When us French can be bothered to put down our baguettes and wine we can be a romantic lot, actually too romantic to have just one lover most of the time as a Frenchmen needs more than one thing in life, the heart and the loins both on fire. Groaning and straining and making hot dirty passionate encounters while the wife sleeps downstairs which is how i ended up in the room above King Louis XV‘s and his wifes bed.When i was young, my mother took me to a fortune teller and the seer foretold that i would one day reign over the heart of a king and boy did i fulfill that prophecy despite being married myself, as i said, us French are a romantic lot.
It was not just my pretty face, blonde hair, blue eyes, alabaster skin, and rosy cheeks that Louis fell for, such was Louis infatuation with my body that the shape of the French champagne glass is based on the size and shape of my breast. Cheeky.
We met at a masked ball at the Palace of Versailles, and i went dressed as Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt, which was less of a costume and more of a small sheet wrapped around the juicy bits.
I became the King’s official mistress and Louis XV’s wife, Queen Marie, was completely fine with it after i persuaded Louis to pay off her significant gambling debts in return for her ignoring the squeaking bed in the room above.
It went wrong after i told King Louis it would be a good idea to team up France with Austria which got France into the seven year war which saw us spanked royally by the British and Portuguese and i was blamed and not the fact that as lovers the French are great but when it comes to war, they fight like girls.
It was tuberculosis that killed me aged only 46 but as well as the boob shaped champagne glass, i also gave the world, and Elvis, the Pompadour hairstyle so pour yourself a glass of bubbly and as King Louis said to me most nights, Bottoms Up.
It was not just my pretty face, blonde hair, blue eyes, alabaster skin, and rosy cheeks that Louis fell for, such was Louis infatuation with my body that the shape of the French champagne glass is based on the size and shape of my breast. Cheeky.
We met at a masked ball at the Palace of Versailles, and i went dressed as Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt, which was less of a costume and more of a small sheet wrapped around the juicy bits.
I became the King’s official mistress and Louis XV’s wife, Queen Marie, was completely fine with it after i persuaded Louis to pay off her significant gambling debts in return for her ignoring the squeaking bed in the room above.
It went wrong after i told King Louis it would be a good idea to team up France with Austria which got France into the seven year war which saw us spanked royally by the British and Portuguese and i was blamed and not the fact that as lovers the French are great but when it comes to war, they fight like girls.
It was tuberculosis that killed me aged only 46 but as well as the boob shaped champagne glass, i also gave the world, and Elvis, the Pompadour hairstyle so pour yourself a glass of bubbly and as King Louis said to me most nights, Bottoms Up.
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