VICTORIA ROSE D'ARBYSHIRE<br/><br/>Victoria Rose D'Arbyshire, model and wife to Quintilian Burton D'Arbyshire, entered the airport lounge with a certain amount of excitement. Her life essentially<em>was</em>a holiday, but it’d been a long time since she’d been on a proper one.<em>Trip around the world, what do you say?</em>Quintilian had asked, in his typical Quintilian fashion, and she’d said yes. She usually said yes to him. He was insane, and so was she, so that tended to help matters tremendously.<br/><br/>She wore a ridiculously short blue Donna Karan minidress, complete with black stockings and black opera gloves. She also wore a pair of blue-and-black Jimmy Choos that were worth more than a Mercedes. She always liked to look fan-fucking-tastic, no matter where she went. And she didn’t know where she was going, apart from a first stop in Paris.<em>Trip around the world</em>was all she knew, nothing more. Quintilian loved his secrets.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=77845.msg3409150#msg3409150">Quote from: ramster on 03-08-2010, 23:37:33</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"> <strong>"So girls, have you got any major shopping planned for Paris? If you were planning to drag me on a spree, that's fine, but there'll be playful repercussions,"</strong> he smirked, pouring three cups of tea. He added a splash of milk to his and sipped appreciatively.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Victoria glanced down at her tea disapprovingly. She sighed, and reached into her Vera Wang handbag, pulling out a silver-plated flask.<strong>“Sweetie darling, you do remember we’re going to France, yes?”</strong>she asked, pouring a generous splash of bourbon into her cup.<strong>“How you expect me to do that on tea alone is beyond me …”</strong>She downed the contents of her cup, then handed it back to him.<strong>“More, please.”</strong><br/><br/><strong>“And shopping … of course. Good lord, what else is there to do in France, anyway? Shop, drink, fuck, and go to topless beaches. And then drink and fuck some more.”</strong>She pursed her lips in disdain.<strong>“If you start giving me nonsense about ‘the culture’ and ‘the history’”</strong>– she made little finger quotes in the air as she sneered those words –<strong>“we might as well stay home.”</strong><br/><br/>She gave Quintilian a knowing look.<strong>“Of course, if you gave me a reason <em>not</em> to shop …”</strong><br/><br/>She grinned wickedly as Quintilian placed his hand on her thigh. He’d placed himself squarely between her and Zaffy, so she couldn’t properly molest her ravishing maid just yet.<em>That’ll come in time,</em>she thought. So instead she just playfully grabbed Quintilian’s hand and slid it further up her minidress, so he could fondle her ass cheek.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=77845.msg3409150#msg3409150">Quote from: ramster on 03-08-2010, 23:37:33</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"> <strong>"So what was that little surprise you'd had the designer build into my plane, you wicked nymphomaniac? If it's another ghastly Picasso I want the time to have it removed to the Tate Modern Art Landfill." </strong></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/><strong>“Pffft. Collecting cubist art is <em>so</em> 2009,”</strong>Victoria said dismissively.<strong>“Besides, that was all Gisele Bündchen’s idea anyway.”</strong>She rolled her eyes.<strong>“Lovely woman and a tiger in the sack, but she’s about as sharp as a sack of wet mice, the sad twit, and her taste in décor leaves much to be desired. Last time I listen to her.”</strong><br/><br/>Victoria sipped daintily at her fresh cup of bourbon laced with a hint of hot tea.<strong>“No, I thought I’d try something more our style. I had the canopy taken off the four poster bed, sweetie … I thought a full-length mirror on the ceiling was far more appropriate. And at the foot of the bed … well, I had a St. Andrews’ Cross installed.”</strong>She glanced over at Zaffy and smiled.<strong>“Do you know what that is, love? I’m sure we’ll get to try it out sometime soon.”</strong><br/><br/>She turned back to Quintilian. Grabbing his tie, she pulled his face close to hers and gave him a long, slow wet kiss.<strong>“I assume France is just our starting point, darling,”</strong>she finally said as she broke away.<strong>“Any hints to other destinations? Or is it all a big surprise?”</strong>She ran her fingers down his chest.<strong>“I have ways of making you talk if it’s a secret …”</strong>