I didn't own a dish drainer or anything like that. I'd always used the dishwasher.I sat and just watched, as she went about tasks that were purely dom...stic, things she did habitually. I felt a sudden intense urge to take her back to bed. I wanted that to become something she did habitually too.I stood and went up behind her. I wanted to reach around and cup her breasts, but all I did was put my hands on her abdomen in a gentle hug."What are we going to do?" I asked."I don't know," she. Her squishy sounds were a perfect complement to the background Motown tunes.Lost in primal lust, I spanked the back of her thighs briskly, hand prints displayed. It was then I committed a mood-killing faux pas. Without thinking I asked, "Alana, are you, my sex slave?" I realized my mistake immediately as she turned, glaring, and smacked the shit out of me. I would have much preferred an enema had I known her fetish of choice."I ain't nobody's slave, you cracka bitch," she growled down at me.To. More

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