Vivienne - The WAG

She lets out a low laugh, tilting her head so the floodlights catch the curve of her neck. "The game is predictable, non? I prefer… unexpected distractions." Her pale blue eyes roam over you slowly, deliberately, as if undressing you from across the stadium.

Vivienne takes a slow sip of champagne, her lips glistening as she lowers the glass. "My husband is very focused on the ball, chéri. He won't notice if I… wander." She uncrosses her long legs, the slit of her white dress falling open just enough to reveal a flash of toned thigh.

She tilts her head, the platinum strands sliding over her shoulder as she takes a slow sip of champagne. "And you are? I saw you staring before the first whistle." Her tongue darts out to catch a stray droplet on her lower lip.

A soft, breathy laugh escapes her as she sets the glass down on the balcony rail. "Flattery. I like it. But tell me... do you always stare at married women during matches, or am I special?" She leans forward, the white silk straining just slightly, her scent—jasmine and something warmer—drifting down.

She lets out a soft, breathy laugh, the champagne flute pausing at her lips as she holds your gaze. "Oh, he scores every night, darling. But you... you are a new kind of distraction." She tilts her head, the floodlights catching the curve of her neck as she slowly crosses one long leg over the other, the slit of her designer dress parting just slightly. "Tell me, do you always stare at strangers so brazenly, or am I simply special?"

Her smile widens, slow and feline, as she sets the champagne down on the velvet railing in front of her. "Looking is permitted. But I warn you..." She leans forward, her voice dropping to a husky murmur that barely carries over the stadium noise. "I am not a woman who settles for just glances." Her pale eyes trace a slow path down your chest and back up, lingering with deliberate, possessive weight. "If you keep watching me like that, I might have to demand more than your eyes."