<strong>~ Domina Valeria, suffering multiple distractions ~<br/>~ Ludus Villa; inner courtyard ~</strong><br/><br/>It was of course, quite difficult to focus on Bastian when proud husband devoted such attentions towards her. His crafty theft of her grape had provoked a silent sigh mixed with her exasperated longing. The rougher warmth of his tongue in contrast to the smoother texture of the grape, had her own taste buds watering beyond the parting of her pout. To be so public in front of those slightly beneath the Senate, was perhaps asking for trouble. But Valeria could hardly stop her gaze from switching to what she deemed to be the attempts at apology. Inwardly, she was amused, for her Dominus would have to do much, much more than this, to make up for the slaves he had purchased.<br/><br/>As Manius' powerful form came to relax beside her, the polite smile upon Valeria's lips transpired with a twitching at the corners, into a far more narcissistic smirk. The wood of the daybed creaking to the additional weight placed upon it. Subtle seduction, if ever it were, oozing through her pores as she kept her poise so magnificently controlled despite the invasion of personal space, and the heat of her husband's stare upon her assets. It always pleased her to be granted whatever she wished, especially when former husband had been so disastrously prudish and most unfortunately ill-equipped to handle her base desires. In gratitude, she turned her head to touch forehead against his. A far more loving and appreciative gesture, if now short lived by the sound of un-dyed cloth being dropped. Valeria's gaze would lazily descend upon the exposed 'virtuous' of the slave. Thickly defined brows soon lifting over dilating eyes. Much bigger than she expected, perhaps<em>almost</em>enough to compete with husband, though it was difficult to tell from afar.<br/><br/>“My my...” She heaved a deep breath that expanded her chest most visibly. “He has been blessed by Priapus indeed!”<br/><br/>Already she was mentally questioning what the stamina of the great beast would be like. How many times before he would be completely spent? How long it would take for him to bestow seed... or for  how long he could hold out, for that matter. All the assessments that would determine how much of a 'man' he truly was and thereby, his potential as a Gladiator. Without taking eyes from dangling cock, the Domina waved her dismissing hand to the lesser of her handmaidens to escort the Matriana to one of the guest rooms. The motion accompanied by the snap of her circular fan, releasing the wooden blades as she began to fan herself. The sight and her more delectable thoughts, were bringing a heat to her skin that the sunlight was not responsible for.<br/><br/>Much to her dismay, both the removal of the gluttonous wife, and the flapping tongue of ageing Roman, ruined the rest of her enjoyment. Though at first, his ego stroking was pleasing enough for her to waft her fan more quickly, it soon turned more sour. The prospects of Senate patronage were without a doubt, quite appealing to the Domina. Yet it seemed Bastian had been<em>overly</em>blessed by Apollo's tongue, enough for the gift to be rendered a curse instead. Despite her attempts to interject, she found herself gaping wide with the promise of words absent sound save for the stalled gasp of interrupted syllables upon her lips. Hopelessly, she cast her dark mahogany gaze to Manius, as if to say 'look what your inappropriate tongue has done now!'<br/><br/>By the end of his great speech, the Domina was quite beside herself. In fact, she had even grown tired of having the slave's manhood in direct sight. An irritated flick of her fan towards his floored loincloth commanded that her favoured handmaiden re-affix it around his waist. There were few things that could silence her, and most options were provided by her husband alone. To be stilled to silence by this aged man had her quite beside herself. Of course, she had exchanged formal smiles, and more than once sought flaming pits of her husband instead. It seemed wise to allow the man to prattle on, even if her attentions were not entirely with him. Eventually, a politely forced chortle escaped her tensed pout as the Primus Pilus attempted light-hearted jest at wife's expense.<br/><br/>“You are much too cruel,” she raised her goblet with the toasting. “It has been said that the absence of wife may prove to stir unrequited feeling.” Curving both brow and one corner of her lips at her choice of quick wit, she paused a moment to exchange glances with Manius, before continuing. Though she turned her apologetic gaze to Bastian, it was the Lanista who would feel the tender touch of her hand, as it was placed upon his thigh; thumb brushing over the inner muscle.<br/><br/>“And, let it be known that I am<em>most</em>certain my husband did<em>not</em>mean to cause offence.”<br/>