Winking at the Spaniard, her parents had been a little disapproving of the match. But they had been happy that Gabrielle hadn't bonded with a Englishman. Or worse, an American. Slipping her hands around the front of the robe, she reached around to deftly get them through the seam. Finding Lisa's inner thighs, she lovingly caressed them.
"I do not vaunt to vet go," she pointed. "Feed me?" she requested. "I vud like minced strawberries and raspberry jam on my waffee."