I don’t know why but I really have a thing for La Volpe. I can see me walking home from a festival, taking a shortcut through the small narrow streets. Then he steps out of the shadows and wraps his arms around me from behind, whispering in my ear. I blush, I know it’s him. His hands ghosting over my body, feeling me everywhere, me moaning out in pleasure trying to be silent out of embarrassment. He leans closer and I can feel his smirk as he watches me. Then we find a better place to have fun.