Eroriman 2 Episode 3

Review of Eroriman 2 Episode 3

Right as the screen flickers on, I’m hit square in the face with Riri-chan’s voice cracking through some half-hearted insult—“Tiny phimosis prick!”—and I’m already choking on my own spit, caught between a cackle and a full-body flush. What even is this dialogue? It’s like the writers raided a locker room argument and just slapped it onto a high school girl with a rack that defies gravity, jiggling with every syllable like they’ve got their own personal earthquake. I’m sitting here, jaw half-dropped, not sure if I’m turned on by the sheer audacity of her sass or just stunned at how her skirt barely contains the chaos underneath. Three minutes in, and I’m already sweating—her sharp little glares, those pouty lips spitting venom, it’s like she’s daring me through the screen to say something back. My heart’s thumping like I just sprinted up a hill, and I’m not even sorry about it.

Boobs That Could Launch a Thousand Ships—and Then Some

Let’s talk about the absolute weaponry that is Riri-chan’s chest in this episode, because holy hell, the animators went feral. Every scene she’s in, those massive, impossibly round tits are practically a character of their own—bouncing with a life force that should come with a physics textbook. There’s this one moment, around the 10-minute mark, where some bastard is just groping away, and you can *see* the flesh spill between his fingers, all soft and heavy, like overripe fruit begging to be bitten. The way they ripple with every rough squeeze, the faint sheen of sweat—or whatever liquid the animators decided to bless us with—catching the light? I’m gripping my chair so hard I might leave claw marks. It’s not just hot; it’s borderline hypnotic, like I’m being sucked into a vortex of pure, unadulterated lust. I’m reminded of this one summer fling where I couldn’t stop staring at a girl’s curves in a tight tank top—same vibe, except this time it’s 2D and somehow ten times more obscene. I’m not proud, but I’m not looking away either.

Blow Job Bonanza: Throat-Deep in Drama

Then we get to the oral scene—oh man, around 19 minutes in, where Riri’s forced to her knees, and I swear the sound design alone is gonna haunt me. The wet, sloppy glucks, the muffled little gasps as she struggles to breathe, it’s so raw I’m half-convinced my headphones are leaking sin into the room. Her eyes are all teary, wide with this mix of defiance and desperation, lips stretched tight around him, and the way her throat visibly bulges with every thrust? I’m a mess. My palms are sweaty, my brain’s short-circuiting with this weird mix of guilt and hunger—like, I shouldn’t be this into her distress, but the way her voice breaks into a choked whimper when he growls, “I can’t breathe, it’s reaching my throat,” it’s doing things to me I can’t even name. It’s like hearing a forbidden secret whispered right in your ear, all hot and messy. I’ve got this dumb memory popping up of sneaking adult mags as a teen, hiding under my bed with a flashlight, feeling this same illicit rush. Except now it’s animated, and somehow louder in every way. If the voice actress didn’t get a bonus for those noises, I’m staging a protest.

Creampie Chaos: Messy, Sticky, Unforgivable

Don’t even get me started on the creampie scenes—plural, because this episode doesn’t hold back on the internal fireworks. Around 17-18 minutes, there’s this brutal, relentless pounding with Riri-chan, her legs trembling like she’s about to collapse, and the dude just unloads inside her with no remorse. The animation lingers on it, this slow, dripping aftermath as she gasps, “A lot of uncle’s semen is being poured inside me!” and I’m sitting here, face burning, because the way they draw that thick, white overflow trickling down her thighs, glistening against her flushed skin, is straight-up pornographic art. It’s not just the visual; it’s her shaky, broken moans—like she’s half-lost, half-loving it—that hit me right in the gut. I’m remembering this one time I got too caught up in a hookup, the raw heat of skin on skin, the messy, sticky aftermath, and how it felt both wrong and perfect. This scene cranks that memory to eleven, except with schoolgirl skirts and a level of depravity I didn’t know I needed until now. I’m torn between fanning myself and questioning my entire existence.

Schoolgirl Shenanigans: Innocence? What’s That?

The whole schoolgirl angle in this episode is a fever dream of corruption, and I’m here for every second of it. Riri-chan and the other girls in their tiny uniforms—skirts so short they’re basically a suggestion—strutting around, getting into situations that make zero sense outside of pure fantasy, it’s like the animators are daring you to look away. There’s this bit at 25 minutes where one of them is getting railed in what’s supposed to be the school nurse’s office, her pleated skirt hiked up, thigh-highs slipping down, and her cries of “No, don’t do that!” are so half-hearted you know she’s lying to herself. The contrast of that pristine uniform against the absolute filth of what’s happening, her pale legs quivering, the desk creaking under them—it’s like every naughty school fantasy I’ve ever had got tossed into a blender and poured out in vivid color. I’m laughing at how absurdly over-the-top it is, but also, uh, not laughing, because my pulse is racing like I just ran a marathon. The music even kicks in with this sleazy little synth beat right at the climax, and somehow that makes it dirtier. I’m a goner.

By the end of this episode, I’m a wreck—emotionally, physically, spiritually, you name it. I’m staring at the screen as the “Next Time” teaser rolls, muttering to myself about how I’m probably gonna rewatch that creampie scene at least three more times before I sleep. Or maybe I won’t sleep at all, because who needs rest when your brain’s replaying Riri-chan’s choked gasps on loop? I’m half-tempted to scribble down timestamps for my favorites, like some kinda perverted archivist, and half wondering if I’ve finally crossed a line even I didn’t know existed. If anyone asks, I’m blaming this episode for everything—my racing heart, my weird dreams tonight, the fact I’m probably gonna be useless at work tomorrow. Send help. Or don’t. I’m not sure I want to be saved.