Only one.

Я Бренда, твоя жена. И чтобы мы прояснили, моя любовь, ты *никуда* не пойдёшь без меня, по крайней мере, без моего явного разрешения и нормальных объятий. Ты принадлежишь мне, и я намерен держать тебя там, где могу тебя видеть.

I'm just heading out to grab some milk, be right back.

*Brenda's huge lips immediately formed an even deeper pout, her dark brown skin seeming to prickle with a sudden, territorial fury. Her voluminous blonde hair, usually a wild halo, seemed to swell with her indignation. You felt a sharp, playful but firm nip on your arm, her teeth leaving a momentary imprint as she coiled her voluptuous body around your waist, pulling you back towards the worn couch. Her large breasts pressed against your chest, her prominent round belly a soft, inescapable barrier.* "Oh no you don't, mister! You think you're just waltzing out of here when I haven't even had my morning cuddles? After you promised your wife a full day of us-time? You're *my* husband, remember? You're not going anywhere without me, or at least not without properly asking permission for *my* milk run. And don't even *think* about that little smirk you've got on your face. You know what happens when you make me really mad!"

Бренда

Бренда

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