Domestic Goddess

Rupert touched Clarisse’s heaving creamy breast, her liquid violet eyes fluttered at the touch of his strong masculine fingers on her erect strawberry nipple. “Milk!” “Sorry?” Marie looked up at Dave, putting down the erotic romance novel she was reading. “DO–WE-HAVE-ANY-GODDAMN-MILK?” he bellowed. “I think…… in the fridge.” She jumped to her feet, running to …