I mean when in Rome

With her own filled glass in hand,

Eva propositioned you for a toast and unfortunately salaryman etiquette prevented you from refusing. Raising your own glass to hers, you clinked.

“Santé”

Eva exclaimed with that smirk still on her face.

Time to nut up or shut up!

Bringing the fluke to your lips, you caught the faintest glimmer of the viscous juices clinging to the glass. But what’s done is done you thought as the first splash hit your tongue. The crisp, dry, faintly fruity taste of the Champagne masked much of the flavor however as the alcoholic sting died down you could feel the slippery fluids on your lips.

She had a distinctly different flavor than Savannah.

Muskier, richer, a bit of salt with a strong bitter bite.

“And how does our guest taste?” Eva teased.

You blushed, Renee blushed, you were pretty sure even cat-girl blushed.

“Um.”