you sat at the glass table with a glass of really fucking old aged wine in front of you, Vittoria next to you with a vice grip on your thigh, her thumb moving up and down the fancy dress she had convinced you to wear.

the men that sat around the table with you and Vittoria were her… rivals?… that’s what she said, but you couldn’t tell much with how she nodded, smiled, and teased.

“Anyways, how much did that little bunny cost?” one of the men motioned to you as he drank vodka from a glass “I’d like a turn”

the man kept his eyes on your tits in the dress while Vittoria kept her eyes on the guy staring at you, the grip on your thigh tightening “You don’t get one” she replied