The dress

“You look drop dead gorgeous!” One if your bridesmaids says coming over. The other bridesmaids have been done up as well. A few are in their pink gowns already.

“You look amazing too!” You say with a genuine smile.

“We haven’t even gotten your dress on you yet,” she says. Two of the bridesmaids walk to you carrying a white gown between them. Like it were a fragile treasure.

You stand up, “This is... my dress?”

“Of course! Whose else would it be?”

Your attendants help you out of your satin robe. Your bare breasts are exposed to everyone, but you don’t care. The dress has transfixed you. For a split second your mind tells you to run, this isn’t right, but one of your bridesmaids grabs your shoulder.

“You’ll look perfect in it,” she whispers.

And then you are overwhelmed, holding back tears of joy as the dress is pulled over your head. The bridesmaids help tighten your bodice, accentuating your breasts. You feel the weight of the dress disappear. You slip into your white high heels.

Looking into the mirror you see a vision of perfection. Of womanly beauty at its finest. You are beyond gorgeous, beyond sexy...

“I’m ready,” you say as they place the veil over you.”