from. There is so much voyeur stuff going on that I literally caught myself leaning closer to my monitor like it would help. Curtain slightly open? You can see her in her room, lying on the bed, phone in one hand, the other slowly sliding under her shorts. The camera just sits there and lets the whole masturbation scene breathe, little movements, thighs tensing, belly soft and jiggly when she arches. It is not subtle at all and honestly I respect that.

What really hits my kawaii collector brain is how soft everything looks. The girls are not stick thin, they got round bellies when they sit down, big tits that spill out of bras, and those huge asses that stretch their skirts in the back so there is always that tiny shadow line under the fabric when they bend. Some of them have that smug smile and half-lidded eyes that scream “I know you are staring, perv” and yes, I was. The 3D style here is a bit rough sometimes, like you notice odd finger poses or weird shadows on a cheek, but it kind of makes it feel more… real? Like those amateur porn pics on old forums where the light is bad but the girl is crazy hot anyway. One scene in the school corridor, the protagonist “accidentally” bumps and his hand lands right on a big soft chest. You get this quick groping animation, her tits bounce once, her face goes from shocked to annoyed to flustered so fast it made me laugh. And right after, you are in this heavy talk about who cheated on who and who is using who for revenge. The story keeps pretending to be serious drama, but I was mostly there waiting to see which girl would snap and jump his bones next.

The neighborhood vibe works really well. You see the same characters from windows, from classrooms, from the street. One night I was just clicking around and noticed a faint light in a window. Zoomed in and, boom, one of the milfs on the sofa, skirt hiked, hand between her big thighs, watching some cheesy romance on TV and grinding slow against her own fingers. You can’t join, only watch, and somehow that made it spicier. There is humor too, kind of stupid but in a charming way: the protagonist making lame excuses, one of the older women calling him out on staring at her ass, then later clearly giving him “accidental” views in yoga pants. I only really got annoyed at the tiny stuff, like a character blinking too fast, or a pose that looks a bit stiff in the middle of a hot grope, but then the camera cuts to a close shot of a nipple pushing against thin fabric and I forget I was even complaining. To really enjoy it, I say play slowly, don’t rush the choices. Linger on the windows, check rooms at different times, and when a scene lets you just watch a girl touch herself, stop clicking for a bit and let it run. This game rewards being a patient, horny creep more than a speedrunner.

Empire of Heroes looks like somebody smashed Pornhub, a Marvel fanfic subreddit and a horny DeviantArt gallery into one long fever dream, then forgot to hire an editor. You start as this dude who is technically a “hero,” but honestly he feels more like a guy who spends half his time saving the city and the other half trying not to stare at boobs that look like they could file for citizenship on their own. The world is packed with powered people, but almost everyone you actually talk to either wants to punch you, ride you, or both in some weird order. One second you’re in a rooftop fight where your power is going off like a bugged-out Discord notification, next second you’re flirting with a girl whose costume has less fabric than my old gym socks. The mood keeps jumping from dramatic comic-book speech to “fuck me on this couch before the villain shows up,” which sounds bad, but somehow it kind of works, like watching The Boys on mute with Pornhub audio in the background.

The big charm is how dirty and stupidly playful it gets without pretending to be classy. There’s this scene where you rescue a heroine who’s supposed to be this serious, veteran type, and ten lines later she’s teasing you about how “stress relief” is part of a hero’s duty while she grinds on your lap in a torn suit. The camera is obsessed with asses, not gonna lie. Every time a woman turns around the angle zooms like it was made by a guy who grew up pausing Netflix to stare. Some choices matter too: if you act like a cocky bastard, some girls actually like it and push back, if you try to be “good guy” hero, you still end up with your face between huge tits half the time. Fights are there mostly to justify why everyone is half naked afterward, covered in dust and barely holding their tops together. It’s less “tactical combat” and more “foreplay with punching.” At one point I paused my Spotify because the sex scene was actually hotter than the porn I had open in another tab, which is a weird moment of self awareness.

What kills me is how the story pretends to be super serious with mystery and conspiracies, then throws in a joke about hentai or some meme-tier line like “this is not even my final form” during a boss fight, then five minutes later you’re balls deep in a villain girl with glowing eyes and a laugh that should not be turning me on. The humor is very internet: horny, dumb, sometimes cringe, occasionally perfect. They drop little in-jokes about OnlyFans, Twitter cancel mobs, even some cheap shot about people who still use Facebook, and all of that is happening while your character is trying not to explode in a woman with thighs like a Marvel budget. Not everything hits; some scenes drag, there are times where two girls argue like a bad CW show and you just want them to shut up and start making out already. The pacing is a mess, like eating a full pizza and then suddenly someone throws a cake at your face, but when the game leans fully into “superhero soap opera where everyone is horny and slightly unhinged,” it kind of nails exactly that trashy, late-night energy that makes you think “ok, one more scene” and then you realize your right hand hurts more than your mouse.

Kid with fresh trauma, dead parents, and a brain full of horny daydreams gets invited to live with his own fantasy: the hot teacher with the perfect ass who always leans over the desk just a bit too far. On paper it sounds like a pity offer, right? “Stay with my family until things get better.” In reality it’s more like dropping him into a jungle of polite smiles, fake kindness and a milf who knows damn well every boy in class stares at her tits. He hesitates, because her son is that asshole from school who steals lunch money and calls everyone loser. But she looks at him with those soft eyes, that tight blouse, and suddenly sleeping under the same roof as the bully’s mom feels like a sin that’s worth burning for. Of course he says yes. Hormones are stronger than common sense.

The house is not normal. You notice it first in the little things. The way the “big brother” talks on the phone like he’s ordering a beating instead of pizza. The quiet guys in suits who show up, bow, and pretend they’re just business partners. The way the teacher, this kind of warm, patient woman at school, turns cold and sharp in the kitchen when she’s whispering about “problems that must vanish.” It’s a yakuza nest with homework on the table and a mom who cooks curry while wearing a skirt that barely hides her thick hips. While the son acts like he owns the world, the new boy starts sliding under his shadow, sneaking glances at his mom’s curves, her heavy breasts bouncing when she walks from the bathroom in a towel, the outline of her pussy barely covered, like she’s forgotten someone else lives there now. Or maybe she didn’t forget at all. Hard to say.

At school, the drama looks like a stupid romance anime at first. Teasing in the hallway, cheap jokes, girls whispering that the new boy is “so tragic, poor thing” while staring at his crotch when they think he doesn’t notice. There’s this weird humor in how people flirt with him. One classmate acts innocent, then asks very detailed questions about what he thinks of older women, then pretends it was a joke. Another girl “accidentally” falls on his lap in the library and he ends up with her ass pressed on his dick while she giggles, way too happy. But the real mindfuck happens back home, late, when the door is slightly open and the teacher is in her bedroom, touching herself while watching some shitty romance movie on her tablet, her moans soft at first, then deeper, and he just stands there, hard as rock, listening. Later she pretends nothing happened, serving breakfast like normal, but her hand lingers too long when she passes him the jam. One evening she helps him study and somehow her cleavage is almost in his face, her perfume sweet and thick in his lungs, and he finally snaps, kisses her, expecting a slap. Instead she kisses back, slow, hungry, like she’s been waiting, her tongue teasing, her lips wet. Clothes go missing. Her big tits are in his hands, heavy and warm, nipples hard, and he ends up buried inside her on the sofa, her moans low so the rest of the house doesn’t hear, her body pushing back into every deep thrust. She rides him later, straddling him in the dark, whispering “don’t cum yet” then pulling him in deeper until he fills her, creampie after creampie, while she clenches around him like she owns his soul. Around all that, the yakuza tension keeps rising, jealousy grows, and more women start circling him like he’s fresh meat in a bloody family war, but he still keeps sneaking into her room like an addict who only needs one drug: the bully’s mom, spread on her bed, legs open, ready for another round.