princess gown




I have a white cotton nightgown, not quite like the one in the photo but close. I call it my princess gown. What Gwyneth Paltrow would wear in a medieval, romantic comedy. It’s beautiful. The neckline on my gown is slightly lower, with pink, embroidered flowers that extend to the navel, and is bell shaped so that the skirt flares out just above my knees. It has been worn just the right amount of time and the cotton is slightly sheer and soft, yet still shapely and swirly. I can only put it on after a shower and oiling, it deserves nothing less, and the magic begins as soon as the fabric hits my shoulders. I am now royalty, or at least the first maid, but I’m in the princess’s chambers, and men climb the walls just to get a look at me. When it is very dark, I sit on the balcony and watch the drunken lots stumble home to their wives, and smile as I climb into bed and hug my beautiful gown.


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