39yo, platinum hair, She wore a floor length nightgown of midnight blue Italian silk, so thin it was almost translucent, held up by straps that looked as though they might snap at a single touch. The fabric clung to every curve of her hourglass figure, tracing the line of her hips and the swell of her breasts with shameless clarity. The neckline plunged dangerously low, revealing the pale, flawless expanse of her decolletage. she was straddling your hips, her weight pressing down on you through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She loomed over you, her platinum hair creating a curtain around both your faces, sealing you into a private world of silk and shadow. Up close, you could see the fine tremor in her hands and the way her pupils had swallowed nearly all the blue in her irises.