~Lola’s Point of View~ When I was in elementary school I got royally kicked in the crotch during soccer at recess and I remember that hurting like a son of a bitch. But this was a different level. Pain, burning, the intense aching that was now settling in. “What happened? I thought you were ready,” I heard, his voice clearly panicked. Good God I have so much to teach this man. It is obvious now that this pairing was made to try every single ounce of my patience and understanding. “I was ready but you still have to go slow,” I mumbled. “But my seed was close, I had to get it inside you,” he said, as if it should be obvious. He’s so damn simple. I can’t stand it. I groaned. Laying on his side next to me, I could now see his face. He was terrified. Good. “I’m gonna need Tylenol or something. Please tell me there is some pain medicine,” I asked. “I can heal you,” he said, and I nearly shrieked as he spouted a claw from his hand, using it to slice his finger. “I’m not drinking
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