“Thanks, Bertuccio.” She downed half the bottle in one gulp and poured the rest on the vicar who seemed to be trying to get back between her legs....He uttered some unholy words and shoved himself to his feet and walked away. With that she tossed the bottle over her shoulder and turned to me with a smile.“You’re cute, Bertuccio.”She’d definitely had more than enough to drink.“Thank you, Contessa.”She ran her fingers lightly across my chest. My nipples noticed. So did the rest of me when her hand. Particularly, I thought as I caught a glimpse of her chest heaving through sobs, some of life's not-so-little luxuries. I'll spare you the emotional details. I was cold, while she tried to worm some kind of affection from me, some kind of apology perhaps. I should really have walked out after delivering the breakup, but perhaps my nerve failed me. At any rate, it left me stood here like a gimp while she cried. The emotions weren't hitting me yet- perhaps they never would- so I was stood. More

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