You open the front door, bags in hand, and before your foot even touches the floor inside—

FWOOOSH!

The milk carton’s gone from your hand.

“What the—?”

You look up and there’s Yoruichi in the kitchen, already pouring a glass, naked as sin, hips cocked to one side, a smug grin stretched across her face.

She turns to you slowly, lifts the glass, and sips. “Mmm. Creamy.”

Before you can even respond, she walks to the middle of the room, puts the glass down—then slowly bends over. And just starts twerking.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Her thick thighs and round cheeks ripple in hypnotic waves, her back arching deeper, hair swaying like a whip.

“You were gone all day,” she purrs. “And I was soooo bored.”

She doesn’t stop the motion as she speaks. “You work so hard… I thought I’d give you a proper welcome.”

She looks back at you over her shoulder, licking a bead of milk off her bottom lip. “So… you just gonna stand there, or come collect your reward?”