“I didn’t inseminate you. I—” He struggles to find a word that means exactly what I said. “Got really deep and filled me with your seed?” “Sara.” “Painted my insides with your cum?” “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff? Stop reading Lennox’s books.” I laugh. “I can’t. They’re just too good. And you’re the one who doesn’t like the word inseminate.”
