The year is 1957 and my husband is upset with the milkman, as he seems to always forget the creamer. An important dinner is coming up and we need that creamer. I do everything possible to get that creamer from the milkman, even threatening to contact his boss. But he has other ideas as he ask me have I ever entertained thoughts of being sexual with a negro... How could he ask me such a question? Well, I do need that creamer for my husband, as he has to impress his boss during dinner. But the cream that I received wasn't exactly the type that my husband had in mind. Oh well! I found out what I could really be doing during the day instead of dusting furniture and baking pies. I could be riding the milkman's big black cock and getting creampied instead. Being a housewife in the 50's just got interesting.