Alas, no. If we aren’t mentioning such sordid shenanigans as the repertoire of genital-wrestling sexy-sex flash games on chickswithdicks.com and suchlike (and we aren’t, because there’s no need for Mrs Egotastic to determine why we erase our browser history every fifteen minutes), there’s a great dearth of x-rated capers within the gaming spectrum. Where, then, do we manfolk turn for our digital dick, our virtual vag, our pixellated penis? It’s a query that every modern man demands an answer to. They may allege that they don’t, and even perform a little middle finger-waving don’t know what the hell you’re talking about dance; but they deceive nobody.
Japan, the Land of the Rising Wang, is a bastion of gaming pervitude, dispensing a copious array of eroge (‘erotic games’). Primarily, this is the caliber of crazy that naught but several consecutive showers could expunge, and suspending your brain in a solution of shame-soap wouldn’t remove. Since the eighties, we’ve been subjected to such wonderment as Danchi Tsuma no Yuwaku, which (we’re reliably informed) translates rather hazily to Seduction of the Condominium Wife.
Which sounds, we’ll concede, rather fantastic. Perhaps we can go to her condominium home and spout appalling hackneyed porn dialogue in her general direction! (“Hey, I’m the handyman. But I’m not here to dick around with your drain, after you congested the pipe with that massive shit you blamed your husband for this morning. Hell no, I’m handy with other things, if you… take my meaning.” Although that’s far too eloquent for a porn script) Suffice it to say that erogetraversed some bizarre, disconcerting territory over its span, and has largely been derided as the ghastly oddity from the depths of Satan’s anus that it is.
What, prithee, of mainsteam gaming raunchery? Oftentimes, were are presented with the scantest of sexual encounters, business that offers all the erotic allure of a bulldog’s bollocks. As avid God of War aficionados will attest, in the third iteration Kratos enters Aphrodite’s chamber (mmm, that’s good double entendre!). Whereupon, a farcical button-bashing minigame ensues, the amorous action only alluded to. Controller prompts (“Hit that X button! Harder! Harder! Now rotate your joystick in a clockwise manner! Hehe, Joystick…”) and a view of a distant pillar does not sexytime make. Conversely, the inexorable blood-bleeding violence of the franchise, wherein eyeballs, nutsacks and every other scrap of our fleshy existence is torn asunder like a fortune cookie, is entirely permissable.
Video games reflect the pervading sensibilities of the movies, a realm where ever-escalating brutality is but par for the course. Woe betide either medium, though, if an errant testicle flits across the screen (presumably attached to the rest of a dude, that’d be some Twilight Zone shit right there).
Ah, the murderer has sliced his victim into several million tiny canapés! That’s cool. He’s now feeding them to his squadron of belligerent duck assassins, thus infusing them with the bloodlust and taste for manflesh they need to murderize the entire population of the universe! Huzzah! … … Wait, what? SHIT IN MY GRANDMOTHER’S MOUTH! Is that woman topless? As in, with her actual nipples out? Up with this I shall not put! Moviegoers, let us hasten to the director’s house to shit on the doorstep and shoot his dog in the groin!
You may see this very situation on CNN soon. You may also not.
In summation, then, ‘adult’ video games are almost exclusively thrusting swords into thoraxes, gunplay-amundo, or both. Peruse our Egotastic! favorite franchises, Gears of War, Resident Evil, Call of Duty et al; each of them attest to this notion. Such has come to exemplify the ‘adult’ classification in the media. Prior to the inaugural appearance of Resident Evil 6, the ESRB and other such bodies cited alleged sans-clothing capers. What did we find therein? A fleeting spectacle of three-eighths of an inch of ass-cleavage and a mutated monstrosity -albeit a quasi-booby one- of a boss. Is this titillation with tits on? It is not.