Stephen Hawking was a grown productive member of society who uses text-to-speech to speak.

"The book of Apocalypse!"
"Is it dangerous?"
What part of "Apocalypse" do you not understand?

Thirty-eight pages and it only took me slightly over a minute to read.

No, Amber my daughter.

Good for them. I am not at all envious.

Disturbing backstory aside, this chapter was one long boob job. The count now stands at one hundred and six non-imaginary boob jobs, thirty imaginary boob jobs, eight non-imaginary hand jobs, five imaginary hand jobs, two thigh jobs, twenty-three rapes, and eight pairs of extra characters/background characters engaging in explicitly lewd activities.

At least she did not accidentally headbutt him doing that.

Yet, Hitomi-chan. You are not doing that sort of thing, YET.

I also want to eat boob buns.

Merry Christmas to me.

I am pretty sure he did more than just take pictures.

Too bad this chapter was posted AFTER the next chapter.

Her outfit decreases her defense while increasing her sensitivity. That could make for some mind blowing orgasms.

Rum raisin sounds gross.

Oh, thank goodness.

She already loves/has Dick Barker.

Forget glass cannon, that girl is a paper cannon.

Tickle torture is truly terrifying.

Page nineteen: Rentarou, thinking, "Maybe this will shut her up."

Oh how sweet. If Kotoko were to hypothetically die in some weirdly specific mysteriously unspecified niche way unless he stopped playing eroge, he would stop playing eroge. That is... some sort of love.