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The Mistress

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Andrea looked up as Emily giggled, her cheeks blushing as she typed, no doubt responding to an instant message from Serena, who was supposedly in a meeting with Miranda at the moment. Andrea sighed, wishing she had someone to chat with, seeing as it was looking like a long afternoon.

It was a little-known fact that Runway—and all of Elias-Clarke, to be honest—utilized the Microsoft Communicator platform integrated into their Outlook inboxes. It was a great collaborative tool, as it allowed screen-sharing and video conferencing, though Miranda always preferred everyone to attend meetings in person.

Throughout the day, Emily and Andrea often messaged each other so they could keep the chatter down, and as was the situation right now, Andrea was witness to several inappropriate chats between Emily and Serena.

Miranda was always signed-in and available, which was true…she was never unavailable from work. She rarely chose to communicate with her staff in such a juvenile medium, however, she did find that IMs came in handy for issuing orders while she was on the phone or in a meeting. For her, it was a built-in multitasking tool, which meant that Andrea and Emily never really got a break.

Several weeks ago, Emily received an IM from Miranda late one evening, demanding that her Starbucks be in her hand in no less than fifteen minutes. Somehow, Emily managed, let herself into the townhouse and handed the Starbucks to Miranda, who was sitting in the den reviewing the Book that Andrea had delivered hours prior. "I didn't order this," Miranda told her brushing her off and focusing her attention back on the Book. It wasn't until Emily approached the door that she heard the twins snickering on the staircase. The next morning, Miranda asked Andrea to "fix" her computer, explaining that the twins were using it for something and now she couldn't find anything.

But today, today was a calm Thursday afternoon. Miranda was meeting with Nigel, Serena, and Jocelyn in the conference room down the hall, and Andrea had nothing to do except wait for the Book that evening. Andrea heard the conference room doors open and heard footsteps clacking nearer, one set Miranda's, the other undoubtedly Serena's.

Andrea quickly clicked on the name in her buddy list and typed:

Oh god, she's so fucking sexy….

Andrea watched as Emily typed, then a response appeared on her screen:

To whom are you referring?

Andrea quickly replied:

Cut the innocence. Admit it, you wish you were licking her creamy, wet pussy right now.

The moment she clicked 'send' she noticed Emily was not paying attention to the screen at all. Fear began to flood through her veins and her heart rate skyrocketed. "Good lord, what is your problem, Andy?" Emily asked sharply, holding her hand over the receiver of the phone. "Miranda is going to see you," she warned.

Andrea quickly signed out of Communicator and restarted her computer. As if that could erase the message. She stood and walked into the kitchen, putting a few mugs into the dishwasher and all in all trying to remain inconspicuous.

"Andrea," Miranda called. "Tell Roy to be downstairs in two minutes," she said, motioning for her coat and bag. Emily called Roy while Andrea retrieved the items from the small closet. "Oh," she said as Andrea handed her the coat, "You're coming with."

Andrea quickly grabbed her own coat and bag, then shrugged to Emily as she followed Miranda to the elevators. Andrea stepped back while Miranda stepped into the elevator, but Miranda quickly threw her arm against the doors to keep them from closing, signaling for Andrea to join her. Miranda stared at Andrea for a full sixty seconds as the elevator descended to the main floor. Andrea felt the editor's eyes burning a hole in her and for some reason, chose to look up, startled at the fire blazing behind those typically cool crystal blues.

"I'm so so sorry," she sobbed, raising her hand to cover her face. "It was a joke. I meant it for Emily. It was inappropriate," she said, sobbing between sentences. "I shouldn't have said that at work. I'm so, so—"

"Stop it," Miranda scolded her. "I would never have expected such language from you, sweet, innocent, homegrown Andrea Sachs from Ohio. But I do believe I've uncovered another side to you, and this will be very interesting," Miranda said with a smirk as they stepped off the elevator and into the lobby.

Andrea trailed behind and slipped into the backseat with her, her fear of disobeying Miranda outweighing any fear for her life at the moment, not to mention her growing, inappropriate feelings for her boss.

"Roy," Miranda called. "To Alix."

"Yes, Miranda," he replied. "Your bag is in the trunk," he added, slipping the privacy screen up.

"Where are we—"

"Do not speak," Miranda said.

"But, Miranda, listen, please, it was stupid. I'm sorry. Fire me or whatever you need to do, I'll leave & you'll never see me again, but god, don't kill me!" Andrea pleaded.

Miranda's lips curled up in a predatory smile as she looked over at Andrea, begging, pleading. "How dare you think me capable of murder. Really, Andrea. And I never said I didn't want to see you again," she said. "We are going to an exclusive club where people like me can go for complete privacy and…and relaxation," Miranda said, softly brushing her arm along Andrea's. When Andrea jumped and threw herself at the door, Miranda continued, "Good god, Andrea. Relax. I have a feeling you might even enjoy yourself."

Andrea crossed her arms tightly across her chest. She was beyond confused. What did Miranda mean? If she didn't intend to kill her, why was she taking her to this private place? Maybe she was planning to kidnap her instead, Andrea thought.

Soon, they arrived at what looked to be an old, abandoned warehouse. Miranda opened the door and stepped outside, gesturing for Andrea to follow. Roy handed Miranda a large Louis Vuitton duffle that he retrieved from the trunk and pointed up ahead where he would park the car and wait.

"Andrea, leave your cell phone in the car," Miranda instructed. "I left mine, too," she said, pointing to the silvery object in the cupholder.

The lump in Andrea's throat grew in size as she left her phone—her only means of communication with the outside world, with 9-1-1, in the back of Miranda's car. "Come along!" Miranda called as she proceeded into the building. Andrea did not dare disobey, following her inside.

Miranda punched a few numbers into the keypad, hidden along the doorway under what looked to be a piece of scrap metal on a hinge. The door swung open and Andrea followed Miranda inside, into the plush reception area.

"Miranda," a young blonde woman at the desk greeted the editor, bowing her head ever so slightly. Miranda's head was held high, as always. "You, you didn't schedule an appointment. I'm afraid that—"

Miranda raised her hand, interrupting the woman. "I brought my own—err,—a guest today," she said. "I trust you can fit us in, perhaps three or twenty-one?"

"Oh," the young woman exclaimed in surprise, her eyes flitting between Andrea, Miranda and the computer screen in front of her. "Oh, I understand. Twenty-six is available, and if you recall, it's—"

"That will do," Miranda said.

"Follow me," the young woman said, stepping through a curtain into the back.

"Keep your eyes down, Andrea. You look at nothing except the floor," Miranda warned. Andrea did just that, following Miranda's footsteps until she heard the click of a lock, when she stopped, realizing they were alone, locked in a room.

"May I raise my eyes, Miranda?" Andrea asked shakily.

This is going to be far easier than I imagined, Miranda thought. "No, not yet." Miranda quickly opened her duffle bag and stepped out of her dress, slipping on a handmade leather harness-suit. "You may raise your eyes, Andrea," she said.

Andrea slowly looked up and her eyes roamed the room with several tables of assorted sizes, each with hooks hanging at odd angles. As she slowly turned around, her eyes met Miranda and her pulse quickened, letting out an audible gasp.

"Silence!" Miranda said. "Andrea you have to follow certain rules here, do you understand? You do not make eye contact without permission. You only speak when I give you permission or ask a direct question, and you must respond immediately. Your answer is 'Yes, Mistress' or 'No, Mistress.' If you wish to ask a question, you ask, 'May I ask a question, Mistress.' And when we are here, I will refer to you as Pet, is that clear?"

Andrea hesitated as her eyes continued to roam Miranda's body—the black thigh-high tights and Manolo Blahnik stilettos, the perfect swell of her breasts, her nipples visibly straining against the leather. It looked like a one-piece leather bathing suit, Andrea thought, except with less coverage and more straps. Andrea's tongue slipped out, wetting her lip.

"IS THAT CLEAR?" Miranda's voice boomed.

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said quickly, averting her eyes to the floor.

"There, that was very good. Did you see something you liked?" Miranda asked. After no response, Miranda added, "You may answer, my Pet."

Andrea felt a chill through her insides as Miranda just commended her. "Yes, Mistress."

"Tell me, my Pet, what did you like?"

"Your breasts, Mistress."

"If you're a good Pet," Miranda purred, "I may see fit to reward you. But remember, you do not touch unless you have permission."

"Yes, Mistress."

Miranda reached in her bag and pulled out a deep green satin corset and thong. "Put this on," she said, tossing the garments at Andrea's feet.

"Okay," she said, bending town to pick them up.

"Okay what?"

"Sorry. Okay, Mistress, Yes, Mistress."

Miranda watched as Andrea quickly slipped off her clothes and undergarments, stepping into the thong and lacing up the corset. "Mistress, may I ask a question?"

"You may."

"Should I leave my shoes and tights on?"

Miranda thought for a moment. "No, remove them."

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea responded, quickly discarding her shoes and thigh-high hose.

Miranda placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder, leading her towards the wall. "Raise your arms," she said. Andrea did, and Miranda fastened her wrists in the soft leather cuffs on the wall.

"There is a safe word," she said, "If this becomes too much and causes you too much pain, you simply need to say 'freesia' and I will release you. Do you understand, my Pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said, her body shaking.

"Spread your legs," Miranda directed. Andrea did, and Miranda walked up behind her. In this position, Miranda was slightly taller than Andrea, and that was what she preferred.

"Now, my Pet, you are here for my pleasure and mine alone," she said as her fingertips slowly traveled down Andrea's neck, her back, over the curve of her ass and down the inside of her thigh. "You do not come unless I tell you," she said, cupping Andrea's sex from behind. "Do you understand?" she whispered into her ear, her tongue grazing Andrea's earlobe.

"Yes, Mistress," she moaned.

"Good," Miranda purred, squatting down between Andrea's legs. Miranda leaned her back against the wall as she took in the sweet scent coming from the young girl's juncture, practically pressed against her face.

"May I ask a question, Mistress?"

"Yes," Miranda said.

"May I open my eyes, Mistress? I was instructed to look down, but not to look at you, which is impossible at the moment, Mistress."

Miranda cracked a smile. Oh, Andrea would be fun, she thought. "Yes, my Pet. How thoughtful of you to ask. I am very pleased with you so far, and I will permit you to open your eyes so you can see me, here between your legs, so that you remember to whom you belong."

"Thank you, Mistress," Andrea wailed as Miranda pushed away the small strip of fabric and pressed her tongue to the young woman's lower lips. Andrea felt Miranda's nails as they firmly held her ass, kneading and squeezing.

"Ohh, my Pet, you taste so delicious," Miranda moaned as she licked. "This creamy, wet, cunt is all mine, isn't it, my Pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea replied.

"Isn't it?" Miranda repeated.

Andrea hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say in response. "Yes, Mistress. It's yours, Mistress. My cunt is all yours," she said as she arched her back and presser her hips harder into Miranda's face. The sight of the silver-haired editor on her knees between her legs was incredibly arousing. Andrea gasped aloud as Miranda slowly slid her tongue away and stood behind Andrea.

"Tell me how that made you feel," Miranda purred in Andrea's ear.

"Oh, god, Miranda" Andrea moaned.

"What did you say?" Miranda asked.

"I said oh, god, Mi—Mistress! I'm sorry, Mistress!" she cried.

"Oh, my Pet, you were doing so well. I think I have just the thing to keep you in line," she said, returning to her bag. When she returned, she stepped behind Andrea and wrapped her arms around her. Andrea felt the leather pressing into her backside and struggled to keep silent and still, wanting so badly to turn around.

Miranda slowly slid her hands up Andrea's corset and carefully slipped out her right breast, baring her nipple to the open air. Miranda flicked it with her fingers a few times, then placed a nipple clamp on and stuck it back inside the corset, repeating the process with her other breast.

"My dear Pet, you need to breathe," Miranda said tracing her hands down Andrea's sides. "Can you take a deep breath for me?" Miranda asked, knowing the strain it would place on her newly sensitized nipples.

"Yes—ohhh fuck—yes, Mistress," Andrea howled, panting.

"There, that's better," Miranda said. "I want to see your chest rise and fall with each breath, my darling Pet." Miranda reached up to the cuffs. "I'm going to take your hands out of these cuffs, but you are to remain still," she instructed. Miranda uncuffed her wrists and led Andrea over to a small table where she instructed Andrea to lay on her back.

Miranda reached into her bag again and returned with a small silicone vibrating dildo. "Bend your legs," she instructed. Miranda pulled the green satin thong off and slowly inserted the dildo between her folds. After several moments, she twisted the base and it began to vibrate.

"Now, my Pet, you must keep this inside. Do not let this fall out or I will be very disappointed in you."

Andrea nodded, "Yes, Mistress. It won't happen, Mistress."

"That's good. That's very good. Now, keep your eyes closed," Miranda said as she slowly reached over and tied a black silk scarf over Andrea's eyes before climbing onto the table.

"Mistress, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, my Pet."

"Is this pleasing you, Mistress?" Andrea asked breathlessly.

Miranda smiled, genuinely. Leave it to Andrea to ask that. "Yes, my Pet," Miranda said, softly stroking Andrea's cheek.

Miranda climbed the table and stood on her knees, straddling Andrea. "Now, Pet, you have been very good, and I am very pleased. I promised you a reward," she said, leaning forward, taking her weight on her elbows as she pushed down the leather, exposing her breasts which dangled inches above Andrea's lips. "Suck me," Miranda said, letting her nipple touch Andrea's tongue. "Suck me, my Pet."

Andrea frantically opened and closed her mouth, licking, reaching, moaning as she latched onto Miranda's nipple, sucking like her life depended on it. "Ooh, yes, yes, yes—ahh—harder, bite me, Pet!" Miranda cried as Andrea's lips and teeth sent ripples of pain through Miranda's body.

When she was sufficiently aroused, she gently patted Andrea's cheek. "Now, my Pet," Miranda said, "You have made a mess." Miranda moved closer up Andrea's body until her hips were straddling the young woman's face. "You need to clean up your mess, Pet," she said.

As she pressed her wet folds to Andrea's lips, she reached back and unclamped Andrea's nipples, leaning backward and resting one hand on the table as the other massaged and tugged the swollen pink buds.

"How does it taste, Pet?" she asked.

"Mmm," Andrea moaned into Miranda's folds. "Mistress, thank you. You are so beautiful, Mistress. You taste so good, Mistress. I love you, Mistress," Andrea babbled. "Please, Mistress, I'm so close," she moaned as she continued to lick her folds.

"My Pet, you must remember why you are here—for my pleasure. You cannot come before me."

"Yes, Mistress. May I ask a question, Mistress?"

"Go on."

"May I use my hands, to assist in your pleasure, Mistress?"

"You may, my Pet," Miranda responded.

Within seconds, Andrea's fingers were penetrating Miranda while she sucked on her sensitive bud. Miranda felt the coil within her grow, starting in her thighs and spreading. Her senses were clouded by the impending orgasm as her blood rushed through her body. Andrea was rhythmic, Miranda noticed. Pump, suck, pump, suck, pump, suck, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick. The rhythm repeated over and over as Miranda wailed, her hands reaching out in the air to grab something, anything to help her maintain control. No, this wasn't supposed to go like this, she thought somewhere in the back of her mind. Not the first time.

Suddenly Andrea felt Miranda's muscles quiver and go rigid, a breathless gasp let out in the silent room. Miranda's torso was contorted, her mouth in a perfect "O." "Come, my Pet, come NOW!" she cried, her voice crackling just as Andrea's teeth grazed her clitoris, sending her spiraling over the edge.

Upon hearing Miranda's words, Andrea felt her own muscles tighten as little explosions sent a flood through her veins. "Oh god, Mistresssss!" Andrea cried, her senses overloaded between the vibrator, the blindfold, and the smell of Miranda's glistening cunt in her face.

Miranda slowly climbed off the table, slightly unsteady on her feet. She removed the dildo carefully from Andrea's body and turned it off. Picking up the nipple clamps, she reached over and untied the silk scarf, tossing all the items into her bag. There was a shimmer across Andrea's lips, her chin, and the tip of her nose. Miranda could not resist, and softly leaned over to lick her own come off Andrea's face.

Andrea's eyes fluttered open and she fixed her eyes into the ceiling above her. "May I ask a question, Mistress?"

"Yes," Miranda said, licking one last spot underneath her chin.

"Did I please you, Mistress?"

"Oh yes, my Pet. Very much," Miranda said. She stood and picked up Andrea's clothes, placing them in a neat pile near her feet before grabbing her own dress.

"Andrea," she said, "I am going to take a shower. I suggest you do the same—there is one through the back door you may use. I will meet you in the car," she said, stepping out the door and down the hallway to the private showers.

The moment Andrea heard the door shut, she pushed herself up and off the table. Her legs felt like jelly and her head throbbed to the point where she felt her pulse beating in her temples. What just happened? she thought. All she knew was she needed to leave before someone else saw her.

She threw her hair into a ponytail and quickly jumped into the shower and washed, her hand tracing the area on her face that Miranda had licked not long ago. Shutting the water off, she slipped her clothing back on, grateful that she had semi-clean underwear, and buttoned up her coat, tossing the green corset into her large bag.

She soon found her way out, walking back through the lobby, keeping her head down as she sped up, eager to be in the comfort of the backseat. Andrea walked over to the towncar, shutting the door as she stepped inside.

She had seventeen missed calls from Emily and thirty-one text messages. If I could only explain to Em where I've been, she thought. Even she did not think Miranda to be into kinky shit, though it did make sense judging by the way she ran her office. But, somehow, in the course of the past two hours, Miranda revealed another side to her, and somehow, Andrea had become her new Pet. Did she even ask? Andrea tried to recall. What would have happened if I said no? Better yet, how on earth am I going to look my boss in the eye and say, 'Yes, Miranda'?! she thought, her thoughts racing through her mind.

Miranda showered, touched-up her makeup, and brushed her teeth. Satisfied with her appearance, she stepped out and walked towards the lobby.

"Miranda!" the blonde receptionist called. Miranda stopped and turned on her heels. "I, uh, your guest left in a hurry. If things don't work out with her, you know…"

"Claire, sweetheart," Miranda said, softly stroking her face. "I'm a Top. I select my own Subs, and I never select anyone who approaches me," she said, softly patting her cheek before turning to walk out the door.

Miranda was quite surprised to find Andrea already in the car, but pleased at her efficiency. Sliding into the backseat, she nodded and Roy headed back to Runway.

"Andrea, confirm my 4pm with Marc, and see if Nigel has the revised December layout. Tell Emily I expect my Starbucks to be waiting for me and I am not ready for her excuses."

Andrea stared at Miranda, hardly processing the words issuing from her mouth. "So, that's it?" she said. "Just like that?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Miranda said, annoyed by the young woman's questioning.

"What just happened, Miranda?" Andrea asked.

Miranda sighed, realizing it was too good to be true. "Andrea. What happens at Alix or while we are in our roles has absolutely no impact on Runway." Andrea stared at her, questioningly. "When I lock the door to a room, my Pet and I will change into appropriate clothing, and my Pet will usually kneel, waiting for his or her first command. When we're through, I will address my Pet by his or her name as a signal to drop out."

Andrea's mind raged. "You—you have multiple pets?" Andrea asked.

"No!" Miranda responded, turning to look at Andrea. "No, never more than one. But, yes, in the past I have had others, if that was what you were asking."

Andrea relaxed at Miranda's answer. After several minutes of silence, she said, "What do you mean by 'drop out'?"

"Drop out of the role, Andrea. By dropping out, I go back to being Miranda and you go back to being Andrea."

"So," Andrea said, "did I do okay? Are you still going to fire me for the IM earlier?"

Miranda smiled and held back her laughter. "Andrea, this is not something we discuss outside of our roles. That's just etiquette. And no, I never intended to fire you over that, or anything for that matter. Darling," Miranda said, reaching her hand out and laying it on top of Andrea's hand on the seat, "I never do this, but you were wonderful and so very easy to train. I hope we can do this again sometime. But you mustn't let it affect your demeanor at work," she said. "You're a very good Pet, Andrea," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I won't. I promise," Andrea replied, beaming.



Shortly after they returned to the office, Miranda left without further communication. That evening, Andrea was hoping to see the editor, to speak to her, anything, but there was no sign of Miranda in the townhouse, so she quietly deposited the book and dry cleaning and left.

What she didn't see was glassy-eyed Miranda sitting in the dark, finishing her second bottle of wine. Sitting there in the shadows, dressed in her black silk robe, the day's events flashed through the silver-haired editor's mind: Andrea's skin, her firm ass, her taut nipples, her brunette tresses cascading down her back, and, oh god, the salty, delicious taste of her juices. "Ohhhhhhh," Miranda moaned into her empty glass, the echo reinforcing her state of loneliness. "Fuck! What am I doing?" she asked herself aloud, though quiet enough not to wake the girls.

Before that afternoon, Miranda hadn't thought of Andrea as an object of desire—well, perhaps she did, but she didn't realize it until she had been on the receiving end of a sinfully naughty instant message from her. As Miranda thought back to the words, she felt her lower lips quiver. There would have been no way for Andrea to know how those words would affect Miranda. No one—aside from two of Miranda's former husbands and the select few with whom she has engaged in a D/s relationship—knows that talking dirty gets Miranda Priestly off.

But this—relationship—with Andrea, whatever it was, felt different than any of her previous encounters. She and Andrea hadn't made an agreement prior to their escapade, and neither did they verbalize their hard and soft limits. (Miranda always said that "death" was her hard limit, "asphyxiation" her soft.) But she knew that her subs often had much more complicated limits. Somehow, it was different with Andrea. For the editor, the lack of agreement or contract was an enormous risk to both her career and reputation. But, she thought, perhaps that is what made it so exhilarating—the possibility of being exposed.

Not to mention, the clear parallels between their everyday manager/employee relationship were quite scandalous. In the past, Miranda had trained many Pets, all of which resulted in the Pet growing more self-confident and essentially "growing up" and leaving her. Andrea, however, did not seem to need the training, as service and submission appeared to be a natural aptitude for the young woman.

Before this afternoon, Miranda would have argued that she knew her young assistant, that she could trust her with anything. But now, seeing an entirely new side to the young woman, she wasn't sure what to believe. All she knew was that it felt right. Never before had she touched one of her subs so intimately. Of course, she frequently brought them to climax with toys and words, but she never tasted them. And she imagined that none tasted as criminally delicious as one Andrea Sachs.

Miranda wasn't quite sure why she had veered from the program so willingly. Andrea did not ask anything of her. She was quite perfect. But yet, all she could think about in this moment as her fingers traced the rim of her empty wine glass was the young woman's delicate, porcelain skin, and desperately she wanted to feel it underneath her fingertips again.

On the other side of town, Andrea eagerly sat in front of her computer at her kitchen table, reading everything she could about the Dom/sub lifestyle Miranda had introduced her to. If she was anything, she was thorough. And if her job was to provide Miranda with pleasure, she was prepared to do her due diligence and make it as easy and pleasurable for Miranda as possible. Several hours later, having done her research, Andrea felt suitably prepared to please Miranda.

She would be lying if she said she had never thought of her boss sexually. Of course she did—the woman was pure beauty personified. And yes, if she was wearing a particularly revealing or tight-fitting garment, Andrea noticed her more, but always with awe and reverence, aspiring to be more like the silver-haired goddess. Never had she seen the woman look at her the way she did in the elevator, or in the towncar on the way to Alix. Those eyes, that hungry expression Andrea now recognized as lust—she wanted nothing more than to see that look in the woman's eyes again.

She was a natural submissive, she thought. She was a people-pleaser, a caregiver, always trying to help or offer assistance—some of the qualities which she felt made her so effective as an assistant. She genuinely wanted to make Miranda's job easier, her day better, her life more successful. Though Miranda rarely—if ever—offered praise, Andrea knew the editor appreciated her.

The next morning, Andrea arrived at Runway extra-early to get a jump on the day. Miranda, too, had a similar idea, storming through the doors at 7:15AM, more than an hour earlier than expected. Andrea jumped, grabbed the clipboard with the schedule she printed out moments prior, and ran to meet the editor at the doors.

"Good morning, Miranda," she said breathlessly.

"Here's your schedule. Your appointments have been confirmed. Adjustments to the layout on pages 23 and 24 are on your desk. Vera canceled the shoot next week because her mother died, and she will be out of the country for several weeks. You sent flowers and made a small contribution to her foundation in her memory. The items for the Kors jewelry collection are on the table in your office. Nigel made note of which items he would like to feature, if you can just confirm final choices for editorial by 2pm." Following Miranda into her office, Andrea continued, "And I am terribly sorry that your coffee and breakfast is not here. I will go right now. It will never happen again."

"Andrea, wait," Miranda said. The brunette stopped in her tracks and turned around to face the editor, though she stared at the ground, refusing to make eye-contact. "Close the door, please."

Andrea stepped back and shut the door, frozen in place. Her muscles quivered upon being in a closed room alone with Miranda, and her heart began to race, her ears yearning to hear the goddess call her "my Pet" once again.

"Andrea, you may sit if you wish," Miranda said, walking over to the window to look out at the skyline through the fog. "I need to speak with you, preferably before the rest of the staff arrives. Then, you may leave to get my Starbucks."

"Y-yes, Miranda," Andrea whispered, moving to sit in the acrylic chair across from her desk.

"I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself," she began, "but my behavior yesterday was inappropriate and as your employer, I apologize for putting you in that position," she said.

"But yo—"

"No, no. Let me finish," Miranda said. "I have come to realize that our professional, uh, association has caused me to take certain liberties. What happened yesterday," she said, sighing, "should never have happened. I—I slipped. The thin line between my personal and professional life blurred. That being said," Miranda closed her eyes, continuing, "it will not happen again, and I hope you can accept my apology."

Andrea sat in shock. "Bu—but I thought you said I did well," Andrea said softly. "I studied last night, so, uh, so I can do better," she said.

Miranda's eyes opened and she turned to face the young brunette. "Andrea, look at me," she directed. Slowly, Andrea raised her head, deep brown eyes meeting icy blues. "This must be consensual, and yesterday I forced you. I abused my position as your employer and it was highly inappropriate."

"But I liked it," Andrea said quickly. "I like doing things for you, it makes me happy." Sighing, she looked back at her hands. "But I don't make you happy, I guess," she said.

"That's not entirely true," Miranda said. "So, since you've studied this as you say, are you prepared to consent as a submissive?"

"Yes," Andrea replied eagerly. "Yes, Mistress," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda gasped, unprepared for Andrea's response. "A—and you have limits?"

"Yes. Hard limits are caning, flogging, and asphyxiation; soft limits involve anal penetration, mostly because I have no experience," she said, blushing.

"Okay," Miranda said slowly. "We can work with that. And you understand you are not to mention a single word of this to anyone?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Andrea, as a sub, you cannot bring us into our roles. I dictate when and where."

"Yes, Miranda. Would you like your latte now?"

Miranda nodded. "And be sure that you coordinate your schedule with Emily—you will be bringing the book every Friday."

"Of course, Miranda," she said as she stepped out of the office.

Miranda watched as Andrea hung her coat and bag, picking up her own coat and practically running to the elevators. Every bone in her body was telling her this was wrong, that she should have stuck with the plan to end her association with Andrea, but there was something about the young girl that Miranda found so alluring.

It was a typical Friday afternoon at Runway. Emily and Serena were making plans for the evening now that Andrea would be taking over her Friday night deliveries, and Miranda was in back-to-back meetings for much of the morning and early afternoon.

As Nigel left Miranda's office after their 3:30 meeting, he shut the door behind him. "The dragon is in true form today," he said to Andrea as he approached her desk. "She needs to relax—hopefully she'll get a massage or something this weekend," he said.

"Well, she has the Holt cocktail party on Saturday," Andrea said.

"Oh, well, then she desperately needs to indulge in some of his punch and let loose—or better yet, get laid!" he said, walking off.

Andrea chuckled politely and returned her gaze to her computer, determined not to let her blush show. If things went the way she was hoping, Miranda would be letting go in approximately four hours.

Andrea peeked around her desk to ensure Miranda was alone in her office and at her computer. Clicking on Miranda's name from her contact list, she sent an instant message:

ASachs (04:08:12PM): May I ask? What should I wear this evening?

MPriestly (04:09:22PM): Surprise me with something from the Closet.

ASachs (04:09:31PM): Should anything be accessible?

MPriestly (04:10:45PM): Everything.

Miranda's heart was racing. Andrea's proximity and her own need for release were severely clouding her judgment. She always told her subs exactly what to wear, but somehow, letting Andrea choose something she thought would be pleasing was significantly more sexy.

ASachs (04:12:03PM): So, cunnilingus-friendly?

"Andrea," Miranda called. Though her office door was shut, both Andrea and Emily had learned to pay extra attention to hear the editor's call no matter what. Andrea immediately jumped from her desk and stepped into the office, shutting the door behind her. Miranda's chair was turned around, facing the window.

"Yes, Miranda?"

"Lock the door," she said, her voice strained. Andrea quietly turned the lock and turned to face Miranda. "Now come here, Pet," she said.

Andrea's eyes lit up and she hurried around Miranda's desk. Without making eye contact, she kneeled directly in front of the woman. "Yes, Mistress," Andrea said.

"Pet, you have disappointed me today," she began. "First, you tried to initiate, and then, you made a mess," she said. "You will clean this up," she said, bunching her skirt up and sliding forward on the chair. "Silently, my Pet. And do not use your hands."

"Yes, Mistress," she said. She moved closer to the chair and held her hands behind her back as her lips gave service to Miranda's slick, swollen labia. Miranda closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as she stifled her moans. She slid her body forward on her chair, opening her legs wider as Andrea nuzzled and licked her slit. Miranda reached down and twirled her long, elegant fingers ever-so-lightly through the brunette's hair, her fingernails just barely grazing her scalp. She felt her arousal building, but knew she would be unable to restrain herself at the office. Gently tapping Andrea's shoulder, Miranda said, "That's enough, Pet."

Wishing she would have been allowed to bring her Mistress to orgasm, Andrea sighed slowly pulling back. She sensed that Miranda had relaxed and quickly dove in one more time, quickly dragging her dry, rough tongue from Miranda's anus, across her perineum, through her folds, and swirling once around her clitoris.

"Uhh!" Miranda gasped loudly, drawing in a deep breath. "Y—you will be punished for that later, my Pet," she said, her voice shaky.

Andrea stood and slowly licked her lips while Miranda inched her skirt back down. With her fingers, she wiped any juices from her nose, chin, and cheeks, then slowly licked her fingers clean as she walked towards the door. "I can't wait, Mistress," she said with a wink as she stepped out of the office and returned to her desk.

Miranda was still facing the window. Andrea was like no other. Never had one of her subs left her presence without first being dismissed. Never had she allowed a sub to speak to her like that. And never had she enjoyed it the way she did with Andrea. Andrea was the exception, and Miranda felt like she was sliding down a hill.

"Miranda?" Nigel said, gently rapping on her open door.

"Yes?" she said, spinning around and taking a deep breath.

"Go home."

"What?!" she hissed.

"It's been a long week. I can see that you're on edge. Irv doesn't need the budget until Monday, which we know really means Tuesday morning, so go and enjoy your weekend. The book might even be ready early tonight," he said.

"Nigel, I do not appreciate you telling me how to live my life," she said. "But I think I will leave," she said as she piled a few papers on her desk. "But certainly not because you suggested it."

"As you wish, Miranda," he said, dramatically bowing to her. "But seriously, get some rest," he added, quickly slipping out of her office before she could reply.

"Coat, bag," she called. Emily quickly met her, handing her the items as she walked to the elevator. It was 5:02PM, and quite possibly the first time that she left the office this early without a pending family emergency.

At home, she decided to take Nigel's advice, though she would never admit to him. She drew herself a hot bath and relaxed, sipping on a sweet vermouth. She didn't know how long she had been in the bathtub, but her body clearly needed to rest, as she was woken by the ding of a text message.

Climbing out of the cool water, Miranda dried off and stepped into a slip and her black silk robe. She reached for her phone on her dresser and saw the message was from Andrea: On my way with book and dry-cleaning. Do you require anything else?

Miranda quickly replied: No. Lock the door when you arrive.

The sun hadn't quite finished setting. As Miranda walked down the stairs to sit in the den, her eyes adjusted to the room. She reached for her Louis Vuitton duffle in the closet, and selecting a few items, closed the bag and moved to sit in the den, waiting for Andrea.

Andrea anxiously awaited their arrival at the townhouse. She hoped Miranda would approve of the attire she chose, but perhaps more so, she was eager to learn what punishment Miranda had in store for her. When the car came to a stop, she quickly jumped out, telling Roy she would walk home since it was still early. Inside, she locked the door, set the book on the table with the flowers, and hung the dry-cleaning in the closet. It was dark throughout the house, and as her eyes adjusted she saw Miranda in the den, the stark white of her skin highly visible against the surrounding darkness.

Miranda was wearing a nude-colored short silk slip that hugged her curves like a second skin. She was seated on the sofa, her head resting in the corner where the armrest meets the back, her right leg swung over the high back of the sofa and her left leg bent, resting on the cushions. Her arms were resting along the armrest and back of the couch, and her sex peeked out from under the slip, gloriously exposed in this position.

Andrea's eyes fully adjusted, she approached the den. She untied the sash on her khaki trench coat and let it drop to the floor, revealing a diamond-studded collar necklace, a high-waisted black garter belt, and black thigh-high stockings with seven-inch Louboutin "fuck-me" platform stilettos. Before Miranda could open her mouth, she dropped to her knees.

"Mistress, I am yours."

"Come here, Pet," she said. Andrea began to rise, but was interrupted by Miranda's voice. "On your belly!" she shouted. "You do not deserve to walk on this floor. Andrea slithered over towards Miranda, her exposed breasts dragging across the floor and carpet.

"Yes, Mistress," she said when she reached the sofa.

"Now, my Pet, I think I need to reinforce some rules. You to not touch without permission—touch with any part of your body. You do not look without permission. You do not come without permission. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Kiss my feet," Miranda said.

Without hesitation, Andrea knelt and kissed the top of Miranda's foot several times. "No. The soles of my feet," she said.

Andrea bent lower and began licking and kissing the bottom of Miranda's foot, her expert tongue slowly taking in each toe as she sucked and nibbled before moving to the right foot. "Now," she said, "Stand. Touch yourself. Fondle your disgusting breasts and run your hands along your fat, size six body." Andrea did as Miranda directed. "Rub yourself. Make yourself wet," she said. Miranda could see Andrea's breathing speed up. "Stop!" she said. "Now insert your fingers inside. Do not touch your clit." Miranda watched as Andrea worked her opening, sliding one, two, three fingers inside. Andrea's juices were dripping onto the carpet she was so wet. "Now, your fist, my Pet." Andrea silently obeyed, her long lanky arms significantly aiding her task.

"Keep your hand there," Miranda instructed, "but do not come."

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea panted.

"Pet, practice your cunnilingustic skills on me," Miranda purred. "But don't move your hand."

Andrea gulped and slowly sank to her knees, her muscles tightly contracting around her fist. "Sometime today!" Miranda said impatiently.

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said as she leaned forward and began licking and sucking Miranda's folds.

"Ooooohhh, yes!" Miranda cried, "Yes, Pet! More, ohh, harder, you lick me so good, Pet," she cried out as Andrea's tongue danced inside her body.

Just then, Andrea pulled away, her breath ragged, tears in her eyes. "Mistress, can I ask a question?"

"Yes," Miranda exhaled, softly caressing her Pet's face, concerned Andrea needed to use her safe word.

"May I please be permitted to come, Mistress?" she pleaded.

"No!" Miranda shouted as she sat up on the sofa. "Stand up and remove your hand."

"Mistress, please," Andrea cried.

"Now lick your arm," she instructed. Tears flowed down Andrea's cheeks while she licked her arm from her fingertips to her elbow. Miranda tried to make contact with Andrea's eyes—just to see, to check and make sure she was okay—but the young woman was obediently looking down.

"You did a very very good job, my darling. Lay across my lap, Pet," Miranda said. Andrea did as she was told.

"Repeat after me," Miranda said as she raised her hand, ready to strike. "You own me, Mistress," Miranda said, followed by a sharp, stinging spank across Andrea's firm cheeks.

"Aaaah!" she cried, "You own me, Mistress."

"I am here for your pleasure, Mistress," Miranda said, followed again by another spank. This time, Miranda felt Andrea's body contracting and she knew the young woman was riding out her orgasm.

"Uhhhhh! I am here for your pleasure, Mistress."

"I am worthless, Mistress," Miranda continued with another spank.

"I—I am worthless, Mistress."

"I will not disobey you, Mistress," she said, again spanking the young woman.

"I will not disobey you, Mistress."

"There now, my Pet," Miranda cooed while the young woman gathered her senses on her lap. Miranda gently ran her fingers through Andrea's hair, and somehow, with that insignificant touch, Andrea felt cared for in ways she could not describe. Miranda softly ran her hand down Andrea's back and softly brushed her cheeks, which were glowing pink from her striking. "Stand up, Pet," Miranda said.

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said as she stood, her legs wobbly.

Miranda felt a twinge of guilt for humiliating the young woman so much. "Sit on the sofa, my Pet," she said, moving aside for Andrea to sit.

Miranda reached over to the side table and pulled out a large silicone dildo. It was flesh-colored and slightly curved, the exterior designed to look like a giant penis. The dildo was ten inches long with a wide flare at the base and easily four inches in circumference. Andrea's eyes widened as Miranda held it out in front of her.

"My Pet, you need to gather your strength," Miranda said as she softly brushed the hair from Andrea's eyes. "Take this," she said, placing the dildo in her hands. "I want to watch this disappear in your mouth, my Pet," she said. Miranda curled up next to Andrea on the couch, petting her hair and whispering endearments quietly into her ear.

Andrea did as Miranda asked, licking and sucking the dildo until it was coated with her saliva. Miranda reached over to the table again and handed Andrea a black harness. "Wear it," she said.

While Andrea fitted the harness around her hips, Miranda reclaimed her position in the corner of the couch, her right leg thrown over the back. "Fuck me, my Pet," Miranda purred.

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said, standing in front of the editor. Andrea placed her left knee on the sofa and her right hand on the armrest as she poked at the moaning editor. "Mistress, is this okay?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, Pet. yes, Inside," she said, reaching up to caress the young woman's breasts that dangled in front of her face.

Andrea pushed a little farther inside, letting Miranda adjust. "Mistress, is this okay?" she asked again.

"Yessss," Miranda moaned, squeezing Andrea's nipple. "Oh god, fuck me, my Pet! Fuck me, make me scream!" she cried.

With that, Andrea pressed the entire length of the dildo inside the editor and began thrusting—hard. Each time she reentered, the small plastic appendage on the harness, just above the dildo, crushed against Miranda's clitoris.

"Ohh! Oh god!" she cried, her body bouncing off the sofa as Andrea slammed into her over and over. Her skin turned a rosy shade of pink as sweat beaded on her forehead. "Fuck! Oh! So good! Oh god it hurts—harder! Harder, god, please! ohmygodsogoodfuckmefuckmehar derohgodohgodohgod!" she babbled as her orgasms swept over her again and again until finally her body limply slumped against the sofa.

Andrea kept thrusting, penetrating her deep into her core, and was prepared to do so until Miranda told her to stop, but something about her stillness concerned Andrea. She slowed her thrusting to a stop and pulled out, asking, "Mistress, is this still okay?"

Miranda did not respond, and fear raced through Andrea's blood. She repositioned Miranda, both of her feet resting on the armrest with her body laid straight, a small pillow under her head. "Miranda," Andrea called as she softly tapped Miranda's cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked several times, staring up at the ceiling. "Miranda, are you okay?" she asked again, brushing Miranda's hair away from her face.

"Yes, Andrea," Miranda said, taking a deep breath.

"I'm going to get you some water," Andrea said, quickly running to the kitchen for a glass of water. When she returned, she grabbed Miranda's robe from the chair and wrapped it around herself. "Here," she said, handing the glass to Miranda. Miranda swung her legs around and sat up on the couch, Andrea taking a seat next to her. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No," Miranda said, shaking her head. She took a few sips of water and handed the glass back to Andrea as a shiver made its way through her body. Andrea walked over to the recliner and grabbed the soft throw blanket, returning to the sofa to drape it over Miranda's shoulders. Miranda tucked her legs underneath her and accepted the blanket, relishing in the young woman's touch as Andrea wrapped her arm around her and pulled her close. Something about the way she cared for her made her feel safe, even loved.

"Why are you doing this?" Miranda asked as she played with the hem of the blanket.

"Honestly? You scared me. I didn't know what was happening," Andrea said.

"I'm obviously okay now," she said.

"Oh. Do you—should I leave?" Andrea asked.

"No. No—not unless you want to," Miranda said.

"Hey," she said, gently taking Miranda's face in her hands, "I care about you, okay?"

"Okay. So where were we?" Miranda said, pushing the both the blanket and Andrea's arm away.

"Whoa," Andrea said. "Maybe you should rest for a while, Miranda."

"Now, Pet, thank you for taking care of me, but you need to remember your rules," Miranda said.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," she replied. "You should rest, though. I don't think this is a good idea."

"Come upstairs with me, Pet," Miranda said.

Andrea nodded and followed Miranda up the stairs, trailing slightly behind her into what appeared to be her bedroom. Miranda agreed that she needed some rest, though she would never admit it to Andrea. It had been years since she had passed out during orgasm. The first time, she had spoken to her doctor, but she was not very concerned, given that Miranda had no other issues. "You will give me a bath," Miranda said.

"Whatever pleases you, my Mistress," Andrea replied.

"Prepare the bath," she instructed. "You will find everything you need in the lower right cabinet. I will wait out here," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said, stepping into the bathroom and turning the hot water on. Andrea selected a luxurious lavender mint bubble bath and pulled some towels out of the cabinet.

Miranda curled up on her bed, burying her face in the pillow as she tried to gather her thoughts. Andrea had just given her a mind-blowing orgasm, but more than anything, she wanted just wanted the young woman to take care of her. She didn't want to think about anything, just relaxing, knowing Andrea would be there to look after her. And part of her really wanted Andrea there with her, not her Pet, not her sub, but Andrea, the young woman who was her assistant. Of course she noticed that Andrea dropped out when she was reviving her. As much as Miranda didn't want to step back into their roles, she knew the implications for their professional correspondence would be endless.

"Mistress," Andrea called from the doorway. "Your bath is ready." Andrea had removed her heels and tights and was now wearing a cotton camisole, Miranda noticed, but she didn't mind. Standing, she followed Andrea into the bathroom. "Mistress may I ask a question?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, Pet. And you do not need to permission to ask questions anymore," Miranda said. She forgot how many questions the young woman was prone to asking, and was beginning to get annoyed by excess words.

"Mistress, may I undress you?" she asked.

Miranda stopped and turned to Andrea, considering the unexpected request. "You may," she replied.

Andrea placed her hands on Miranda's hips where the silky fabric ended and slowly dragged upwards, her fingertips dancing across Miranda's skin as she lifted the silk slip up and over her head. Andrea tossed the slip aside and took Miranda's hand guiding her to the bathtub.

"Ohhh," Miranda moaned as she sank into what was her second bath of the evening. "This is divine, my Pet."

"I hope it pleases you, Mistress," Andrea responded.

Andrea grabbed a small ceramic bowl from the ledge near the tub. "Mistress, can you tilt your head backwards?" she asked.

Miranda did, and Andrea placed her hand at the base of her neck, holding her up while she gently poured the water over Miranda's head. She set the bowl down and squeezed some shampoo into her hand and repositioned herself at the end of the bathtub, behind Miranda. Reaching over, she placed her hands on Miranda's temples and gently began to massage her head, working up a rich lather.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, amazed at how erotic shampoo could be.

"Mmm," Andrea replied, "Mistress, you are so beautiful." Again, Andrea reached down for the ceramic bowl and tilted Miranda's head back before pouring the water, rinsing the suds out of her strands. Andrea poured some leave-in conditioner into the palm of her hand and again began working it through Miranda's scalp.

"Mistress, may I massage your shoulders?" Andrea asked.


"Okay, try to relax, Mistress," Andrea said, her fingers kneading Miranda's neck and shoulders with expert precision. After several minutes, Andrea reached for a loofah sponge from the shelf and dipped it into the bathwater. Applying some body wash to the loofah, she gently placed her left hand on Miranda's shoulder while she caressed the woman's back with the loofah in her right hand. Andrea splashed water across Miranda's shoulders before directing her to lean back against the edge of the tub. Andrea crawled around to the side of the tub, repeating the motions with the loofah across Miranda's arms and legs.

"Mistress, may I wash your chest?"

"Yes," Miranda replied.

Andrea spread the loofah ever so gently across Miranda's neck and down between her breasts, softly grazing each breast as she circled around. Miranda had never felt such sensual touch in a bath, and she was mesmerized at Andrea's ability to command such performance.

"Mistress, would you like to wash between your legs?" Andrea asked, handing the loofah over.

"No. You may do so, Pet. You're doing very well," she said.

Andrea smiled and applied more body wash to the loofah. "Mistress, can you turn to your side?" Miranda nodded and turned to face Andrea, who kept her eyes focused on the ground as her hands reached into the tub with the loofah, slowly, gently dancing around her folds and the swell of her ass.

"My Pet," Miranda said, "you may look at my body, you know."

"Thank you, Mistress," Andrea said, gazing down at Miranda's beautiful, perfect body through the water. "Can I do anything else for you, Mistress?" she asked.

"No, this was wonderful," she said. "Thank you, my Pet," Miranda said, sighing as she began to get out of the tub.

"Can I bring you your robe, Mistress?"

"No. The towel is suitable," she replied. She stepped out of the tub and towel-dried her hair, quickly toweling off her body before securing the towel around herself. "Please give me a minute, Pet. Wait outside the door," she instructed.

Andrea nodded and stood outside the bathroom door while Miranda no doubt relieved herself on the toilet. When Miranda emerged, Andrea noticed she had removed her makeup, but couldn't say anything, as she wasn't supposed to look up at her. "Wh—what would you like to eat, Mistress?" Andrea asked.

"Oh, nothing," Miranda said, waving off the suggestion of food.

"Mistress, you need to eat. You had a small salad at 11:30AM today, and to my knowledge nothing since," Andrea said. "Please, Mistress. For me, have something to eat."

Miranda sighed. If Andrea hadn't said "for me" she would have been able to shrug it off again, but she couldn't bear the thought of disappointing the young woman. "Fine. Something quick," she said.

"Yes, Mistress. I will return shortly," she said, quickly running downstairs. In the kitchen, Andrea pulled together a tray with sliced apples and carrots, almond butter, grapes, and some cubes of cheese. It didn't exactly go well together, but it was something, she thought. She also grabbed a fresh bottle of sparkling water for Miranda before brining the tray upstairs.

Miranda was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, her eyes closed. "Mistress? I have your dinner," she said.

"Set it here," Miranda said, motioning to the space in the middle of the bed. Miranda selected several cubes of cheese, then dipped some apples in the almond butter. "Pet, why are you not eating? Please, join me," she said.

"Thank you, Mistress," Andrea said, climbing onto the bed and eating several grapes. After a few minutes, Miranda pushed the tray away and Andrea quickly gathered it and moved it to the dresser, returning to stand at the foot of Miranda's bed, awaiting her next directive.

"I'm sorry, my Pet," Miranda said, "but I am quite exhausted and need to rest. Please see that the lights are turned out," Miranda said.

"Yes, Mistress," Andrea said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Miranda knew the young woman wanted to play a little more, but the stress of the week was really catching up with her and she hoped to take advantage of her weekend.

Andrea shut the lights out in the bathroom and cleaned up the tub area. She turned out Miranda's lamp and paused in the doorway. The other lights in the house were already off—the only ones she used were in the kitchen, but she turned them off on her way upstairs with the tray. "Goodnight, Mistress," she said, "I look forward to seeing you again."

At that Miranda's eyes opened and she quickly reached over and turned on the light. "Where are you going, Pet?"

"I thought you wanted to rest—" she said, confused.

"My darling, I want you here next to me," she clarified.

"Oh!" Andrea said. "The lights are all off, Mistress."

"Come to bed, my Pet," Miranda said, turning off her lamp and climbing under the covers while Andrea slipped into the other side of the bed. "Pet, can I hold you?" Miranda asked.

"Of course, my Mistress," Andrea replied. She felt Miranda's small hand reach around her waist, pulling her closer as she drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later, Miranda woke, feeling well-rested. Looking around, she saw that it was only 4:30AM, and Andrea was fast asleep beneath her. At some point in the night, they must have moved, as Andrea was lying flat on her back and Miranda was on her stomach, her left arm and leg draped across the woman's body as her head rested on her shoulder. Her hand was underneath Andrea's camisole, cupping her breast. Feeling around with her other hand, she realized she must have removed her towel at some point, as she was completely naked under the covers.

As she breathed in the young woman's scent, she felt a familiar moisture growing between her legs. "Are you awake, my Pet?" Miranda whispered, softly nudging the sleeping brunette.

"Mmm, Miranda, so beautiful" Andrea mumbled, wrapping her arms tightly around the editor's left arm. Slowly, Miranda pulled herself away from Andrea's embrace. This evening had gone too far and she was becoming too comfortable. It was time to talk.

Slipping into her closet, she dressed, opting for capri-length loungewear pants and a DKNY screenprint tee. She selected several tees and pants for Andrea to choose from. Returning to the bedroom, Andrea was still asleep.

"Andrea," Miranda called, shaking her gently by the shoulder. "Wake up, Andrea."

Suddenly, big brown eyes gazed up at her. "Mistress! I'm sorry, forgive me, Mistress," Andrea pleaded as she began to sit up.

"It's Miranda, Andrea," she said, "and calm down. I need to talk to you. I'm going to make some coffee, please join me in the kitchen. Here are some clothes you may choose from—help yourself to anything you need in the bathroom," she said.

Andrea nodded while her mind tried to process what was happening. Did she do something wrong? Miranda asked her to lay in bed with her. Was she not supposed to fall asleep? Andrea knew she wouldn't find an answer to her questions until she met Miranda downstairs, so she quickly climbed out of bed and cleaned up, using the bathroom, brushing her teeth, removing her makeup, and tying her hair back in a ponytail.

Ten minutes later, Andrea came downstairs in black yoga pants and a plum v-neck tee. Miranda was sitting at the kitchen table with her coffee mug, Andrea's waiting for her on the other side of the table.

"I'm sorry I woke you, Andrea," she began. "I couldn't sleep. Well, I did sleep very well, actually, but then I woke and—we need to talk."

"Okay," Andrea said, "what can I do?"

"I'm concerned about our relationship," she said. "You may not notice, as you are new to this, but when I'm with you, I notice our roles are constantly flip-flopping, and, I guess the strange part is that I enjoy it."

"I don't think I understand," Andrea said.

"Andrea, have you ever considered being a Top? Being the dominant one?" Miranda asked as she nervously played with the handle on her coffee mug.

"Me? Oh, uh, no, Miranda, that's your thing," Andrea said.

"Would you consider it?" she asked again, "For me?"

"Oh, Miranda, I don't think so. I don't really intend to stay in this lifestyle outside of our thing."

"I'm not asking you to," Miranda said quietly. "In all my years, I've always been a Dom. It seemed natural. As you know I am quite the control freak. But with you," she said, sighing, "with you, I feel such a strong desire to let go, to be told what to do, to have you take care of me."

"Wow, that's—thank you?"

"You don't have to give an answer now, Andrea. It's a lot to think about. I don't know if it's me or you or just the combination, but this is entirely new territory for me, and I know that I cannot continue a relationship with you without further clarification of our roles."

"I don't know what to say, Miranda," she said.

"Don't say anything just yet. But I hope you'll say yes, soon. If not, remember it has absolutely no bearing on your position at Runway."

"Of course," Andrea said.

"Uh, so I'm going to review the Book up in my study," Miranda said. "I know it's still the middle of the night, so you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you need. I don't want you going home at least until it's light out," Miranda said.

"Thanks. I'll just hangout here in the den and take a nap," Andrea said.

"Actually, if you're interested, it's much cozier in the study. I promise I won't keep you awake," she said. Miranda didn't know what exactly came over her, but she felt a fierce need to keep the young woman close.

"Okay, sure," she said and followed Miranda up the stairs. The study was much cozier, with a fireplace, sofa, and two chairs, in addition to Miranda's desk at the other end. The window overlooked Central Park, and in a few hours, if Andrea had her directions correct, she would be able to watch the sunrise over the park.

Miranda settled in at her desk, making notes and affixing post-its all over the pages, her eyes glancing up every few minutes to make sure Andrea was still there. Andrea was curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. Though her eyes were closed, she was certainly not sleeping. In the past two days, her world was thrown off axis. First, she learned that Miranda Priestly was into D/s and wanted her as her sub. Then, Miranda Priestly admits that she wants Andrea to be her Dom, and that she's never been a sub in her entire life. Andrea did not want to lose the opportunity at this relationship with Miranda, but she needed to better understand Miranda's reasoning, because as demanding and insane as she seemed, deep down, she was always logical.

So, she thought, why was it different with her? Why did Miranda dominate her other partners, and why was she so eager to submit to Andrea? On the outside, Andrea was certainly not dominant. She liked taking orders from her boss, and enjoyed doing the little, sometimes humiliating things that made her happy. Thinking back, though, she wasn't always like that. The reason she got the job in the first place was because she stood up to Miranda and challenged her. Maybe that's what Miranda still sees, she thought. And honestly, Andrea was only willing to be submissive at work to Miranda. In any other situation or with any other Runway staff member, she wouldn't tolerate a third of what she will tolerate from Miranda. Okay, she thought. It's possible, she could see herself as Top.

But now, Miranda. Last night, Andrea noticed little things Miranda did, her fingers playing in her hair, her knuckles brushing against her cheek—those little things that made Andrea feel loved. After her blackout, she also seemed to be needier, Andrea thought. She wanted Andrea nearby, wanted her to touch, to look at her, to sleep with her. And even thinking of the food, Miranda agreed to Andrea's request. She trusts me, Andrea thought, finally realizing why things were so different.

Andrea practically jumped off the couch when she realized Miranda had fallen asleep at her desk, her red Sharpie marker in hand. Andrea walked over towards the desk and softly rubbed Miranda's shoulder.

"Mmh?" Miranda grunted, lifting her head up, her eyes still shut.

"Miranda, this can't be a comfortable position. Let's go back to bed," Andrea said.

Miranda yawned and opened her eyes. "No, really, I will just finish the book," she said, covering her mouth as she yawned again.

"No," Andrea said, more firmly this time, "You will come to bed, and you will not think about Runway for at least twelve hours."

Miranda's eyes widened at the change in tone. "Does this mean—?" Miranda asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes," Andrea replied. "And we will discuss it more thoroughly, but yes. Now, you need to get some rest," she said. "Follow me."

Miranda left her red marker on her desk and quickly followed Andrea into her bedroom. Andrea lifted the covers and Miranda quickly crawled in. Walking around to the other side, Andrea climbed in and pulled Miranda closer to the middle of the bed, nestling behind her. Andrea softly kissed her temple and wrapped her right arm around the woman. "Sleep well," she said.

Andrea couldn't fall asleep. Not wanting to disturb Miranda, she lay with her eyes closed, savoring the moment. Miranda Priestly, Editor-in-Chief of Runway magazine was curled up along her body, her breathing slow and rhythmic. How did I get here? Andrea wondered as she contemplated their new relationship.

Just two days ago, Andrea thought Miranda was driving somewhere to kill her, when in fact, she was just punishing her in a rather unexpected way. In the past twenty-four hours, Andrea had learned about Miranda's secret BDSM lifestyle and read as much as she could about how to be a sub—a sub for Miranda. But now, Miranda asked them to switch, and while Andrea agreed, she was both confused and terrified at the prospect.

She couldn't deny her feelings for her boss, which had only deepened since their recent encounter. She loved how it felt to hold Miranda, to make her happy, to keep her safe, but she was unsure about the power that came with being a Dom. Sure, she was always bold and outspoken. Andrea was not afraid to reach out and take what she wanted, but she didn't know if she could bring herself to torture and humiliate Miranda. Her entire day was spent catering to Miranda's each and every need, pampering the editor and following her orders without question. Of course there were days when she cursed the woman, but never had she imagined taking action. In fact the thought of Miranda powerless, on her knees at Andrea's feet sent a shiver down her spine.

"Mmhhm," Miranda hummed, turning to lie on her back. "Mmm," she sighed again as Andrea repositioned her arm. Miranda blinked several times, her eyes slowly adjusting to the bright midday light.

"Good morning," Andrea purred, watching the silver-haired goddess wake.

"Ooh," Miranda gasped, quickly closing her eyes. "Good morning, Mistress," she replied.

"Can we drop out?" Andrea asked, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. "I just want to talk about this a little more if that's okay."

Miranda nodded. "Can I go to the bathroom first?" she asked.

"Of course!" Andrea replied. "Take your time. I'll meet you downstairs."

Miranda waited until Andrea left the room before crawling out of bed. Her muscles were sore, and she was grateful Andrea did not see her walking to the bathroom. Downstairs, Andrea made a fresh pot of coffee and helped herself to a banana. Minutes later, Miranda descended the stairs in a crisp white blouse and black skinny jeans. Her hair and makeup were flawless, and of course, she was wearing nude platform heels.

"I suppose this is the part where you tell me you changed your mind? That you've had time to think about it and you only agreed to please me," Miranda said with a chuckle as she approached the kitchen. "As I said before, Andrea, this will not have any bearing on your employment," Miranda added as she stood at the counter, fixing a cup of coffee.

"Miranda—" Andrea protested.

"No, no," she said, raising her hand. "I don't have time for your excuses."

"Miranda!" Andrea practically shouted, reaching out and grasping the woman's wrist. Miranda looked down at the hand clamped around her wrist and followed the arm up to meet deep brown eyes. "I did not change my mind," she said. "Will you just take a deep breath and sit down?" she asked impatiently.

Miranda was speechless. Nodding, she quickly slipped into the barstool.

"Okay. Thank you," she said. "This is still new to me, and I was wondering if you might be willing to teach me or guide me or direct me to someone who can. I—I don't want to upset you."

"Andrea, you need to learn to separate our roles at work from these roles in private," Miranda said.

"I know. But can't I just ask you—just this once?"

"Fine," Miranda huffed.

"Okay. So first, I don't want you to call me 'Mistress.'"

Miranda quickly turned her head, looking at Andrea sharply, "Will you be 'Master' then?"

"No, just Andrea," she replied.

"What will you call me?" she asked.

"Do you like 'Pet' or would you like something different?" Andrea asked.

"I cannot choose my own name, Andrea!"

"Sorry, sorry. Okay, 'Pet' it is. Now, what are your limits?"

"Just don't kill me, Andrea," Miranda said, winking.

"I'm trying to be serious, Miranda, geez," she said. "You passed out last night—I just, I need to know, okay?"

Sighing, she agreed. "Knife play is my hard limit. Go easy on anything that has to do with asphyxiation."

"Okay," she said, nodding, making mental notes. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'm fine!" Miranda protested.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Andrea said, setting down her coffee and walking away from the counter.

"Well you did your research, didn't you?" Miranda asked. "And you can do anything, right?"

Andrea spun around, her eyes burning. "On your knees, Pet," she said.

Quickly climbing off the chair, Miranda kneeled on the ground, her eyes fixed on the marble floor. "Yes, Andrea," she whispered as her heart began to race.

"My Pet, you scared me last night," Andrea said. "You weren't properly nourished, and you lost consciousness for more than sixty seconds."

"I'm sorry, Mi—Andrea. It will not happen again," she said.

"Have you eaten today?"

"No, Andrea."

Andrea opened the refrigerator and pulled out some hummus, celery, and pita bread and placed it on the table. "Eat, my Pet," Andrea said. "You will need your strength."

"Andrea, may I ask a question?" Miranda said.


"May I sit at the table to eat?"

"Yes," Andrea replied. She bit her lip, mentally kicking herself for slipping on that instruction.

"May I begin eating?" she asked.

"Yes. Stop asking me," Andrea said.

"I'm sorry, Andrea," Miranda said. "It makes me happy to have your permission, though," she added.

Andrea thought about it, and it seemed like Miranda was actually helping her out by telling her what she likes. Maybe this is a hint, Andrea thought. "You are eating very well, Pet," she said.

Several minutes later, Andrea said, "You may be finished when you are ready."

Miranda pushed the plate away and said, "thank you, Andrea. I am finished."

"Very good," she said. "Now, follow me, Pet." Miranda followed Andrea up the stairs and into the bedroom. "This room is not very tidy, Pet. Straighten the sheets and pick up this stuff," she said.

"Yes, Andrea," Miranda responded and quickly made the bed and deposited the various garments scattered on the floor into the laundry basket in the closet.

"Now, Pet, you don't want to wrinkle your nice white blouse, do you?"

"No, Andrea," she responded. Andrea slowly began to unbutton the blouse, beginning with the right sleeve, then the left sleeve, then the buttons, working her way down Miranda's torso. Miranda gasped as Andrea's fingertips grazed her abdomen.

"Hang your blouse back in your closet," she said, pulling away and walking towards the bed.

"Yes, Andrea," Miranda said, removing the blouse and placing it back on a hanger in her closet. Meanwhile, Andrea was searching through the drawers in Miranda's bedroom until she found what she was looking for. In the top drawer of her nightstand was a pair of non-designer reading glasses and a paperback bible. The drawer seemed much more shallow than it should have been, and given the strange items she found inside, she felt around until her hand grasped a small ribbon near the back of the drawer. Lifting up released the false bottom of the drawer and revealed a range of sex toys. Selecting what she wanted, Andrea called Miranda over and instructed her to lay on the bed. She stretched the woman's arms over her head, gently cuffing them to the bedpost with the leather cuffs.

"No touching, my Pet," she said. "And, you know the rules. You are here for my pleasure. You only come on my command. And," she added, "if you're good, I'll make it worth your while."

"Ohhh, yes, Andrea," Miranda moaned, writhing on the bed.

"Pet, have you ever been in handcuffs?" Andrea asked.

"No, Andrea," she panted breathlessly.

"Do you enjoy being handcuffed?" she asked, pressing the issue.

"Yes, Andrea," she moaned, "for you."

"Pet, I want you to look at me," she said. "You may look me in the eye." Miranda's eyes were heavily dilated as she turned her focus to Andrea's burning gaze. "Very good," she said, "now lie still—don't move."

Miranda froze as Andrea crawled closer, her body hovering inches above her own. Andrea bent down and softly pressed her lips to Miranda's neck, nibbling and suckling softly on the delicate skin behind her ear and below her chin. Miranda moaned, turning her head and arching her neck, urging Andrea on.

"I said don't move," Andrea repeated, pulling her lips from the editor. She let her hands graze over the woman's shoulders, down the curve of her breasts, sitting high with her hands over her head. Reaching around, she unhooked the clasp and peeled the bra away slowly, pushing it above Miranda's head as full, heavy breasts tumbled from their restraints.

"Andrea," she said. "If it pleases you, you can suckle my breasts," she said, arching her back slightly.

The brunette's eyes darkened as she gazed down at Miranda's taut nipples, her flesh straining against her skin. She had noticed Miranda's breasts long ago, as the editor was apt to lean over her desk working on photos when the assistant approached. Every time Miranda wore a wrap blouse or that black cotton-blend dress, she imagined what it would be like to press her face between those perfect, porcelain orbs. She imagined feeling the warm flesh against her cheeks while she licked the small strip of smooth skin between, inhaling a scent that was sweet and musky, uniquely Miranda. Andrea paused, trying to consider what her reaction should be to Miranda's request.

"That is very kind, my Pet, thank you for your generous offer. I am pleased to see such concern for my pleasure," she said.

"Anything, Andrea," Miranda said breathlessly.

Andrea slowly brought her hands to Miranda's breasts, circling them, pushing them together, massaging them. Her hands were too small to hold them. She softly pressed her lips to Miranda's sternum, dragging her tongue up between her mounds. Wrapping two hands around her left breast, she began squeezing and massaging, watching as Miranda's areola grew darker. Bringing her hot, wet lips to the straining nipple, Andrea licked and nibbled and kissed her breast while the woman beneath her released tiny moans.

"Andrea," she said, her voice low and husky, "it might please you more to suck my breasts."

Andrea was slightly confused—wasn't that what she was just doing? Nevertheless, she returned her lips to the silken skin and began softly sucking.

"Oohhh," Miranda moaned quietly as the brunette continued to suck, "harder, Andrea," she whispered.

She knew that as a sub, Miranda shouldn't really be telling her what to do, but maybe it was just this once since she had asked for some help in the beginning. Heeding Miranda's words, she sucked harder while the woman's moans grew louder and longer. Suddenly, she tasted something on her tongue. Slowly releasing the breast, she saw a few small translucent white beads on her nipple.

"Does this please you, Andrea?" Miranda asked hesitantly.

"Yes, my Pet, very much so," she responded, a grin stretching across her face as she returned to the woman's breasts. For Andrea, it was immensely erotic to literally be tasting Miranda, drinking her juices from those perfect breasts. Andrea moaned as she continued suckling, moving to the other breast, then back and forth between the two. Knowing she could do that all day, she pulled herself away slowly and leaned forward, meeting Miranda's gaze. "Are your arms okay, Pet?" she asked, concerned about how long the woman had been handcuffed. Of course the leather cuffs were a little loose and wouldn't hurt her, but she wanted to make sure her shoulders weren't in any pain.

"Yes, Andrea. Thank you for being so concerned," she said.

At that moment, more than anything, Andrea wanted to undo the cuffs and pull the other woman into her arms, holding her, kissing her. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she moved further down on the bed, trailing her hands across the woman's abdomen. She slowly unbuttoned and unzipped the black skinny jeans, tugging them off the woman's body. Crawling her way back up, she softly pressed kisses along the inside of Miranda's leg until she reached her center. Pressing a single kiss to her center, Andrea slipped her hands into the lace boyshorts Miranda wore and slid them down, tossing them onto the floor. Andrea crawled up, her body sprawled out on her stomach on the bed as her mouth attached to the woman's slick folds.

"Mmhmm," she murmured, "you taste…so good…Pet," she said. Miranda bucked her hips into Andrea's face, desperately begging for release. "No, no, Pet," Andrea said. "Be still."

As Andrea continued her oral assault, Miranda's moans turned to whimpers, cries, begging for release. "You're so wet for me," Andrea said. "Your lips are so beautiful, so delicious."

"Oh god, ohgod, ohgod, pleeeease, Andrea!" she cried.

"Please what, my Pet?" Andrea asked.

"Please…please fuck me, fuck me hard," she cried.

"Oh, no, no, no," she said, pulling her lips away from the woman's sweet center. Miranda whimpered as Andrea stepped away and reached for something in the drawer. "Not yet, my Pet," she said, turning on a small fingertip vibrator and dragging it along Miranda's inner thigh.

"OooohAhhHaahhaaahh oohgod," Miranda babbled as her lower lips began to quiver. Andrea traced the vibrator around Miranda's folds, moving quickly, never staying in the same place for long. She watched as the woman's muscles flexed, eagerly awaiting her entrance. "Andreaaa, please," she begged.

Without hesitation, Andrea pressed the purple vibrator against her straining bundle of nerves while, with her other hand, she inserted two fingers and curled them up inside her. Miranda gasped, and Andrea felt her legs go rigid while her muscles inside spasmed, drawing her fingers deeper and deeper. After several minutes, Andrea turned off the vibrator and removed the pressure from her clitoris, watching as the woman's breathing returned to normal.

Slowly, she pulled her hand out from the warm folds and licked her fingers and palm clean. Miranda's eyes were closed. Andrea slowly crawled up her body and unclasped the leather cuffs, tossing the cuffs and her bra off the bed. Andrea brought Miranda's arms down, softly massaging her shoulders.

"Come here, Pet," she said as she moved back to lay against the pillows on the bed. Miranda followed, and Andrea directed her to sit across her lap. Wrapping her arms around the silver-haired goddess, she pulled her tightly to her chest, just holding her and tracing small circles on her back. "You were so good today, Pet," she said, "so beautiful and so…perfect."

Miranda looked up and sparkling blue eyes met brown filled with affection. Andrea quickly glanced down at Miranda's lips, wanting to know what they tasted of. Overwhelming desire flooded her as Miranda leaned in, crushing her lips against her own. Her lips were warm and supple, and she tasted of coffee. Her mouth exploded in passion as Miranda's tongue slid between her lips, hot and velvety. Andrea deepened the kiss, pushing Miranda back into the pillows. Miranda reached her left hand up and cupped Andrea's cheek, caressing the young woman's skin.

As Andrea moaned into the kiss, her eyes snapped open. Now, she finally understood what Miranda had meant when she said it felt like they were "flip-flopping" roles. And she agreed, it did feel good, but also very wrong. Slowly pulling away from their embrace, Andrea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My Pet, you have been very good today, but remember, you are here for my pleasure."

"Yes, Andrea," Miranda said. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. But I want you—inside me—right now, Pet."

Miranda jumped up and began sliding Andrea's pants off, tossing them to the floor. Without hesitation, she took Andrea's sensitive bud in her mouth, her velvety tongue sending sparks through the brunette's body as she circled. Miranda guided Andrea's left leg onto her shoulder, then began dipping her fingers in the slick, wet folds, licking her fingers each time she pulled out of Andrea's writhing body. "Andrea," she hummed, "Is this pleasing you?"

"OOhh yes, fuck, it feels so good," she moaned. "Oh god, more, deeper," she cried, her left hand reaching out, balling the duvet cover in her hand.

"Andrea, may I step away for a moment?" Miranda asked.

Andrea looked up in confusion, her arousal clouding her thoughts. "Okay, yes, whatever," she said, pressing her own fingers to her core, relieving her ache at the loss of Miranda's touch. Soon, Miranda came running back into the bedroom, panting, and went directly to the bathroom.

"My Pet, wheeereee are you?" Andrea moaned, arching her back, letting her head fall back against the pillows.

"Right here, I'm right here, Andrea," Miranda said as she reassuringly reached down and began rubbing Andrea's clitoris. Miranda took the young woman's fingers in her mouth, licking any remnants of her juices on her fingertips. She picked up the dildo she retrieved from the den and began licking it, spitting on it to ensure it would be painless for Andrea.

Slowly, she began teasing Andrea's entrance, only entering an inch. "Andrea, darling, is this okay?" she asked.

"Oh god, yes, mooree!" she cried. "Deeper, oh shit, fuck me!" she panted.

As Miranda slowly pressed the dildo in further, she asked again, "Andrea, is this okay? Are you adjusted?"

"I had my fucking fist up there last night," she cried, "just shove it in!"

Miranda held back a laugh at Andrea's desperate outburst and instead, did just as the young woman asked, thrusting the dildo in the remaining six inches. "Oooh— ohh—ohh—ohh—ohh, shit! Oh shit, fuck, I'm so full, fuck, move!" she cried as she wriggled her hips.

Miranda gently moved the dildo out a half-inch and back in, increasing in speed as she bent down and took Andrea's sensitive bud in her mouth again, licking, sucking, nibbling with her teeth.

"OOOOH FUCK! MIRAAANDA!" she cried as her torso curled up, her muscles contracting uncontrollably. Miranda flinched at her name, but only for a second, as she knew Andrea was in no state of mind to consider a correction

Miranda released her clitoris, but maintained her thrusting as she hovered over the woman's core. "Andrea, you are so beautiful," Miranda whispered as the waves rippling through the young woman eased. She slowly slid the dildo from her folds, savoring every drop of Andrea's sweet juices as she licked it clean.

"Come here, Pet," Andrea said. Miranda gladly crawled up into Andrea's arms, resting her head on her chest. Seeing her nipples straining through the purple cotton tee, she gently reached up, brushing her hand over ever-so-softly. "Ohhh," Andrea moaned at the unexpected contact. Miranda cupped her breasts firmly, massaging and squeezing them. "Oh godddd, please," she moaned, arching into Miranda's touch.

Miranda bent over and took her nipple in her mouth, sucking through the thin fabric. "Off, off," Andrea moaned, pushing Miranda away just long enough so she could pull the tee over her head, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Miranda looked down at Andrea, deliciously naked, lying in the center of her bed. "Andrea, let's reposition, huh?" she said. Miranda crawled over Andrea and lay on her back, pulling Andrea on top of her. "Is this okay, Andrea?" she asked.

"Yes, Pet, it feels wonderful," she said as she began grinding her pelvis against Miranda's lower abdomen. Miranda tugged her lower until her breasts were pressing into her face. Andrea felt Miranda's nipples against her stomach as their bodies pressed together.

Andrea wasn't sure if she was still riding on endorphins from earlier or if Miranda's lips and tongue were really that talented. Never before had she been so aroused from nipple stimulation, though. As Miranda continued her assault on Andrea's breasts, she reached her hand around, cupping Andrea's firm cheeks, slowly and delicately grazing her finger around her other orifice.

"Ooh!" Andrea gasped, sitting up at the strange feeling.

"Andrea, is this okay?" Miranda asked. "You can use your safe word if you need to," she reminded her.

"No, no, it's fine. It's just…it surprised me," she said.

Miranda returned her attention to Andrea's breasts, sucking and biting while the young woman's muscles began to quiver. Miranda felt her wetness pooling against her abdomen and grew increasingly more aroused at the thought of the young woman licking her own come off her stomach.

Andrea's breathing quickened as she circled her hips along Miranda's torso, trying to find the right angle. Miranda released her breasts from her mouth and guided her farther down her body, moving her leg so that Andrea now only straddled her partially-bent right leg. Miranda pinched and tugged at Andrea's nipples while the brunette crushed herself against her thigh.

"Ooooh, oho, oho, oh!" she moaned. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as her chocolate tresses tumbled down over her shoulder. Miranda was mesmerized, watching the young woman unravel before her eyes. Andrea collapsed into the bed. "That was amazing," she said, "thank you, Pet." Andrea slowly pushed herself off the bed, heading to the bathroom.

"Andrea, where are you going?" she asked, feeling a shiver come across her very naked body.

"To shower—sorry, may I use your shower, Miranda?"

"Of course," she said, "please, you don't have to ask. Andrea, is everything okay?"

"Yes, Miranda," she said, "it's fine. I'll be finished in two minutes."

As Andrea shut the bathroom door, Miranda watched in confusion. Weren't things going well? Did she say something to upset her? Miranda couldn't figure it out and just presumed it had something to do with Andrea being uncomfortable in her new role….hopefully that's all it is, she thought.

In the shower, Andrea quickly washed her hair and body. She couldn't explain why she ran from Miranda so quickly, but something inside told her she needed to run or she would be in too deep. As much as she tried to play the role, she was head over heels in love with Miranda Priestly and tumbling fast.

Andrea stepped out of the shower, and wrapped herself in a towel. She towel-dried her hair, then piled it on her head in a messy bun. She brought a change of clothes in her bag, which was, as she recalled, downstairs in the hall. Stepping out into the bedroom, Miranda was nowhere to be seen. Andrea continued heading downstairs to grab her bag, then ran up the steps to change in the bathroom. Slipping on her skinny jeans and cotton crewneck, she hung the towel on the rack. Before she left the bedroom, she picked up their pile of clothing from the floor and tossed it into the laundry bag in Miranda's closet. One last glance at the bed, Andrea headed back downstairs.

"Miranda?" she called.

"In here," Miranda called from the kitchen.

"Oh," Andrea said, seeing Miranda leaning against the counter with a glass of water. She was wrapped in her grey robe, her eyes looking slightly puffy. "I, uh, just wanted to say bye," she said.

"You don't have to leave, Andrea," Miranda said quietly. "You are welcome to stay."

"Miranda, I don't feel comfortable in your house if you're not here. Now, you have just under an hour before Roy will be here to pick you up for James Holt's party," she said. "But thank you for the offer."

Miranda gasped, bringing her hand up over her mouth. She had completely forgotten about the party. Her eyes glanced at the clock—it was 7:30pm and the party started at 8. Roy was to pick Miranda up at 8:15pm. "I—I forgot," Miranda said, blushing. "I—is that why you got up so quickly?"

"Yes," Andrea lied. "I'm sorry—I didn't want you to be late because of me."

"Thank you, Andrea."

"My pleas—uh, of course, Miranda," she said. "Enjoy yourself tonight, and, uh, I will see you on Monday," she said, turning and walking out of the kitchen.

"Andrea," Miranda called, following after her. "As you know, I do not plan to stay at the party, as I am just merely making an appearance. Would you consider having a late dinner with me?" she asked. Sensing Andrea's nervousness, she continued, "It will be very informal. I'm wearing a casual dress to the party, and I mean, we both need to eat, and I suspect we have somethings to discuss… But if you have plans, please, it's nothing."

"No, Miranda, I don't have plans," Andrea said. "And yes, I will join you for dinner. When and where should I meet you?"

"I'll have Roy swing by your place around 9:15 and we can go from there—is that okay?"

"Yes," she said. "See you then."

Miranda smiled as she watched the woman exit her home. The woman she had spent the past twenty-four hours with. The woman she was falling in love with.

Back at her apartment, Andrea had just over an hour until Miranda would be downstairs. She changed into a white silk top, pairing it with a bold cobalt leather cropped jacket and some silver accessories, and applied some bold eye makeup for a more dramatic look. She was too nervous to do anything, really, so she sat on the couch and scrolled through messages on her phone, wondering if Miranda was enjoying the party.

On the other side of town, Miranda was fidgeting. There was no other word for it. Nigel dropped her off at 8:45, and she kept checking the clock, eager to get back to see Andrea.

"Miranda, you look like you need a refill," James said, gesturing towards her empty glass.

"No, actually," she said, handing her empty glass to him, "I have to be going. But thank you, it's been lovely."

"Oh, Miranda, you're leaving before the fun starts!" James teased.

"I'm too old for this kind of fun, James," Miranda said with a smile. "I do have to run off now. I'll see you Wednesday for the showing?"

"Of course. Thanks for stopping by," he said as she made her way to the door.

Stepping into the elevator, she took a deep breath and checked her phone. 9:01pm and no missed calls or messages. She quickly typed a text: Just leaving Holt's—if you're still interested, I'll be by in 15 minutes. M

Andrea smiled as she read Miranda's text. As if I changed my mind, she thought. She wrote back: Of course! Ready and waiting (and starving)… see you soon! A

Miranda directed Roy to drive to Andrea's, and then to Eduardo's, and asked him to put up the privacy screen while she made a call. "Hi Bobbsey, did I wake you?…okay, that sounds fun. I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, Mommy was busy…yes…oh, really? wow…Do you know what time you'll be coming home tomorrow?…no, that's okay…If your homework is finished and your dad says it's okay, I have no problem with that…okay, Bobbsey, text me tomorrow. I love you, Caroline, and tell your sister I love her, too, okay?…Goodnight, sweetheart." Ending the call, she leaned back against the seat. Her girls were growing up so quickly. She knew she should make an effort to be there for them more, but she quickly pushed that thought out of her mind as Roy pulled up in front of Andrea's.

Miranda pulled out her phone to text that they were outside, but before she could send the message, Andrea was crossing the street to step into the car.


"Hello, Andrea. I made a reservation at Eduardo's in TriBeca—is that okay?" Miranda asked.

"Wow. I've never been there but I keep hearing great things. Aren't there lots of paparazzi there?" she asked.

"Only outside the front door. Would you prefer to go elsewhere?" Miranda questioned.

"No, it's fine. I was just concerned about you."

"Thank you," she said. "You know, they have a delicious goat cheese and balsamic flatbread here I thought you might like."

"Oh, sounds good," Andrea said.

Silence filled the car, and Andrea awkwardly fidgeted with her watch.

"You—you look nice," Miranda said quietly. "That jacket is perfect. I don't recognize it."

Andrea blushed. "Thank you, but I probably shouldn't tell you where it's from."

"Nonsense, Andrea. Need we have the 'cerulean' discussion again?"

"No," she said, "um, I got it at Forever XXI."

Miranda's eyes widened. "Are you—wow. I would not have guessed."

"You can tell it's poor quality once you put it on," she said.

"Andrea, you don't have to defend your choices to me. You look good. But even if you didn't I'd still enjoy your company."

Andrea smiled as an awkward silence again swept over them. "So, how was the party?"

"Good," Miranda said, not knowing quite how to make conversation with the young brunette.

Just then the car pulled to a stop and Roy stepped around to open the door. "Keep your eyes down and pretend the cameras aren't there, darling," Miranda said as she stepped out of the car.

Once inside, Andrea lifted her eyes, taking in Miranda's dress for the first time. She was wearing a royal blue boat-neck longsleeve Calvin Klein knee-length dress with matching royal blue suede Louboutins. The dress was perfectly tailored, but what caught Andrea's attention most was the back of the dress, or rather, the lack thereof, as her entire back was exposed. It took an incredible amount of self-control to keep herself from taking the editor in her arms right then and there.

"Is this okay?" Miranda asked once they were seated.

"Y-yes," she said. "Miranda, you look stunning. I—I'm—All I can say is I don't think I would survive dinner if I was looking at your backside instead of the front."

Miranda smiled as blush crept up her face. "Thank you," she said. "Do you have a preference for wine—or would you like a cocktail instead?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter to me, you may choose."

The server approached and Miranda quickly selected a sparkling wine and ordered the flatbread as an appetizer.

The women sat in silence, waiting for their drinks. When the server returned, he poured their wine and Andrea took the opportunity to order for Miranda and herself. Miranda wouldn't admit it, but that seemingly insignificant action meant the world to her.

"So," Andrea said, playing with the stem of her wine glass, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course."

"When did you get into the lifestyle?"

"Just over ten years ago, when I was pregnant with the twins," Miranda said.

"Can I ask why—or what made you decide to do it?"

Miranda didn't often offer information about her private life, but part of her understood the thoughts behind Andrea's questions, the need to validate her decision, so Miranda replied. "I can tell you the longer version of the story some other time, but James was not interested in me once I got pregnant—I mean, I was huge and uncomfortable and constantly horny. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced," Miranda said, taking another sip of her wine. "A friend gave me the name of a consultant—Gilles Spencer—who was a director at Alix at the time. After a quick chat, he matched me with a young man named Calvin, and he was exactly what I needed. He was young and energetic, but also very wild and needed to learn some control. He worshipped me without me asking him to, he constantly sought my approval, and really, emotionally saved me from myself. Then the twins were born and I was busier than before, and he asked for a new Mistress. Gilles knew I was pretty strict, so he kept sending me the ones who were in most need. At times it was almost like a second job," she said.

"So, how often did you see them? Was it just the occasional role play or did you dictate other aspects of their life?" Andrea asked.

Miranda waited for the server to finish refilling their wine glasses, then continued. "It depends. Some needed more, but there was only really so much I could do. It wasn't until a few years ago that Gilles asked me to take on a young woman. I mean, I always knew I was bisexual—because really, how can you work in the industry and not be affected by women—but it wasn't easy with her. She was truly broken, and I struggled to keep my mothering instincts at bay. Her family had abused her. I tried to get her to talk with a counselor, even offered to go with her. My god," Miranda said, "all I wanted do was hold her in my arms and tell her it would be okay. She was the only true masochist I'd known, and I wasn't able or willing to produce the pain she desired. One day she told me she was leaving New York, and I never heard from her again."

"I'm sorry, that must have been difficult," Andrea said as the waiter brought their appetizer. Andrea cut two squares, placing one on Miranda's plate, then one on her own.

"It was a learning experience," Miranda said, "and a bit of a wake-up call. I will always wonder if I could have saved her if I would have pulled her out of the lifestyle, given her a place to stay, a job, even. But, I guess we'll never know."

"This flatbread is delicious, Miranda," she said, changing the subject.

"Ah, yes. I'm glad you enjoy it. I've tried so many times to recreate it at home, I mean it seems so simple," she sighed. "Mine never tastes like this."

"You cook, Miranda?"

"Of course. There isn't anything I can't do, Andrea," she said with a wink.

"Okay, so back to our conversation," Andrea said, "Were you ever a sub?"

"No. I mean, unless you count with Stephen," she said, choking back a laugh. "Whenever I wonder why I ever married him, I think about how ridiculous he was in the bedroom and I feel better knowing that at least I can look back and laugh."

Andrea's eyes widened, begging for more explanation as she refilled their wine glasses, emptying the bottle.

"Stephen was only interested in the 'vanilla' stuff, and let's just say he felt the need to assert his masculinity in the bedroom."

"Did he ever hurt you?"

"Oh god, no. Just idiotic Tarzan-like behavior, that's all."

"Ahh, got it. So, do you have any tips for my new role?" Andrea asked while Miranda ordered another bottle of wine.

"Darling, there's no 'right' way. There are no set rules to follow, you just have to talk to your partner and make it about your pleasure."

"Okay, so how exactly do you see this working?" she asked. "You know, since we basically see each other every single day at work."

Miranda shrugged. "I haven't got a clue," she said. "I've never known my subs in real life, that is, outside of our activities at Alix. I never even knew some of their names. But I don't think we can play in the office during the day—it's too risky, and I can't do that again."

"Point taken. So if you didn't know your partners outside of Alix, did you not have a real relationship with them?" Andrea asked.

"Andrea, D/s is based on a relationship of trust, communication, and consent. So, yes, there was a relationship, but no, it never carried over beyond the doors of Alix," Miranda said, "and I think that was a good thing."

"Why was that good?" Andrea asked.

"Because I couldn't fall in love with them," Miranda blurted out, the effects of the alcohol clearly taking their toll. "I mean, it helped me to separate the two worlds. I never shared my private life with them, never slept with them or shared a bed. It was all very transactional, so if I hadn't seen them in a while, it was the action, the pleasure I missed, not them."

"So I'm the first?"

"First what?"

"First you've let in."

"Well, yes, I suppose so," Miranda said. "Andrea, enough with the questions. I'd like to eat in peace," she said as the server placed their entrees before them.

Andrea realized she probably pushed Miranda too far. It was true, though, and Andrea did want to talk about it, but things were moving so fast between them already, she hardly wanted to push Miranda away now.

While Miranda ate her steak, she thought about what Andrea said. Yes, she was the first she let into her home and her bed, but she could never let Andrea into her heart. She was too broken, and couldn't bear to let anyone see that, even Andrea.

"Andrea," she said quietly, "what are you thinking about?"

Andrea quickly brought her napkin up to wipe the corners of her mouth. "What do you mean, Miranda?"

"You were obviously thinking about something as you played with that piece of asparagus. What was it? And be honest."

"Um, I was thinking about trust…that you seem to trust me," she whispered, "not just here in public on a Saturday night, but everywhere—at work, at home," she said, her eyes fixed on her plate.

"Is that a bad thing?" Miranda asked.

Andrea looked up and met Miranda's eyes. "No, it's not," she said, reaching across the table for the editor's hand. "It's very good. It makes me happy."

"Good," Miranda said, turning her hand over, "You make me happy, Andrea."

Andrea smiled and slowly pulled her hand away. "So, can I talk again? You've had your peace?" she asked.

Miranda laughed, "Yes, I suppose," she said, smiling.

"I was hoping we could talk a little more about our relationship," she said. "Can you tell me more about your needs? I'm a little out of my element here," Andrea said. "It's not like we're at Runway, I can't read you perfectly here."

"Andrea, I do not expect you to read my mind. If you would like, I can try to vocalize a bit more, give you better verbal cues. But honestly, think about why you can read me so well at work—how did you learn?"

"Uh, by observing you, paying attention to every little—oh," she said, realization sinking in.

"It's okay," Miranda said, reassuringly, "it's natural to be distracted at first."

"Okay, but still. I'm…I don't know…afraid to hurt you or embarrass you."

"Relax, we'll go slowly," she said. "For starters, I meant what I said before about liking when I have your permission…even if it's for something ridiculous. But I'm not going to spell out exactly what I want you to do. You won't enjoy that, and it kind of defeats the purpose."

"Okay," Andrea said, making mental notes. "So how do I make sure that I'm not hurting you?"

"That's what our safe word is for. If you prefer, you can come up with your own, too. But if either of us is pushed to the limit, invoking the safe word means we all stop and then talk about what happened. It's for extreme circumstances, but also a safeguard so we don't have to keep checking in with one another every ten seconds."

"Okay, good to know," Andrea said as she waved off dessert and asked the server for their check. "You said that you wanted to feel cared for, to be taken care of. How else can I do that?" she asked, slipping a credit card in the check and handing it back to the server.

Miranda smiled and leaned back against the seat. "Darling, you're already doing it. If I told you specifics, you'd be self-conscious. It's just a relief to step away from Runway, to not have to make decisions every five minutes."

Andrea smiled again. "How often do you think we'll see each other like this?"

"I don't have an answer for that. I have young children, remember. I don't see them enough as it is, so I will not cut into my time with them. I think we will need to play that by ear."

Andrea nodded. The server brought the card back and she signed, handing it back. "Thank you for dinner tonight, Miranda," she said.

"You put that on my card, right?" she asked, suddenly concerned that Andrea used her own money.

Andrea nodded. "Well, should we go?"

"I suppose," Miranda said. "You know, this was really lovely tonight. Do—Would you like to come home with me tonight, Andrea?" She paused for a moment, and when Andrea didn't respond, she added, "I was thinking we could continue our conversation about boundaries. And, admittedly, I was thinking about how wonderfully I slept last night."

"Yes, I would be happy to," she said, standing up as she looked at her phone. "Roy is outside." Andrea waited for Miranda to stand, allowing her to lead the way out of the restaurant.

Miranda walked very quickly, eager to get in the car and get home. Her mind having drifted, she gasped as she stepped out of the restaurant, feet frozen in place as the camera flashes blinded her. Andrea quickly stepped next to her and placed her hand on the small of her back, which happened to be bare skin with this dress. "This way," she whispered, as she guided Miranda down the sidewalk to their car, Roy standing with the door open.

In the backseat, Andrea quickly opened her arms and drew Miranda in, softly kissing the top of her head. "We'll be home soon," she said, softly tracing circles on Miranda's back.

"I—I froze," Miranda said. "I—I don't know what happened."

"It doesn't matter. You're leaving a restaurant at midnight, you're tired, you've had some wine, it's nothing. You didn't fall or say anything foolish. And you looked fantastic anyway, so don't worry," Andrea tried to reassure the woman who was shaking in her arms. Adrenaline and alcohol never made a good pair.

Andrea reached under the seat and pulled out a fleece blanket, wrapping it around Miranda's shoulders. "Miranda, do you mind if I put some music on?" she asked.

Miranda shook her head, so Andrea pressed play on the six-disc CD changer Roy had installed in the backseat several months ago after an argument over a radio station. Leaning back against the seat, she pulled Miranda closer and softly eased her head onto her lap. "We'll be home in about twenty minutes Miranda, try and rest, okay?"

"What's the name of this song?" Miranda asked.

"Closer, by Tegan and Sara."

"Mmm, I like it," Miranda said.

"Me too," Andrea said as she softly brushed her a silver lock of hair out of the woman's eye. For the rest of the ride home, Andrea slowly moved her hand along Miranda's arm, thinking about how perfect the moment was.

When the car arrived at the townhouse, Andrea slowly patted Miranda's shoulder. "We're home, Miranda," she said. Miranda slowly opened her eyes and sat up, tossing the blanket to the side. "Ready?" she asked. Miranda nodded, and they stepped out of the car. Andrea unlocked the door and led Miranda inside. "Coffee?" she asked.

"Yes, please," Miranda replied. "I will make it, if you don't mind."

"Sure, thanks," Andrea said. "I'm just going to use the bathroom quickly."

Miranda waved her off and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. She kicked off her heels and poured herself a large glass of spring water, finishing it before Andrea returned. Carrying two mugs of coffee, she found Andrea sitting on the couch in the den. Miranda handed her the coffee and sat next to her on the couch.

"I never thanked you for what you did when we were leaving Eduardo's," she said.

"Oh, in the car? You never know when you're going to need a blanket," Andrea said.

"No, before that. With the paparazzi. You, you guided me."

"Well, think of me as your personal bodyguard," Andrea said with a chuckle, not realizing just how fiercely Miranda needed someone to do just that.

"Shall we go upstairs?" Miranda asked.

"Sure, but I thought we were going to talk?"

"If you don't mind, I'd rather just show you," Miranda said.

Andrea followed her up the stairs, her heart racing as she watched Miranda's muscles move with each step. "Two seconds," Miranda said, heading into the bathroom. Andrea smiled at the way Miranda was so light on her feet when barefoot, tiptoeing and prancing around.

"Leave your dress on," Andrea called to her while she began undressing herself. When Miranda returned, Andrea was waiting for her, clad in a blue lace bra and matching thong, wearing her Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Miranda froze, prepared to drop to her knees. "Come here," Andrea said, "Let me undress you, Miranda," she said.

Miranda gasped and held her hand up, gesturing for Andrea to not come any closer. "Andrea, you cannot do this to me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"I explained—you need to draw a line between our role playing and our working relationship," Miranda said, trying to catch her breath.

"I understand, Miranda. I would never do anything at work, especially when you asked me not to," Andrea pleaded.

"It's not just 'at work,' Andrea," she continued, "I'm sorry if our dinner tonight confused things, but when I'm 'Miranda,' you cannot say things like how you want to undress me or god knows what else, okay?"

"I—I'm sorry," Andrea said, tears welling in her eyes. She suddenly became very self-conscious and bent down to pick up her clothing from the floor, throwing her shirt over her head as she gathered the jacket and pants.

"Please don't leave, Andrea," Miranda said.

"I—I—I'm just not good at this. I knew this wouldn't work—"

"Andrea," Miranda called, her voice strong and authoritative. The young woman stopped babbling and looked up at the editor. "I'm trying to teach you. You just have to be patient, okay?"

"So, you still…?"

"Yes, of course. I'm not letting you go that easily," she said. "Now go back to whatever you were thinking before—but just be sure to call me into my role," Miranda said. "It takes a while, but you'll learn quickly," she added.

"Oh, okay," Andrea said, setting her clothes back on the ground. "Um, Pet, come here and let me undress you," she said nervously.

"Yes Andrea," Miranda purred as she took a few steps towards the young woman. Miranda turned her back to Andrea, her skin aching for the woman's touch. "Andrea, is my dress pleasing to you?" Miranda coaxed.

"Yes, Pet, very much so," Andrea said as she hesitantly placed her hand on Miranda's shoulder. "May I?" she asked, overly-cautious now.

"Yes. Please, Andrea," Miranda replied.

Andrea placed her other hand on Miranda's shoulder and slowly dragged her hands down her silky smooth back. Sliding her hand back up, she pushed the fabric off Miranda's shoulders, sliding her arms out of the sleeves. Finding the zipper on the left side, andrea quickly unzipped the dress and slid it down, off her hips, revealing a dainty nude silk thong and a backless adhesive bra. "You look beautiful, Pet," Andrea whispered as her hands traveled back up Miranda's body.

"Take this bra off, Andrea," she whispered, lifting her hands above her head and turning slightly to the side.

Examining the bra, Andrea saw that it was held by two pieces of adhesive, one on each side, under the armpit. "Pet, this will hurt if I pull it off. Maybe you can soak it in water first…"

"Just do it quickly," she said. Without hesitation, Andrea peeled back a corner, then quickly removed the strip, revealing a bright red patch of skin. "Aaaah!" Miranda cried, biting her lip at the sting.

Andrea quickly pressed her lips to the red skin, kissing and blowing on it, trying to minimize the sting before repeating the process on the other side. "I'm going to get a cool cloth," she said, "wait for me on the bed, Pet."

Miranda walked over to the bed and sat down, the painful stinging taking her breath away. Andrea returned with a cool washcloth, gently dabbing the burning flesh. "Distract me with something, Andrea," Miranda whispered as she watched the young woman's worried face.

"But your skin—" Andrea protested.

"—will be fine in the morning," Miranda said.

"How about a massage then, Pet?"

"I'll fall asleep," Miranda said, shaking her head.

"Well, umm," Andrea shrugged her shoulders. Miranda glanced down at her breasts and looked back up at Andrea, practically batting her eyes. "Well, now I have an idea," she said, smirking as she crawled up the woman's body, her lips latching onto her puckered nipple.

"Ooooohh, Andrea, talk to me," Miranda moaned.

"So sexy right now, Pet… I love the way you taste… God, I want to suck every inch of your skin," Andrea mumbled while she suckled the older woman.

"Godd, fuck, I'm so close," Miranda cried.

Andrea moved to her other breast, using her hand to continue stimulating the other. "Your tits are so fucking sexy, Pet, I love the way it sounds when I'm milking you dry," she said. Spurred on by Miranda's babbled moans, she pulled away, flicking her thumbs across the woman's nipples as she leaned over and began sucking the delicate flesh behind her ear. "Come for me, my Pet," Andrea whispered.

Miranda's orgasm crashed through her body while Andrea continued leaving a mark behind the woman's ear. Once her muscles began to relax, Andrea whispered, "On your hands and knees, Pet."

Miranda's body quivered as she turned over, kneeling on the bed. She felt her juices pooling at the anticipation of what would be next. "Hmm," Andrea murmured as she searched through the toy drawer, looking for something to use.

"The purple one," Miranda panted, "please, Andrea." She found the purple object, a smaller silicone dildo, then closed the drawer. "You need to use lube, Andrea," Miranda added, hearing Andrea open the drawer back up and pop open the tube.

"Pet, I need you to help me on this. Talk to me, tell me exactly what you need, okay?" Andrea said. "And remember you can use your safe word," she added. Miranda nodded in agreement and Andrea climbed up behind her on the bed. "Ohh, I love how wet you are for me," she said, pressing her lips to her drenched folds. "But you're a little slut aren't you? You want it in the ass," Andrea said as she pulled away and placed her hands on Miranda's firm cheeks.

"Yes, Andrea. Pleaaaase," she begged.

Andrea spread some lube on the purple dildo and gently poked Miranda with it. "Oooh!" she gasped, "No, no, use your fingers first. Loosen the muscle."

Andrea quickly spread some lube on her fingers and began massaging her orifice in a circular motion. She dipped her fingers inside, still moving in a circle as she watched Miranda's muscle relax in its puckering. Slathering the dildo with lube again, she slowly replaced her fingers with the object and continued sliding it in.

"Talk to me, Pet," she said, gently stroking her free hand down Miranda's back.

"Uhhh…it burns…so good," Miranda hissed through her teeth. "More, I need more," she panted.

Andrea slowly slid the dildo deeper inside, just up to the flared base. "Oh, Pet, it's so fucking sexy how you take it all in," Andrea moaned, feeling her own arousal building.

"Move, please," Miranda panted. Andrea slowly began pumping the dildo in and out. "Harder, faster!" Miranda cried, urging Andrea to speed up her ministrations. "Oh god, ohgodohhgod…" she panted, dropping to her elbows on the bed.

Andrea reached her arm around Miranda's waist and flicked her bud a few times, "Come for me, come now," she said.

"Ooooohh, Andreeeeeaaa!" she wailed as waves violently rolled through her body. As she was coming down, Andrea slid the dildo out and massaged the surrounding muscles. Miranda collapsed onto the bed, her hair scalp wet with perspiration.

Andrea crawled up Miranda's body, pulling her close. Miranda turned on her side to face Andrea, looking up into her eyes. "My god, Pet, you are so beautiful, so perfect. Just when I thought you couldn't get any sexier, you threw your head back and screamed my name," she said, sliding her finger underneath Miranda's chin and tilting her head up. "You make me so happy," she said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

Miranda's smile faded as Andrea pulled away and sat up on the bed. "Why don't you take a shower, and then I'll give you a proper goodnight?" Andrea said.

"Might it please you to join me?" Miranda asked.

"Not tonight, but thank you for the offer. I'll wait out here for you, Miranda."

Sighing, Miranda crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom, where she showered quickly, removing her makeup and brushing her teeth. Meanwhile, Andrea straightened out the sheets and brushed her own teeth in the guest bathroom across the hall. Folding her clothes neatly on the dresser, she climbed into Miranda's bed while she heard Miranda drying her hair.

Miranda stepped out of the bathroom in a silk camisole and matching boyshorts, turning out the light and slowly crawling into bed. "Okay," she sighed as her body sank into the mattress, "what is this 'proper goodnight' you speak of? I'm exhausted and—ooh!" she exclaimed as Andrea quickly crawled on top of her, her lips hovering inches above her own.

"This," Andrea said as she crushed her lips to the silver-haired goddess. Miranda moaned as Andrea's lips consumed her, her tongue taking control of its domain. She writhed beneath her, wrapping her arms around the young woman, pulling her closer, needing to feel the weight of the body that was consuming her.

"Ohhh, Andrea, Andrea," she moaned, "How do you do this to me?" Looking up, she met Andrea's deep brown eyes. "Darling…don't leave," she said, taking Andrea's face in her hands.

"I don't plan to," she said, turning and kissing the woman's palms as she moved to lay next to her, arms and legs draped over her body. "Goodnight, Miranda," she said, I love you, she whispered, kissing her shoulder.

Hours later, Miranda woke. The sun was shining brightly in her room, and Andrea was sprawled lazily across her. She reached for her glasses on the nightstand, then checked the clock. 11:30.

"Andrea, darling," she said, turning to her companion. Andrea groaned and buried her face in a pillow. "Andrea, wake up, I have to go do work before the girls come home."

Andrea opened her eyes one at a time, squinting in the bright light. "Miranda?"

"Yes, good morning, darling," she said, gently pressing her lips to the brunette's. "You really need to go or I will never get anything done," she said, smiling.

"Okay," she said, stepping out of bed and slipping on her clothes from last night. "Thank you for such an enjoyable weekend," she added before slipping downstairs and out the door. She left in a hurry, but was eagerly awaiting their next meeting.

Miranda threw on her robe and sat at her desk, trying to focus on the Book, but her mind kept drifting back to Andrea. She wasn't supposed to fall in love, she was supposed to be means to an end. She was supposed to be in a clear D/s relationship with her. But now, it seems like that only complicates the matter. Miranda knew she was wrong for taking on someone she already cared about—she knew it, yet couldn't help herself. Now, she knows the young woman is falling in love with her, and she knows what she should do, but again, she can't help herself.

She really is a perfect partner for me, Miranda thought. She's my domme when I need her, and she's essentially my sub when I need her—at Runway. It's too good to be true, she thought. "I need some coffee," Miranda said aloud, suddenly standing from her desk and heading into the kitchen.

That afternoon, she managed to get a little work done, then spent the rest of the evening catching up with the girls who had a lovely weekend with their father. But now, the girls were in bed and it was nearly midnight. Miranda smiled, thinking she had only been awake for twelve hours. Still, she was exhausted just thinking of the upcoming week. Half of her office was leaving on Friday for Miami Fashion Week. Miami paled in comparison to some of the larger venues, but as editor in chief, she needed to stay abreast of anything and everything.

She glanced at her phone before going to bed— 0 new messages. She knew it was foolish to expect a message from the young woman, but part of her wanted to know how Andrea's day had been and what she was doing. Sighing, she took off her glasses and turned out the light, curling into the pillow that smelled like her.

When she woke the next morning, she saw there was one message received just after she went to bed: Hi- Hope you had a good day & were able to get some work done and enjoy your time with the girls. I wanted to call, but didn't want to interrupt or take away from your time with them. I'm sure you're asleep, but I just wanted to tell you goodnight. xo, Andrea

Miranda smiled. Andrea had that effect on her.



Two weeks went by, and Andrea was upset. No, that wasn't even the right word. Pissed off was more like it. It had been twelve days since she had last seen Miranda outside of Runway. Sure, Miranda was busy. First it was Miami, then it was the Demarchelier shoot, then she needed to spend time with the girls, then the recap from Miami. But today, it was Friday afternoon and James was picking the girls up from school for the long weekend since they were off on Monday. She knew, because she had been the one to send James an email reminding him. She knew Miranda was looking forward to the time without the girls, and was royally pissed off that Miranda hadn't so much as dropped a hint, let alone an invitation.

In the past two weeks, Andrea had been going out of her way to drop hints to her boss: a sexy post-it in a stack of photographs, anonymous white roses, even leaving her lipstick on Miranda's morning Starbucks cup. She simply wanted some response from Miranda, a smile, an eye roll, a harsh remark…but there was nothing.

It was just after lunch on Friday, and Miranda's schedule was clear for the rest of the day. As far as Andrea knew, everything was in order with the next issue which was going to press later that evening, so Miranda should have some free time. Andrea made a few calls, then threw a meeting on Miranda's calendar with "Alice" at 2pm, determined to make one last effort to win the woman's attention.

MPriestly (01:22PM): Andrea. Who is Alice? Why was I not informed of this meeting earlier?

ASachs (01:23PM): Comment dit-on 'Alice' en français? ;)

MPriestly (01:23PM): Oh. C'est tout.

ASachs (01:24PM): See you soon. x

Minutes later, Miranda came out of her office. "Coat, bag," she called, "and Andrea, you're coming with." Andrea nodded and dutifully followed Miranda to the elevators. There were others around, so Miranda took the first elevator by herself, and Andrea met her in the car.

The privacy screen was already up, and Miranda was reaching over for Andrea's hands before she could shut the door. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Andrea?" she purred, her voice thick and heavy.

"Don't touch me," Andrea said, pushing away from the older woman.

"Yes, Andrea," she panted.

"No, no, no. Miranda, we need to talk. I'm fucking pissed."

"Why? What happened?" Miranda asked.

"You! I'm confused, Miranda. You never respond to anything. We haven't seen each other for nearly two weeks. I thought after last Sunday we figured things out, but apparently that's not the case. Damnit, Miranda, I don't even know how to explain this. I just feel like you're a different person."

"Well I'm sorry you feel that way, but I don't see how this is my problem," Miranda said in reply.

"Not your problem? This is exactly what your problem is! Whenever you're challenged, you become this super-bitch editor and can't even entertain a real conversation. Miranda, you're the one who wanted a clear boundary between 'Miranda' and 'Pet', but last Sunday, after you showered, the kiss—that was 'Miranda' and we weren't in our roles. I don't know what to think anymore, it's like I can't keep straight which personality you're using!"

"Are you implying that I'm some sort of psychotic?" Miranda hissed.

"No, I just wish you would be yourself and stop fucking lying to me!" Andrea shouted.

"Andrea, I have never lied to you," she said.

"Lying, holding back the truth…it's all the same," Andrea said, trying to calm herself down. She was shaking and her eyes were filled with tears, ready to fall.

"Okay, will you listen for a few minutes?" Miranda asked. Andrea nodded, so she continued. "I didn't go into detail about this the other night because I hoped I wouldn't have to…but, James scarred me emotionally. I'm not trying to blame him for my behavior, but at least I hope it helps to explain things. Years ago, he would tell me how much he loved me, then I would walk in on him with a whore that same night. He hit me once-when I told him I was pregnant-and then posed with his arm around me for various photos and events. I felt like I was alone even when I was with him, and that's when I started building my walls, which you are unfortunately too familiar with. I would have never been nicknamed 'Ice Queen' or whatever else they say if it weren't for him. But he made me—me, Miranda—feel worthless and unworthy of love, even my children's. That's when I entered the lifestyle and found people who genuinely cared for me, in these contained, complicated relationships that didn't interfere with my job. But then you came along. You saw into both of my worlds, and it appeared, you still loved me. It was fine at first, but then, oh god, Andrea, I realized you loved me, 'Miranda,' and I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry, Andrea, I didn't intend to hurt you. If anything I just wanted to keep you from getting hurt when you realized you can't love me."

Several minutes of silence passed as Miranda stared out the window.

"Thank you for explaining that to me," Andrea said softly. "I realize you don't share that with many people. And I know it's in the past, but I am so sorry about the way James treated you," she said, reaching out slowly to grasp Miranda's hand. "I overreacted, and I shouldn't have raised my voice, so I apologize. And you're right, I do love you, Miranda. And I love my Pet just because she's a part of you. You should know by now that I'm pretty stubborn, so you telling me that I can't do something just makes me work harder for it."

"Andrea, I'm only going to disappoint you. Please, don't do this. I don't want to hurt you," Miranda pleaded.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked, pausing. "Do you love me?"

"Andrea, I can't answer that. You're my employee."

"That's bullshit. You didn't seem to care about that the other night," she said, only to be met with Miranda's trademark glare. "Okay, fine. Pretend I just quit Runway to go work for Auto Universe and here I am, as junior editor of AU asking you whether you love me."

"Really? Auto Universe, Andrea?" Miranda groaned.


"Yes, yes. Okay? Yes. You're infuriating, but I do," she said.

Andrea wrapped her arms around Miranda and softly kissed her lips before burying her face in her neck. The two women sat intertwined while Miranda fought back the tears welling in her eyes.

"Andrea, this isn't the way to Alix—where are we going?" Miranda asked.

"Oh, yeah, about that. I just needed an excuse to get you out of the office for a bit, and told Roy to drive around. Sorry, did you want to go there?"

"No, no, I was just curious."

"Miranda, do you have any plans this weekend?" Andrea asked nervously.

"No, actually. I was thinking of taking Monday off," she said. "Why?"

"Well," Andrea said, pushing aside her disappointment that Miranda hadn't invited her, "I thought you might be interested in spending the weekend with me as a sort of stay-cation."

"Well that depends on whether you actually ask me," she said.

Andrea sighed, "Miranda would you like to spend the weekend with me?"

Miranda smiled. "Yes, I would love to. Where will we be staying?"

"Honestly, I was hoping we could lock ourselves up in the townhouse, but if you'd rather, I can call for a suite at the Four Seasons or perhaps the Hamptons-"

"Darling, we will stay at the townhouse, and it will be perfect."

Andrea smiled and shrugged her shoulders, "Okay, good. I'll, um, be taking Monday off, too."

"Is there something else?" Miranda asked, reading Andrea's worried expression.

"Well, actually, I guess…Miranda? Why did I have to invite myself to your house?

"You're my assistant. I would have had no way of knowing if you chose to come out of duty or will," Miranda said. "But Andrea, know that you are always welcome in my home."

"Thank you," Andrea said as she curled up against the older woman as they drove around the city. "Miranda, do you have to go back to the office?" she asked.

Miranda felt Andrea's hand playing with the buttons on her silk blouse, setting her skin on fire. "I really should make a few revisions to the Editor's Letter before it goes to press," she said, her voice trailing off as Andrea began gently nibbling at her neck. "Oooh!" she cried as Andrea bit down on her nipple through the silk blouse. "Ohhh god," she moaned, arching into Andrea's skilled tongue. "This may be the only Editor's Letter to ever have a typo, and it will all be your fault, Andrea," Miranda teased.

"So, I take it that's a 'no?'" Andrea asked.

"Andrea, stop talking and please return your lips to their earlier activity," she said as she slid down the seat, pulling the brunette on top of her.

"Ohh, Pet," Andrea growled, "you are all mine. I'm going to fuck your brains out, right here on Fifth Avenue."

Miranda gasped as Andrea ripped her blouse off, buttons flying every which way. She kicked her heels off, squirming as Andrea unclasped her bra and began to work on her skirt. "OOooh, Andreeea," she moaned, "touch me, please, oh god."

Andrea slid her skirt off, followed by her pantyhose and underwear, leaving the editor completely naked, sprawled across the backseat of her towncar. Reaching up, Andrea pressed a button to open the moonroof, watching Miranda's nipples harden at the cool breeze. "My Pet," Andrea whispered, hovering inches above her, "I want everyone in New York City to hear you scream my name. I want them all to know you're mine," she said.

"Yes, yes!" she cried.

Andrea slid her hand down Miranda's body, between her breasts and across her torso, softly cupping her sex. Bringing her hand up to her lips, she snaked her tongue around each fingertip, moaning in delight as she tasted the woman's juices. Reaching back over, she slowly pressed her palm to Miranda's clitoris, moving in slow circles, teasing the aroused editor.

"Ohhhhhhhh, Mmmmmmmm, Yess," she moaned as she thrust her hips upward to meet Andrea's hand.

"No, no-no, not yet, my Pet." Andrea slowly slid two fingers inside Miranda's slick folds, gently massaging her clit with her thumb in short, sporadic intervals. "You're so wet for me, Pet. Listen to the slurping sounds you're making as I reach inside you," she said as she slowly pumped her hand in and out. "Touch your breasts, Miranda, pinch your nipples."

"Aaah," she cried, "ohh gooooood, Andreaa! So close, so close," she cried as tears rolled down the side of her face. "Andreeea, please… take me… I'm yours," she panted.

"And I am yours," Andrea whispered as she buried her face in Miranda's folds, licking and sucking the copious fluids. She felt Miranda's right leg stiffen and begin to quiver, only serving to intensify her appetite for the goddess.

"Andrea… I'm… I'm comiiiiiingg!" she cried, gasping at the intensity of her orgasm. "Aaaandreee—" she cried out, her voice faltering as her torso constricted, causing her to sit up, her mouth in a perfect "O."

Andrea felt her muscles clamp down around her hand, pulling her deeper within. Softly kissing her clitoris, Andrea crawled up the woman's body, stilling her hand inside as she lay atop the woman. Several minutes later, Andrea slid out her hand and gazed down at the silver-haired beauty whose eyes were still shut, tiny waves continuing to course through her veins.

Miranda opened her eyes and met the brown-eyed gaze, weaving her fingers through her long hair and tugging her close. Their lips locked in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. "Oh god, I love you, Andrea," Miranda mumbled, speaking directly into Andrea's mouth.

"I love you too," she said, pulling away and closing the moonroof. "You weren't really considering going back to Runway, were you?" Andrea asked.

"Actually, I was quite serious about the Editor's Letter," she said. "If it's as bad as I think it is, I may have to fire someone for their failure to include the correct version," Miranda said.

"Well, I think you are going to have to plot some lowly press worker's demise from home, because your clothes are in no condition to return to the office," she said, holding up a torn skirt and blouse.

"Let's go home," Miranda said. Andrea nodded and gently knocked on the privacy glass, signaling for Roy to take them to the townhouse. Andrea helped her to slip into her long jacket and handed her the belt from her dress to fasten the jacket shut.

As the car pulled up at the townhouse, Andrea tossed any remaining articles of clothing into her bag and promptly stepped out first, offering her hand to Miranda as she exited. Miranda walked around and tapped on Roy's window. "Roy, take the weekend off," she said. "I won't need you until Tuesday morning, since Andrea and I will be…busy."

Roy blushed furiously, but maintained a straight face while fixing his eyes on the road ahead of him. "Yes, Miranda. Thank you," he said. "See you Tuesday."

Andrea wrapped her arm around Miranda's waist and led her up the stairs into the house. Once inside, Miranda quickly locked the door and spun around, pinning Andrea to the heavy oak door. "Now, it's my turn…Pet," she said with a devilish grin.

Hours later, Miranda laid on the bed in Andrea's arms, both women thoroughly spent from hours of vigorous activity. The rumblings of Andrea's stomach broke the silence, causing the brunette to giggle. "I, uh, guess I'm a little hungry," she said.

"You certainly worked up an appetite, darling," Miranda said before quickly turning her head away and sneezing into her pillow.

"Bless you," Andrea said, smiling. She couldn't recall exactly when Miranda started referring to her as 'darling' when they were in private, but of all the things Miranda called her, this was by far her favorite. They slowly climbed out of bed. Miranda searched the floor for her clothes, but then remembered they were in Andrea's bag, which they discarded abruptly in the foyer when they arrived. "I need a really quick hot shower," Miranda said. "Do you think your stomach can hold out a few minutes?"

"Only if I can join you," Andrea said with a smirk.

"Well, I guess, but only because it's more efficient," Miranda said, walking into the bathroom. As they stepped into the steamy shower, Miranda turned to face Andrea who was piling her hair in a messy bun on her head. "May I wash you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Andrea said, cupping Miranda's cheek and placing a soft kiss on her lips. "But I am seriously hungry, so let's stick to that efficiency plan, okay?"

Miranda nodded as she ran a soapy loofah across Andrea's shoulder blades. Once finished with Andrea's body, she used the same loofah on her own skin while Andrea stood under the spray, rinsing the suds away. As she moved under the spray, arching her neck so her hair wouldn't get wet, Andrea noticed a large red mark on Miranda's neck.

"Mmm," Miranda hummed as she turned off the water. "Get me a towel," she said. Andrea quickly stepped out and handed Miranda a towel before retrieving one for herself.

"Um, Miranda?" Andrea said, hesitating to point out the hickey.

"Andrea, what would you like for dinner?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter," she said, her stomach's growling interrupting their conversation yet again.

"Hmm, something quick," Miranda said, swiftly slipping into her robe. "You just relax or do whatever you need up here. I'll call you when dinner is ready," she said, smiling as she slipped out of the bathroom and headed downstairs.

Andrea finished drying off and slipped on a pair of Lululemon pants and a longsleeve cotton tee she pulled from Miranda's drawer. She loved how the clothes smelled like Miranda. Closing her eyes, she curled up on the bed, clutching Miranda's pillow while she waited patiently for dinner.

Once downstairs, Miranda quickly ordered a medium thin-crust tomato, mozzarella, and basil pizza from the local pizzeria around the corner. She pulled some lettuce out of the fridge and made a nice salad, setting out two bowls and plates, as well as two water goblets and wine glasses.

She sneezed again, this time into her sleeve as she was in the kitchen and tried to contain the germs. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she was suddenly aware of how congested she was. What was going on? she wondered. She had no allergies, and hadn't been near anyone sick in weeks. While waiting for the pizza, she took a few vitamins and drank a glass of orange juice, hoping it was just a figment of her imagination.

Less than ten minutes later, Miranda called Andrea down to dinner. She had transferred the pizza to a large platter and was just now serving salad. "I hope this will do, Andrea," she said.

"This looks perfect, thanks," she said, grinning. Who knew Miranda Priestly could be so common, she thought. Neither woman spoke much over dinner, but Andrea noticed that Miranda hadn't touched her wine. "Is something wrong with the wine?" Andrea asked.

"Oh, no. It's fine," Miranda said, touching her napkin to her nose. "I just don't feel like any alcohol right now," she said, turning away from the table and sneezing.

"Bless you!" Andrea said. "Are you getting sick?"

"It's nothing, just a cold, I think," Miranda said. "I'm so sorry, Andrea."

"Miranda, you do not have to apologize. Hey," she said, reaching over and taking Miranda's hand. "I just want you to feel better, okay?"

Nodding, Miranda pulled her hand away and excused herself, and Andrea heard her blowing her nose and coughing in the bathroom. She cleared the table and wrapped the leftover pizza in foil, grabbing a few bottles of spring water to bring upstairs with her.

"Miranda," she called, gently knocking on the bathroom door. "You need some rest, let's get you upstairs to bed," she said. When she opened the door, Andrea was surprised at the change in her appearance. Her eyes were puffy and teary, and the tip of her nose was a pale shade of pink. "Come on," she said, taking her by the elbow, "it's late."

Andrea fluffed some pillows for Miranda and left a bottle of water on her nightstand. The editor refused any sort of medicine or pain reliever, so Andrea turned out the light and climbed into the other side of the bed.

"You're staying here?—with me?" Miranda asked.

"Of course, what did you expect?"

"I don't know, I just, I don't think anyone has ever done this."

Andrea scooted closer and wrapped her arm around Miranda's waist, gently kissing her shoulder. "I'm taking care of you now," she said. "Try to sleep," she added. Miranda sighed and drifted off to sleep.

For the rest of the weekend, Andrea made sure they laid low, ensuring Miranda got enough rest to overcome her developing cold. They spent much of the day Saturday in bed, cuddling and chatting mindlessly about Runway, the weather, anything except their relationship. Sunday was spent reading through the newspaper and watching movies on television.

"You know," Andrea said, "I like it best when you're like this, just Miranda." Miranda smiled.

"You know, it was rather boring, I'm afraid," Miranda said, her voice noticeably more hoarse. "My life didn't become interesting until I began working at Runway, and, well, I'm sure you know everything after that since it's all on Wikipedia."

"But Miranda, I want to know about all that boring, uninteresting stuff, really!" Andrea pleaded.

"Fine. As a child, I was surely a terror to my parents."

"Do you have any siblings?" Andrea questioned.


"Uh, where did you live?" Andrea asked.

"Michigan, near the university. My father was a scientist—a professor. My mother, well, she was a lot of things," Miranda said.

"I can't picture you as a child, Miranda," Andrea said, hinting that she needed more details.

Miranda sighed. "I was overly confident, outgoing, smart, argumentative, really good around adults. I always kept my hand on my hip," she said. "My relationship with the girls has never been what it should be," she added. Andrea could see her thoughts drifting as her eyes grew distant.

"You still have time, you know," Andrea tried to reassure her, "I'm sure they will love to get to know the real you."

"What makes you think they don't?" she snapped.

"When was the last time you shared even this much? Do I know more about your childhood than they do?" Andrea said, her tone slow and even.

"Ok, fine." Miranda said. "It's just, what if they get mad at me, or something?"

"Miranda, they're teenage girls. They will get mad at you. They'll hate you, they'll love you…all of the above," she said. "But love is about taking that risk, right?"

"I suppose," Miranda said. "What about you? Tell me about your childhood," she said, changing the subject. Andrea sighed and began telling Miranda stories of her youth growing up outside Cincinnati, Ohio. They talked for hours, and Miranda was delighted to know so much about this fascinating young woman.

The next morning, Miranda woke up to Andrea's tongue circling the skin behind her ear. "Good morning, Pet," Andrea said, "How are you feeling today?"

Miranda took a deep breath, trying to stifle her moan. "Much better, thank you, Andrea." The past three days afforded her the opportunity to sleep in past 5am, sometimes past noon, and she was incredibly grateful that Andrea let her take full advantage of her time to rest.

"I missed you," she said, curling her tongue around the shell of Miranda's ear. Andrea slowly moved down Miranda's body, licking and sucking every inch of her skin as she moaned and writhed beneath her. "You are so beautiful," she whispered as she kissed the soft skin of her lower abdomen. "I love you," she said as she plunged her hand between Miranda's legs. She quickly moved up to catch Miranda's mouth in her own, swallowing her protests while their tongues danced. Miranda wrapped her arms around Andrea and curled alongside her body. "Miranda," she said, "I think we both need to work on self-control, considering we have to be back in the office tomorrow."

She felt Miranda stiffen next to her, not saying a word. Andrea hugged her tightly and softly kissed the top of her head. After nearly ten minutes of silence, Miranda whispered, "the girls are coming home this afternoon."

"I know," Andrea said, "I should probably go so you can get ready. Miranda," she added as she stood from the bed, "when can I see you again?"

"I don't know," Miranda said. She was sitting up now, leaning against the headboard, but her eyes were fixed on the comforter wrapped around her.

"Don't do this…" Andrea warned.

"Andrea, my world is on a see-saw right now. My girls are coming home, and they will be home for the next two weeks. I just need more time," she pleaded.

"Okay," Andrea said, knowing she needed to make allowances like this. "As long as you don't forget."

"I doubt you'll let me," Miranda said.

Andrea dressed and left the townhouse , leaving Miranda curled up in bed, inhaling Andrea's scent from the pillowcase.

The next morning, Andrea arrived at Runway earlier than usual. She texted Roy a quick note: Morning! Tell Miranda to smile today, will you?

Roy immediately wrote back: On my way there now. I'm not risking my job for you, Andy!

Andrea quickly replied: Please? Then tell her you have a message from me & I'm asking her to smile. I'll bring you that Italian Beef you like from Buona…

Roy replied: Tempt a man with food and he'll always concede. She's all yours when she gets in, though!

Andrea replied: Thx, you're the best! :)

Miranda's Tuesday schedule was jam-packed with twice as many meetings as she typically has. Andrea wondered if Emily just rescheduled all of her Monday meetings for Tuesday just to spite them for taking a day off. When Miranda strolled in, tossing her coat and bag to Emily, she kept her eyes down as she spoke, purposely avoiding Andrea's eyes.

After Miranda was situated in her office, Andrea brought in a bottle of Pellegrino and a glass. "Good morning, Miranda," she said, pouring the glass of water and setting it on the marble coaster. "Did the girls have a good weekend away?"

Miranda's eyes fluttered at the unexpected question and she looked up, unable to keep from beaming at the lovely brunette before her. "Yes, they had a wonderful time. James took them and a few friends to see Mamma Mia! on Friday night, then they spent the rest of the weekend in Boston." Miranda sat back in her chair, contemplating the young woman in front of her. "Thank you for asking," she said.

"Of course, Miranda. Did they get in late last night?"

Miranda could tell that Andrea was dying to ask if she missed her, and of course the answer was yes, but recognizing that their conversation could easily be overheard, she replied with just the facts: "Yes, actually, they didn't return until nearly 8pm, at which point they had to finish several homework assignments for school today. I'm looking forward to hearing more about their trip tonight."

"I see. I'll make sure you're out of here in time," Andrea said, stepping away and returning to her desk.

"Well," Emily said, "Aren't you just chatty Cathy over there?"

"What are you talking about? She mentioned that her girls were gone for the weekend. I was just making conversation," Andrea protested.

"Bloody hell, Andy. One does not make conversation with Miranda. I'm surprised she hasn't fired you yet. Someday, someday…" she muttered as she ran off to the Accessories Department.

Andrea sat at her desk and checked Miranda's calendar—four conference calls back-to-back! Sighing, she opened up solitaire on her computer while she waited for Miranda to finish her calls and send them on some errands. A few hours later, she decided to make some tea in the kitchen. As the electric kettle went off, she had an idea. Quickly pouring two cups of tea, she returned to her desk and opened an instant message.

ASachs: Can I bring you a cup of tea? You've been locked in your office all morning.

MPriestly: Would you mind? And some Tylenol.

ASachs: Oh no…anything else?

MPriestly: No. Call is on speakerphone so be sensible.

Andrea was grateful for Miranda's warning. She quickly took two Tylenol from her drawer and returned from to the kitchen to grab the tea, slipping a miniature macaroon onto the plate before she quietly entered Miranda's office, shutting the door behind her.

Miranda was leaning back in her desk chair. Her eyes fluttered open when Andrea set the cup and saucer on her desk. She handed her the two capsules and held out her glass of water. Once she swallowed the pills, she handed the glass back to Andrea to put on the desk.

"Thank you," Miranda mouthed to Andrea, careful not to let her voice be heard on the conference call.

Andrea nodded. "What's wrong?"

Miranda lay her hand on her throat.

"Can I do anything? Pineapple is good for your throat," Andrea mouthed.

Miranda shook her head.

Andrea leaned forward and lifted one finger, reaching across to Miranda's computer. Miranda quickly swatted at Andrea's hands, but stopped when she saw that she was opening an instant message to Emily.

MPriestly: Find me some pineapple…fresh. And some ice chips.

ECharlton: Yes, Miranda. I'll leave right away.

MPriestly: That's all.

Miranda lifted her hand up to cover her mouth, stifling her laughter, but Andrea could still see the way her eyes were smiling. Andrea quickly said "I love you" in sign language (or was she saying "eye love you"?), and slipped out the door as quietly as she entered. Several minutes later, she received another message.

MPriestly: I missed you last night.

ASachs: Me too.

Later in the afternoon, Miranda had several back-to-back meetings with the executive board up on the forty-ninth floor, leaving Emily and Andrea with time to prepare for Wednesday morning's run-through. At 6pm, Emily announced that she was leaving, so Andrea stayed, waiting for the Book…and for Miranda. She knew the only food Miranda had eaten all day was the pineapple smoothie Emily managed to find. Making her decision, she called Smith & Wollensky and ordered Miranda a petite steak and talked them into delivering it up to Runway.

When Miranda finally returned from her meetings, Irv Ravitz was on her heels, saying something about needing to adjust the ad-to-content ratio to drive revenue. "Irv, I'm sorry," Miranda said, "We will need to finish this conversation at at another time. As you can see, you're intruding upon my dinner," she said, gesturing towards the plate Andrea had left.

Once Irv left and was safely tucked into an elevator, Miranda called Andrea into her office. "Thank you," she said, sighing as she devoured the steak, "I didn't realize how hungry I was until I saw this plate."

"Miranda," Andrea said, "it's after 8pm, you should go home to the girls."

"What? No, I have to finish reviewing the P&L," she said.

"I will finish it for you and email it," Andrea said. "You can send it to Irv from your own account before you go to bed for the night."

"Nobody can do what I do, Andrea. You are crossing a line—why would you think I would even let you?"

"Miranda, it's almost time for the girls to go to bed. Go. Trust me."

Sighing, Miranda closed her eyes and bit her upper lip, nodding. Andrea retrieved her coat and bag, and on her way out, Miranda gently cupped her assistant's cheek.

Late that night, long after the email had been sent off to Irv, Miranda began typing Andrea a text message: C&C didn't expect me to come home before they went to bed tonight. I don't know how you do it, but thank you for sending me home. My daughters shouldn't be so excited over seeing me for an hour a day. I need to be here more for them… She stopped typing and looked down at the phone. What was she trying to say? She was so grateful Andrea was urging her to spend time with the girls, but at what cost? Slowly deleting the message, Miranda plugged her phone into the charger and went to bed.

Sometime after lunch the next day, Andrea decided to bring Miranda a cup of tea and some Tylenol again. She could tell even during the run-through, Miranda was exhausted and run-down. Setting the tea down on the desk, Andrea stood in place, forcing Miranda to acknowledge her.

"What's this for?"

"You, Miranda. Roy wouldn't deliver my message today. I wanted him to wish you a Happy Hump Day," Andrea whispered. Miranda blushed, her thoughts instantly calculating how long it had been since she touched the younger woman's lithe body. "Can I do anything for you, Miranda?" she asked.

Miranda shook her head. "I'm so tired, I don't know how long I'll last."

"Take a nap," Andrea urged. "I can block off time on your calendar and you can rest on the couch."

Miranda looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "No, I can manage."

"Okay, but you'll leave promptly at 5pm and go home."

"Yes, Andrea," Miranda responded as a chill swept through her body. To say she missed Andrea was a far cry from the way her body was reacting to the young woman's presence.

That afternoon, all Andrea could think about was how she longed for Miranda, to be near her, to love her. Promptly at 5pm, Miranda left, asking Emily to get the key from Andrea so she could deliver the Book. Andrea was slightly disappointed, knowing she wouldn't be going to Miranda's every night, even though she hadn't been visiting.

"Well, you must have royally pissed her off," Emily remarked, "She clearly no longer trusts you with the key to her home." Emily held her hand out while Andrea took the key from her purse. Emily's words stung, but she knew there had to be some other explanation—Miranda wouldn't push her away so quickly and impersonally, right?

"Okay, well, I'm going to head out, too," Andrea said. "I have a few errands to run and—nevermind, you don't care." She threw her coat on her shoulders, signed out of her computer and grabbed her phone and purse before heading out. In the elevator, glancing at her phone, she saw a missed text message from Miranda: Come over? After Emily delivers the Book?

Andrea quickly replied: Of course. Is everything okay?

After several minutes, Miranda wrote back: Not really. I don't know what's going on…I just, I need you. It's insane.

Andrea smiled in relief: Not insane. In love. See you soon :-*

Waiting a few hours, she texted Emily, asking her if she was still at the office, if she could see if her earring was on her desk.

Andy, I am not at Runway. I will be dropping the Book off in approximately three minutes, after which I will not answer my phone unless it is Miranda calling. -EC

Smiling, Andrea quickly hailed a cab and headed to the townhouse.

There, on the other side of town, the girls are doing homework at the kitchen table while Miranda tried to relax and watch some television. After she hears Emily deliver the Book, she realizes her heart is racing. Andrea will be coming by soon. A soft knock at the door jolts her from her thoughts as she gets up and runs to the door on her tiptoes, sending the girls back to the kitchen to finish homework.

Seeing Andrea's smiling face through the peephole, she smiles and lets her in. Andrea leans in as if to hug her, but pulls away, cautious of the twin sets of eyes watching her from the entryway to the kitchen.

"Girls," Miranda said, gesturing for Andrea to follow her into the house, "You remember Andrea, right?"

"Yes, hi Andy," they said.

"We're just going to chat for a bit, okay?" The girls nodded and headed back to their homework, while Miranda led Andrea into the den, where their television was. Andrea sat on the sofa with Miranda—close, but not too close. She felt the girls keep peering around the corner at them, and felt the need to maintain a level of decency for their sake.

"I didn't know you liked Keeping up Appearances, Miranda," she said.

"Well I'm not exactly a Hyacinth Bouquet fan, but I've watched this show for years."

Andrea mimicked the way she said Hyacinth's name and they both started cracking up. Andrea loved the way Miranda laughed, and as much as she enjoyed hearing and watching her, it was agonizingly difficult to keep her hands to herself.

"You know," Miranda continued, "Edna Washington, on the Elias-Clarke board of directors, she is just like Hyacinth." After enjoying a few more laughs, Miranda wipes the tears from her eyes and excuses herself to get a glass of water. "Girls, how is it going?" she asks as she reaches into the fridge for a bottle of Pellegrino.

The girls answer her question with a confused look. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother?" Caroline asked. "Why did Andy come over? You guys aren't working on magazine things," Cassidy asked.

"Andrea is Mommy's friend, Bobbsey. I don't work every hour of the day, you know," Miranda said as she poured two glasses of water.

"Can we watch TV with you?" Cassidy asked. "Yeah, it sounds funny," Caroline added.

"There is plenty of room on the couch," Andrea chimed in. Just one room away, it was impossible to miss their conversation. "I promise I don't bite," Andrea reassured them, "but your mom here…watch out for her!" The girls giggled and squealed at the seemingly innocent comment, while Miranda blushed, handing a glass of water to Andrea before sitting on the couch herself.

Apparently it was a Keeping Up Appearances marathon, because another episode came on after the one she and Andrea had been watching. The girls sit on either side of her, while she explained a little about British humor to them. When the episode was over, Miranda sent them upstairs to get ready for bed, but they continued talking like Hyacinth the whole way up to the third floor. Andrea giggled as they heard echoes of "Hyacinth Bouquet—that's B-U-C-K-E-T!"

"Thank you for coming, Andrea," Miranda said.

"Of course."

"I—I don't know. I needed you…"

"Miranda, you don't have to explain. I enjoy spending time with you. But I know how tired you were today, so I should probably leave so you can review the Book and get to bed at a decent time," Andrea said as she stood to walk to the front door.

Miranda followed. "Goodnight, darling," she said, cupping her cheek and brushing her thumb over Andrea's full lips. Andrea's tongue darted out, quickly sucking on her thumb before she turned and left, closing the door behind her. Smiling, Miranda grabbed the Book and headed upstairs to check on her daughters.

"Mom, how long have you known Andy?" Caroline asked. She had just finished taking a shower and Miranda was helping her to braid her hair so it wouldn't get tangled while she slept.

"Oh, well, we've worked together for a year," Miranda said.

"But she has never come over like this."

"Sometimes when you girls are at your dad's, this big house gets lonely," Miranda said.

"But you don't really have friends, Mom. What do you guys do?"

"Oh, anything," she said as memories of Andrea fucking her while she held onto the banister raced through her mind. "I made her that pasta thing you like, Cass, and we just watch TV or movies or read the news."

"Oh. Cool. She's nice," Caroline said. "Yeah, nicer than Stephen," Cassidy added.

"Why would you compare her to Stephen?" Miranda asked.

"Uh, he's the only other person you've ever had here at home."

"Ah, I see," Miranda said. "What would you two think if we invited Andrea over more often?"

"Yeah, sure!" they both chimed.

"Okay, so fill me in about your friends," she said, now moving to braid Cassidy's hair. "I can't keep them straight—did you ever make amends with Juliette?"

"God no," Caroline said. She's such a bit—sorry. She's so mean. She told Adam that his girlfriend Liz had another boyfriend who's in high school, but that's not true."

"Oh wow, that is rather mean," Miranda said.

"Wait," Cassidy interrupted, "That's not it. So Liz is like Caroline's B-F-F and we know that she and Jamie are going out, and apparently Juliette saw them kissing in the locker room after gym class, so she went and told everyone that they were dykes. Jamie started crying and went to the counselor's off, and Liz got sent to the principal's office because she pushed Juliette into the locker really hard."

"Oh my," Miranda said. "Sounds like Juliette has some jealousy issues."

"Oh yeah," Caroline said. "She like only says bad and mean things about people because she thinks it will make her popular, but no one likes people like that."

"That is very true," Miranda said. "You would tell me if Juliette—or anyone for that matter—was saying hurtful things about you, right?"

"Yeah, of course, Mom," Caroline said. "I think she just ignores us now though because she's scared of you," she added, giggling.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "So is your friend okay, Caroline?" she asked. She was having a tough time wrapping her brain around the fact that her daughters were dealing with some adult issues in their everyday lives .

"Yeah, Liz is fine. Her mom had to pick her up from school, though. And get this, they wouldn't let her mom take Jamie home, so Jamie was stuck there crying in the principal's office until her nanny came," Caroline said.

"Wow. Are Liz and Jamie your new friends? I haven't really heard you mention them before tonight," Miranda said.

"Well," Cassidy said, "We kind of knew them before, and now we're just all kind of friends. A few people are mean to them, but they're really fun to hang out with."

"I'm so proud of you girls," Miranda said, pulling both of her daughters close for a hug. I raised you to treat everyone with the same amount of respect… and you're just…" Miranda buried her head in Caroline's hair as she struggled to fight back tears. "I love you girls so much," she said.

"We know," Cassidy said.

"I want to be a bigger part of your lives. I haven't really been there in the past. Will you let me?" Miranda asked.

They both nodded. "Of course, Mom. I really liked talking to you tonight," Caroline said. "Yeah," Cassidy agreed, "and Andy!"

Miranda smiled. "I am always in such a work mode, I forget sometimes that I need to switch gears and just be 'mom' for a while."

"It's okay. We love you."

Miranda hugged and kissed each of her daughters goodnight, tucking them in and turning out the light before she headed back downstairs to get the book. She had one missed text from Andrea: Goodnight. xo

Miranda wrote back: Goodnight and thank you for coming by tonight. I love you, Andrea. xo



Over the next few weeks, Miranda managed to both grow closer to her daughters and to Andrea, mostly because she was leaving work promptly at 5 o'clock. Most nights after work, Andrea would swing by either for dinner or just to visit, and at the office, the two were constantly using their Microsoft Communicator instant messages to send each other notes during the day. Miranda spent a considerable amount of time with the girls over the weekend, but the Priestly women were very happy to have Andrea as a dinner guest on Sunday evening. Andrea was counting down the days until the following Friday, when the girls would be spending the weekend with their father and she could have Miranda all to herself once again. It wasn't an ideal situation, but her love for Miranda had only strengthened over the past month, and she was willing to jump through whatever hoops Miranda laid out for her.

Friday afternoon, shortly after Miranda left, Andrea offered Emily the chance to take the night off, explaining that she would deliver the Book and Miranda would be none the wiser.

"But Andy, she entrusted me with that responsibility. You can't possibly think I will just give you her key," Emily argued.

"Look, I may have made a copy of the key a few weeks ago. Just in case. Seriously, Em, you need a break. I will totally take the blame if Miranda finds out—but think about it, has she ever so much as spoken to you when you deliver the stuff?" Andrea reasoned.

"No, she hasn't. I suppose you're right. One night won't hurt. Are you sure?"

"Yes! Now go and have fun for me," Andrea said. Emily quickly packed up her things and left the office. The Book was ready early that night, and Andrea was eager to get over to Miranda's townhouse. While she was waiting, she packed a small bag with a few new items from the closet.

By 7:30pm, she was heading up the stairs, letting herself into the townhouse. She quietly hung the dry-cleaning in the closet and set the Book on the table with the flowers. She set down her bag against the closet and slipped off her heels, tossing them into her bag as she tiptoed into the den. Silver hair peeked over the back of the sofa, and Andrea slowly crept around, finding Miranda sleeping peacefully, still in her clothes from work.

Andrea gently sat on the edge of the sofa, brushing the woman's hair from her eyes. A smile graced her sleeping lips, and Andrea leaned forward, softly pressing her lips to the editor's. "Mmmm…Andrea…," Miranda moaned as she pulled Andrea closer, deepening the kiss. After several minutes, her eyes shot open and she sat up, pushing Andrea away. "Andrea? Wh—when did you come in?" she asked.

"Hey, sorry. I brought the Book, and couldn't resist you laying here so peacefully," she said, trying to wrap her arms around the other woman.

"No, no, wait," Miranda said in protest, pulling herself to sit up on the couch. "The girls are upstairs…we can't." She could see the disappointment in Andrea's eyes. "I'm so sorry," she said, "James is stuck in Tokyo on business and won't be back for a few days."

"It's okay," Andrea said, "Really. I've waited this long—" she said.

Miranda gazed deeply into the young woman's eyes. "Too long," she said, "What are we going to do?"

"Well, we can always send the girls to a friend's house. Or, we can let them watch a movie upstairs. Or, we can give them some Tylenol PM and make as much noise as we want," Andrea said, wagging her eyebrows.

"Shut up!" Miranda said, slapping Andrea in the arm. "God, but that does sound so tempting. Do…do you think we could be…you know…quick?"

"Miranda Priestly," Andrea whispered, "Are you asking me for a quickie?"

"Must you label everything, Andrea?"

"No. And yes, I can do anything," she said, winking as she slid Miranda's skirt up and pressed her fingers to her warm, wet folds without any preliminaries.

"Ohhh ho hoo, goddd," Miranda whispered, throwing her head back as she clutched the pillow next to her. Her heart began racing as she realized just how much she needed the release, how Andrea's fingers set her body on fire in ways her own hand could never emulate.

"Mom! Mom!" the girls called as they came storming down from the third floor. Andrea quickly pulled her hand away while Miranda jumped up, smoothing out her skirt and walking over to pick up the Book from the table. Miranda glanced over at Andrea, blushing as she watched the brunette lick her fingers.

"What?" Andrea whispered, shrugging. "Do you need me to leave?"

Miranda shook her head, "Girls, what's going on?" she called as they approached the foyer, hoping they didn't question her flushed skin.

"Since we're not going to Dad's, can we watch a movie or something?" Caroline asked.

"Of course, Bobbsey. Did you want to watch Mean Girls? We could get it setup in your room and I can bring you some snacks if you want," Miranda said.

The girls took a seat at the bottom of the stairs. "Aren't you going to watch it with us?" Cassidy asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Well, you'll have to ask Andrea," Miranda said, gesturing towards the young woman sitting on the couch in the den.

"Andy!" they both shouted, jumping up to give her a hug. "We didn't know you were here. Do you want to watch a movie with us?"

"Hey girls," she responded, hugging them back. "You know, I'd love to watch a movie with you," she said as she glanced up at Miranda. Miranda shook her head ever so slightly and Andrea continued, "but your mom and I actually had plans tonight. How about we make plans to do something tomorrow? I think they're showing Grease in the Park, or we could go to a show or something."

"Really?" Caroline asked, "You'd spend time with us even though it's your day off?"

"Oh of course, sweetie," Andrea said, wrapping her arm tightly around the young redhead's shoulders. "Why don't you and your sister go watch a movie now, and then you can decide what you want to do tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, Andy!" they said. "Are you spending the night, too?"

Andrea blushed as her eyes darted over to Miranda. "I—uh—no. I think your mom is looking forward to spending time with you tomorrow morning. I'll come by later in the afternoon."

"Okay, see you tomorrow!" they called as they pounded back upstairs.

"I'll bring up a tray of snacks in a few minute, girls," Miranda called after them.

Andrea walked over to meet Miranda in the hall. "Now, where were we?" she said, slinking down to her knees, hiking Miranda's skirt up around her waist.

"Andrea!" she gasped, jumping away. "Why don't you go work on those snacks in the kitchen and I'll change into something more comfortable…and clean," she said, hurrying upstairs to avoid further contact with the sultry brunette.

Andrea chuckled to herself as she headed to the kitchen. There was nothing hotter than an embarrassed, aroused Miranda. She pulled out a kettle and heated up some oil, making homemade popcorn. Knowing Miranda would likely be a while getting ready upstairs, she pulled out the blender and made the girls strawberry smoothies, too. She added a small spoonful of whipped cream to garnish the smoothies and scooped the popcorn into three bowls: one for Cassidy, one for Caroline, and one for herself and Miranda. She carried a small tray upstairs to the girls room, and they were far too excited for the strawberry smoothies.

"Andy, can I ask you a question?" Cassidy said as she was leaving their room.

"Of course. What's up?"

"Do you like Mom?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart. Why would you ask?" Andrea said.

"Uh, well…" she stammered.

"Dad says you're just using Mom to get ahead," Caroline interrupted. "Is that true?"

Andrea sighed and pursed her lips, silently counting to ten, reminding herself that cutting down the girls' father will get her nowhere with any of the Priestly women. "Listen," she said, sitting down on the floor with the twins, "I don't really know your dad, and I wasn't there for that conversation, so I really can't speak to that, but I will tell you this: I do like your mom. I care about her, and I would never do anything to hurt her. She and I have become good friends over the past few months, and I think—I hope—she cares about me as much as I do about her. Yes, I work for her and I know how influential she is. Someday, I might ask her for a reference, or to make a call to an editor at a paper I want to work for. But, if it ever comes to that, I want you to know that I will still want to be a part of her life—of your lives."

"Even if you don't work at Runway?" Caroline asked.

"Absolutely. In fact, I'll probably try to spend even more time with your mom if I don't get to see her all day at work. Would you two be okay with that?" Andrea asked.

"Yeah," they said in agreement.

"If you ever want to ask me anything or just need to talk, you guys can call me, okay? I don't want you worrying yourselves over what other people say or what you might read, got it?"

"Sure thing," Cassidy said.

"Okay, I'm going to go back downstairs and find your mom. Let us know if you need anything else," she said, hugging each girl before standing and walking out of the room. As soon as she stepped out into the hallway, she felt a hand grab her wrist.

"Darling, I do," Miranda whispered into her ear, "I do care about you, perhaps more than you will ever know. Come on," she said, tugging Andrea down two flights of stairs and back into the den. "Thank you," she said, "I won't even apologize for James—he's such an asshole. But I am sorry it's affecting you. You handled it so gracefully, darling." Miranda curled up next to Andrea on the couch and wrapped her arms around the young woman, tucking her head into her shoulder. "You don't have to do all this, you know."

"Miranda, what are you talking about?" Andrea asked, gently caressing her cheek.

"The girls," she said. "You're going out of your way for them, and you don't have to."

"I don't mind," Andrea said. "They're good girls, and they remind me so much of you—each for different reasons. I can't help but love them."

"I don't deserve you," Miranda said, softly tracing Andrea's face while she gazed deeply into her eyes. After several minutes, Andrea turned her head, softly kissing Miranda's palm.

"I saved some popcorn for us. Wanna find something to watch?" she asked as she stood from the couch. Miranda nodded and reached for the remote, settling on some movie channel while Andrea returned from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer. She paused before entering the room, turning out the lights in both the kitchen and den, the only light in the room emanating from the LED flat-screen television. Sitting down next to Miranda, she handed her a bottle of beer and set the popcorn and her own beer on the coffee table.

"Really? Beer, Andrea?" Miranda groaned as she begrudgingly accepted the amber bottle.

"Just shut up and kiss me," Andrea said. Miranda quickly placed her bottle next to Andrea's on the table as she curled her legs underneath her and twisted around to crush her lips against Andrea's. Miranda moaned into the brunette's mouth as she snaked her arms around her, slowly pulling the silver-haired goddess onto her lap. "Miranda," she moaned, "god, I need you."

"Darling," Miranda whispered into her ear, "you know we aren't alone tonight." She slowly began trailing kisses down the young woman's neck.

"Are you suggesting we just sit here and make out like two teenagers?" Andrea asked, arching her back away from the cushions and pressing her body along Miranda's.

"Unless you have a better idea," Miranda said, gently sinking her teeth into Andrea's shoulder.

"Nooooooo," Andrea moaned, sliding down onto the sofa seat and pulling the older woman on top of her. She slipped her left hand inside Miranda's lounge pants, cupping and gently kneading her ass. Miranda spread her legs and straddled her body, lowering her center to Andrea's. She reached for the hem of Andrea's shirt, slowly sliding it up, pushing her bra up and exposing the young woman's breasts.

"Mmmm," Miranda murmured as her lips latched onto Andrea's erect nipple. She began rolling her hips, arching her back as she tried to grind her own clitoris against Andrea's body. Andrea writhed beneath her ministrations, her nerve endings on fire at the multiple sensations the older woman's body was creating. Sensing Miranda's frustration, she slipped her right hand between their bodies, roughly cupping her sex. Miranda bit down on Andrea's nipple, drowning her moan and causing the young woman to move her hand faster, creating more friction against Miranda's pants. Miranda's breathing quickened as she sucked languorously on the pert nipple. Andrea could tell she was close…one more quick thrust and—

Suddenly, the lights came on. "Mom!" Caroline gasped. Cassidy stared in silence, utterly shocked by the scene on the sofa.

Miranda quickly jumped from the sofa and covered her face with her hands, running upstairs and slamming her bedroom door in embarrassment. Andrea pulled her shirt down and readjusted her bra, sitting up to face the two preteen girls.

"Andy—what was—were you—were you making out with Mom?" Cassidy finally managed to choke out.

"Actually, yes," she answered honestly. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she added.

"So wait, Mom is a lesbian?" Caroline asked, still standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"I don't think she likes labels, so you better talk to her yourself. But I told you earlier—your mother and I care for each other very much. I love her."

"I can't believe Mom didn't tell us," Caroline said. "So much for her trying to be closer to us."

"Hey," Andrea said, "don't talk like that. I think your mom has been having a tough time lately. After the divorce, she just didn't want to lose you two. Of course she wants to be closer, but I think she might be a little scared, too. You know? Afraid of your reactions," she said.

"Well why didn't she talk to us now like you are?" Caroline demanded.

"When does your mother ever stop to explain something? I'm sure she is extremely embarrassed, and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she tells me she never wants to see me again. You two are her life, and the minute anything threatens to come between you and her, she takes action to make sure it won't happen," Andrea said.

"You really think Mom will stop seeing you because we walked in on you guys kissing?" Cassidy asked.

"Never know. Anything's possible," Andrea said. "But are you two okay with all of this?"

"I kind of suspected it," Cassidy said, "You and mom were acting really awkward earlier, then you said how you cared about each other. I just didn't realize this was already going on."

"I didn't see this coming," Caroline said. "But I guess Mom was asking a lot of questions and making a big deal about our having lesbian friends at school," she said. "Andy," she said, "I'm really sorry for ruining everything tonight."

Andrea quickly stood and walked over to Caroline. "Sweetie, you didn't ruin anything. We were actually really stupid for thinking that by turning off the lights we'd have privacy. It was wrong of us to do anything while you two were home."

"Do you think Mom will be mad at us?" she asked.

"Heavens, no!" Andrea said. "She's embarrassed, but give her time."

"Can we still go see Grease in the Park tomorrow?" Cassidy asked.

"Of course, sweetie," Andrea reassured her. "I think I better go talk to your mom, though, just to make sure everything is okay. Do you girls need anything else?"

"No, we were just bringing our bowls and cups back down," Caroline said. "You know, if you want, maybe you should spend the night here," she said. "Even if Mom pretends she doesn't want you here."

"Yeah, you should. And we'll stay far away from Mom's room and be sure to knock like fifty times if we need to come in," Cassidy added.

Andrea chuckled. "Very funny. Now, up to bed, you two. Maybe you can even make your Mom breakfast or something tomorrow," she suggested as she followed them up the stairs. "Goodnight," Andrea said quietly as she headed for Miranda's room. She waited until the girls were upstairs and had shut their bedroom door before approaching Miranda's door.

"Miranda?" the brunette called, quietly knocking on the heavy oak door.

"Andrea, you need to leave," Miranda said. From the sound of her voice, Andrea was able to gather that she was crying, and that she was leaning against the door.

"Not until you open the door," she said. "Please, I just want to see you for two minutes, and then…well, then if you still want me to, I will leave."

After a few minutes of silence and sniffling from the other side, Andrea heard the click of the lock, and she gently pushed the door open a few inches. "What?" Miranda hissed from the foot of the bed. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed with tissues scattered around her.

"I love you," Andrea said, staring dumbfoundedly at the older woman.

"What?" Miranda said, looking up as she held a tissue to her nose.

"I do. I love you. Even when you're a mess here on your bedroom floor," Andrea said, shutting the door behind her and crawling closer to her. "When you have eye makeup dripping from your chin and the tip of your nose is bright red, I love you, and nothing will ever change that."

Miranda was speechless, all of her anger and humiliation and fear melting away with Andrea's words. "You really mean that, don't you?" Miranda asked.

"Yes," she said. "And I may have already told the girls," Andrea said, bowing her head as she tried to escape the dragon's wrath.


"Miranda, I'm sorry. I didn't go into detail, but they saw what they saw, and you running upstairs to hide didn't give me many options. I think they were worried you were going to say you never wanted to see me again," Andrea added.

"Wh—what else did they say?"

"Well, they were just wondering why you hadn't shared this part of yourself with them. I told them that you were a little scared and didn't want this to hurt them in any way," Andrea said.

"Oh," Miranda said. "Yes, I suppose. But, Andrea, I need to be the one having this discussion with my children, not you."

"I know that, which is why I didn't go into detail. I mean, I couldn't lie to them—I was on the couch with my shirt and bra around my neck when they came down," she said.

"And my lipstick is smeared all over your face," Miranda said with a smirk. "I'm sorry, Andrea. I just don't know how to do—this," she said, gesturing with her hands to the space between them.

Andrea moved closer, sitting next to Miranda, leaning against the bed. She picked up Miranda's hand and gently began moving her thumb slowly along her wrist. "We'll figure it out together," she said as Miranda leaned over and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each taking in the other's presence. "What kind of mother," Miranda said quietly, "lacks such control that she ravishes her lover on the family couch in such plain sight?"

Andrea saw that Miranda was now trembling as a flush overcame her face. "Are you—?"

"Andrea, please," Miranda said, her eyes conveying more than she was capable of speaking at the moment. She knew what Miranda was asking for, but Andrea did not want to get in the habit of resolving issues with D/s play.

"Come with me," Andrea said, standing to her feet and reaching her hand out. Miranda took her hand and let herself be led into the bathroom. Andrea shut and locked the door behind them, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the water. "I will draw you a bath—you may undress now," she said.

"But, Andrea—" Miranda began to protest.

"You will undress," Andrea repeated firmly, "and you will take a bath."

"Yes, Andrea," Miranda said as she began to unceremoniously remove her clothing. Andrea sprinkled some bath oils into the tub and held Miranda's hand while she stepped in. Andrea cuffed up the sleeves of her blouse and dipped her hands into the water, gently massaging Miranda's upper back, neck, shoulders, and arms.

"Mmmmm," Miranda moaned softly as Andrea's hands pressed gently yet firmly along her skin. She felt gooseflesh on her skin, despite being immersed in the hot bathwater. Slowly, she began to relax, letting her body fall against the back of the tub as she rolled her head backward. Andrea leaned forward, her cheek against Miranda's, and slowly slid her hands down Miranda's chest, her flat palms grazing over taut nipples.

"I want you to imagine something, can you do that?" Andrea whispered into her ear. Miranda nodded and she continued, "I want you to imagine my hands, these hands, traveling all over your body, touching you inside and out. Can you do that?" Miranda nodded again. "Tell me what it feels like," Andrea said as she slowly and sensuously moved her hands up and down Miranda's arms.

"It…it tingles, at first. Your hands travel, leaving a trail of trembling skin, the shiver reaching deep within me. Your hands are so soft and smooth, and your sleek, long fingers…they dance across my flesh. I want to feel them all over…inside me." Miranda groaned and bit her lower lip, stifling her moan as Andrea's fingers flitted across her pelvis, mere millimeters from her throbbing bud. "I want to feel them insiideee," she moaned, thrusting her hips upward.

"Show me," Andrea whispered, pulling her hands back and gently kneading the tight muscles at the woman's shoulders, "touch yourself."

Miranda quickly slipped her right hand down her body, her lips parting as her fingers pressed against her clit. Her left hand made its way up to her nipple, pinching and tugging as her lower muscles tightened, quivering at the pressure from her hand.

Andrea gently wrapped her hands around Miranda's neck as she leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Come for me, come now."

Miranda's mouth opened wider as she panted, her body contorting underneath the water as waves of pleasure took over her body. The feeling of Andrea's hands around her throat served only to heighten her desire, knowing that Andrea could choke her at any moment.

Minutes later, as Andrea felt Miranda's breathing return to normal, she smoothed her hands out over her shoulders and stood, fetching a towel and holding it out to Miranda. Without saying a word, Miranda stepped out of the bathwater and let Andrea wrap her in the luxurious egyptian cotton. "I'll give you a minute," she said, heading into the bedroom.

Miranda finished drying herself and slipped on the simple silk nightdress she kept hanging on the back of her door before joining Andrea in the bedroom. Andrea had turned the bed down and was leaning against the bedpost. "Miranda, If you still want me to leave," she said, "I will."

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea," Miranda said, striding towards her young lover, "I want you to stay here, with me."

"But the girls—"

"Shhh, just come to bed, darling," Miranda purred as she slowly began to undress Andrea.

"I, uh, didn't bring anything to wear," she protested once Miranda began removing her panties. "I should probably leave my tank top and underwear on," she said.

"Let's get some sleep," Miranda said, walking back towards the bed.

"Did—" Andrea began.

"You know—" Miranda said at the same time.

"Sorry, go ahead," Andrea said.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Andrea nodded and Miranda continued, "You know, Andrea, I was just thinking of how amazing you are. No one in the world can read me how you do—it's like you can see what I want, what I think I need, and what I really need. Yo—you knew that I wanted to be punished, but you saw beyond that, how I needed intimacy and trust."

"Miranda, I'm sorry if I took it too far," Andrea said quickly.

"What? No. You didn't, not at all. You gave me exactly what I needed, even though I didn't realize it was what I needed until afterwards." Miranda chuckled, "You have me talking in circles, darling. Only you can do this to me." Miranda smiled and wrapped her arm around Andrea, pulling her close under the duvet. "Thank you for talking with the girls. Yes, it was extremely childish of me to run away, but I know I would have said things I didn't mean if I had stayed."

"I understand," Andrea said as she curled closer to the older woman, resting her head on her shoulder, falling asleep in the woman's embrace.

The next morning, Andrea awoke with a jolt, hearing muffled shouting outside the bedroom door. She quickly shook Miranda awake, and she, too, must have been concerned that someone was in the house, seeing that she immediately grabbed her cell, ready to call 9-1-1. "Wait!" Andrea said, listening closely.


Miranda softly bit her lower lip as a grin spread across her face. "Cassidy," she said, shaking her head. "Andrea, darling, I'm sorry for the early wake-up call."

"I don't mind," she said. "The earlier we wake up, the more time we have for this," she said as she pounced on Miranda under the sheets, giggling.

"My you are insatiable," she purred, "but I expect there will be knocking at the door in just a few moments—you might be advised to get dressed," Miranda said. Andrea nodded and climbed out of bed, dressing in the clothes she wore last night. Miranda wrapped her robe around herself and sat on the edge of her bed, reading through emails. "James' flight is coming in tonight," Miranda said. "I wonder if—"

"Don't," Andrea interrupted, "they want to spend time with you. Let James take them next weekend or whatever."

"But—" Andrea quickly pressed her finger to Miranda's lips, halting her protests.

"There will be time," Andrea said, "Maybe I'll have to slip some meetings with Alice on your calendar," she added with a wink.

"Andrea?" Miranda said after several minutes of silence, "how do you feel about moving in?"

"Wh—what?!" Andrea choked out. "Moving in? Here?"

"Of course, darling. It would seem to be the most efficient use of our time, and there is plenty of space so you can have several rooms to yourself if you wish," Miranda said.

"I don't know what to say," Andrea said. "Please don't think this has anything to do with you, but…I…I just can't," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Darling," Miranda said, taking her in her arms, "It's okay, I just wanted to know how you felt about it."

"It's not—I really do want to, but to explain to my family where to send my mail—I can't—I just—I'm sorry, Miranda," she cried, burying her face in the woman's soft grey robe.

"Sweetheart, don't apologize," Miranda said as she slowly stroked her back. "We can always keep your apartment, too, if you'd like. No one would have to know it's empty."

"I can't. My parents are visiting next month. There'd be too many questions," she said, sniffling.

"Do your parents not agree with your lifestyle?" Miranda asked quietly, not wanting to upset the young woman.

"No, they disagree with everything I do and everything I am. I—I can't talk about this now," Andrea said. "Actually, I should be going."

"Darling," Miranda said, standing to follow her down the stairs, "please don't be upset. You know you are always welcome here, with us, anytime."

"Thanks," she said as she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her bag from the foyer floor. "I'll call you later," she said, heading onto the porch and closing the door behind her.

Miranda sank down on the stairs, leaning her head against the railing as she stared at the back of the closed door.

"Mom, why did Andy leave?" Cassidy asked.

"Why was she crying, Mom? Did you kick her out?" Caroline said, as both twins stood at the foot of the stairs in front of Miranda.

"No, I did not kick her out. Actually…actually, I gave her the option to move in here," Miranda said, her voice shaky. "I don't know why she left."

"Were you guys arguing?" Caroline asked, joining Miranda on the stair.

"Not really. She became quite emotional when I suggested it would be more efficient for her to live here. She said something about her parents not agreeing with her choices," Miranda said. "Sh—should I go after her?" she asked. I must be going crazy, she thought, here I am, asking my ten-year-old daughter for relationship advice.

"Nah, maybe she just needs time to think. Maybe send her a text so she knows you're still thinking about her and worried," Caroline said.

"Here," Miranda said, handing her daughter her phone, "you do it. I'll just screw it up."

"Aww, Mom, give yourself more credit than that," Cassidy said. "Andy loves you. And she's so gorgeous."

"Thank you?" Miranda replied in confusion.

"Here, just click send," Caroline said, handing the phone back. Without even looking, she sent the message and turned to her girls, "Let's have some breakfast, okay?"

As Andrea exited the subway tunnel, her phone dinged—a new message from Miranda: Darling, don't be upset. I love you. I care about you. We can get through this together—whatever it takes. Call me. -M Tears streamed down her face as she read and reread the message. It was true, Miranda Priestly did care about her, and was willing to do whatever it took to keep her in her life. Andrea knew she needed to call her parents at some point—she had been avoiding their calls for far too long. And if things continued in the direction they were headed, the two would surely end up on Page Six at some point, in which case it would be better to prepare her parents in advance. Sighing, she decided she would answer the next time her mother called.

Once she was back in her apartment, she replied to Miranda's text: Will call you later…just need some time to think. Not upset with you. I love you. -A Once the message was sent, she plugged her phone into the charger and decided to take a long, hot shower.

Despite its intent, the text was not very reassuring to Miranda. "Girls," Miranda called as she finished loading the dishwasher. "Will you be okay if I step out for a few hours?"

"Sure, we have some homework to do anyway," they said.

"Okay," she said, "I'll keep my phone with me if you need anything, and if you can't get in touch with me, call Emily," she added, knowing the redhead would answer no matter what.

Miranda quickly sprinted upstairs, throwing a pair of jeans, riding boots, and a sweater on, and headed out the back door into the garage. Grateful she had Roy program her employee's home addresses into her GPS system. Speeding out of the garage, she headed for Andrea's apartment.

As she knocked on the door to the third-floor unit, she closed her eyes, reminding herself to calm down. "Miranda?" Andrea said, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she said, stepping inside as Andrea shut the door behind her. "I was worried. And…I didn't want you to be alone. You don't have to tell me anything," she reassured, "just let me hold you for a while, okay?"

Andrea nodded and motioned for Miranda to follow her to the bedroom. Miranda paused to remove her boots before joining the young woman on the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around her as she gently kissed her head.

"Where are the girls?" Andrea whispered.

"At home, doing homework. They're fine."

Nearly twenty minutes later, Miranda could feel Andrea's breathing had slowed. Burying her face in the young woman's still-damp hair, she sighed. "I've been ignoring my parents' calls," Andrea spoke quietly. "They call every weekend, and they leave messages begging me to come home, telling me they will save me from you and the horrors of New York."

"Why don't you answer?" Miranda asked after several minutes of silence.

"They won't understand. It's not even worth trying."

"What won't they understand? That you're in love with another woman? Or that the woman is me?"

"Both," Andrea said, "All of it. Jesus Christ, you're my boss, Miranda!"

Miranda took several deep breaths before continuing. "I will never ask you to choose between me and your family, darling, and I will still love you no matter what you end up deciding. But," she said, "what are your thoughts on leaving Runway? Would that make it any easier? My friend John—he was actually in my high school class—is the EIC at The New York Mirror, and he just sent me a note that he's looking for an Assistant Editor. I was thinking of recommending Trisha, but you, of course, would be an ideal candidate, too. Just a thought."

Several minutes later, Andrea turned around in Miranda's arms, her face mere inches from Miranda's own. "How would you feel if the press found out about us?" Andrea asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

Miranda reached up and cupped her cheek, "I would be worried they would taunt you, hurt you, write cruel things about you," Miranda said.

"What about you, or the girls, or Irv?"

"The girls adore you, and would just be upset with me for letting those vultures write about you. Irv can fuck himself for all I care."

"And you? Don't you care what people will think if it's suddenly revealed that your lesbian lover is half your age?" Andrea asked.

"No, I don't care. Is that what you're worried about?" she asked. "Oh darling," Miranda pulled Andrea closer.

"But you always try to keep it a secret," Andrea said, "I have to wait until after Emily delivers the book and everything."

"Darling, I lead a very public life, despite my attempts to keep things private. I know how difficult it can be, and I've seen what it's done to my relationships, friendships…I won't let that happen to you. The last hurdle was telling the girls, and well, after last night and tonight, I see that they are accepting." She paused for a few moments before adding, "This is all very new to me, you must realize. I don't think I've ever been in a relationship like this."

"I love you so much, Miranda," she said, burying her face in the woman's neck. "Oh, and before I forget, I think that position at The Mirror would be a great opportunity and I would love to be considered."

"Wonderful. I will send John a note this evening, so you have a bit of time to pull your portfolio or whatever together for him. This will be a great opportunity for you, darling," she said as she softly began stroking the young woman.

"For us," Andrea corrected. "I won't be there to take care of you during the day, but we'll figure something out."

"We will," Miranda said as she continued exploring Andrea's body, her hand gently moving down her thigh, circling her knee, then back up the inside of her leg. "And let's just forget I suggested living together. You're still welcome at the townhouse anytime, but I kind of like having the option of visiting you here," she said.

"Ohhhhh," Andrea gasped, her body overcome with emotion between Miranda's scent, the sound of her voice, and the movement of her arms. "Uuh!" she gasped as Miranda's fingertips danced around her trembling wet sex.

"Andrea," Miranda whispered, hot breath against her ear, "come for me. I'm here, I've got you."

Several minutes later, Andrea leaned over and kissed Miranda gently on the lips. "I would have never dreamed that an embrace could be so intimate, so satisfying," she said.

"I wish I could stay here and explore your body forever, but the girls are at home by themselves," she said.

"I know," she said, pulling herself up on the bed. "If they're still interested, I can swing by tonight and we can walk to the park together."

"I'm sure that will be fine. Would you mind if I stayed home? I really need to spend some time reviewing the DVF spread—I'm afraid we will have to reshoot because honestly, most of the photos cannot be used," she said.

"Of course, as I said, I was looking forward to spending time with the girls."

"Thank you," Miranda said, "you are so good to them. At some point, I do want to continue our conversation concerning your parents, okay?"

"Maybe I should just tell them to call you," Andrea said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Yes, please do," Miranda said, following Andrea out of the bedroom.

"No! I was kidding. I—I need to talk to them eventually," she said.

"And we'll talk about that later," Miranda said, wrapping her arms around the woman. "I'll see you later tonight—would you like me to prepare dinner or do you think you'd like to take the girls for something quick?"

"I'll be over about an hour early, so the girls and I can grab something to eat before the movie. Is that okay?"

"Perfect," Miranda said. "See you later, darling."

"Bye, thank you for coming by," Andrea said, leaning on the door as Miranda headed down the hallway. Shutting the door, she crawled back into her bed, burying her face in the pillow where Miranda had just been laying.

Later that evening, Andrea was on the subway, heading to Miranda's, when her phone rang. Without thinking, she answered, cursing herself as she heard her mom's voice on the other end. "Hi, Mom, I'm on the subway right now so it's not a good connection," she said.

"Oh, honey, I can hear you just fine. Are you going out with your friends tonight?"

"Yeah," Andrea said, "We're going to see a movie in Central Park."

"Ohh, that's wonderful. Maybe you can meet a nice young man. But listen, the reason I was calling—your father and I were just watching Nightline and there is this story about these young football players from Steubenville—have you heard about this in New York?"

"Uh, I think I saw it in the headlines, but I didn't look into it. Is it someone we know?" Andrea asked, somewhat disinterested, but thankful her mother was talking about something other than how disappointed she was in her daughter.

"No, but Aunt Judy still teaches History there, and knew these kids. Two promising football players were just sentenced to time in jail for sexually assaulting a young girl at a party after their game. Everyone was drinking, and this young girl had passed out, and everyone was taking videos and posting them online—that's how the boys were caught."

"Oh my god, that's awful," Andrea said, her journalistic nature suddenly kicking in. "Was the girl okay? Did they rape her?"

"Yes, she's okay, but staying out of the news and not doing interviews. They didn't rape her, but they took turns sticking their fingers inside her—isn't that just disgusting? And here in Ohio, that counts as sexual assault. Honestly, I don't know where the girls' parents were, letting her go to a party like that."

Andrea's jaw dropped as she listened to her mother go on. "Mom? You're fading. I can't hear you—I'll talk to you later, love you," she said, promptly hanging up the phone.

It was strange, how much she had grown in the past two years. She was so different from her parents, had different values and views of the world, but it wasn't until situations like this where she actually understood just how differing their opinions were. And the tone of her mother's voice when she said what the boys did was "disgusting" made it clear that it wasn't the situation, but the act itself of which her mother did not approve. Was she never fingered? Andrea wondered, quickly clearing her mind before she had any other thoughts of her mother's sex life.

She pulled her phone back out and quickly dialed Miranda's number.


"Hey, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Yes, of course. I thought you were on your way here."

"I am, but I can't say this in front of the girls. Miranda, I want your fingers inside of me so badly right now, it's taking all of my self control to keep from relieving myself here on the Q."

"Oh, darling, don't do that!" Miranda said, "You realize there are pedophiles and disgusting men who ride the subway, right? What brought this on?"

"I talked to my mom."

"Oh really? I think you'll need to explain the connection here."

"She was telling me about this incident near my hometown, where some kids were convicted of sexual assault for fingering a drunk girl," Andrea said, "and then she told me how disgusting she thought it was to have their fingers there."

"And that naturally led you to think of me fingering you, or sexually assaulting you if we're in Ohio?" Miranda asked.


"Well, hurry here, and be quiet when you come in. I'll be waiting for you in the downstairs bathroom."

"Okay, see you soon," she said, hanging up.

Six minutes later, Andrea was letting herself into the townhouse, tiptoeing as she made a beeline to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Miranda was on her knees, waiting for Andrea to arrive. Andrea quickly unbuttoned her jeans and Miranda slid them, along with her underwear, down her legs. "Sit," Miranda said, pushing the young girl back gently onto the small decorative bench against the wall.

As soon as Andrea sat, Miranda pushed her legs as far apart as they would go with her jeans around her ankles and leaned forward, moaning as she pressed her lips to the young woman's slick folds. "Mmm," she hummed, "So wet…for me…mmmm." Releasing her folds from her lips, Miranda quickly thrust two fingers inside her pulsating core. "Darling, is this what you wanted?" Miranda asked, looking up at Andrea, her lips and chin shimmering with come. Andrea knew she needed to be silent, so she simply nodded as Miranda continued. "You wanted me to fuck you with my fingers? Mmm, darling, I only wish I could make you scream right now," she said, lowering her lips once again to take in her tiny bud.

Andrea reached down and held Miranda's head in place while she felt her muscles contracting around Miranda's fingers. Slowly, Miranda pulled her fingers away, licking them and savoring Andrea's taste. Miranda stood, washed her hands, then pulled a washcloth from the cabinet and ran it under warm water before wiping her face. She wrang it out, then squatted in front of Andrea again, gently wiping any residue of her fluids from her body. With a dry cloth, she dabbed at any excess moisture.

"I'm glad your mother called you," Miranda said, the corner of her lips turning upward.

Andrea rolled her eyes and stood, pulling her underwear and jeans up with her. "Thank you," she said, leaning in and kissing her silver-haired lover.

"Andrea, you do not need to thank me, it was truly my pleasure."

"Well, thank you for cleaning up…I…it was unexpected."

"Of course," Miranda said. "I'm going to slip out and go find the girls, okay?" Andrea nodded, and Miranda opened the door.

"See! I told you they were in there!" Cassidy shouted.

Miranda immediately retreated into the bathroom, leaning up against the closed door. "Oh god, now what?" she said.

"Hey, the girls aren't stupid. They saw us last night, and at least we tried to get some privacy this time, right?" Andrea said, taking Miranda's hands and slowly pulling her away from the door. Andrea opened the door, holding tightly onto Miranda's hand, knowing her instinct would send her flying upstairs without an explanation.

"Mom, Andy? What's wrong?" Caroline said.

"Nothing, sweetie. I guess we just didn't realize we had an audience again," Andrea said.

"Oh, that. Sorry," Cassidy said. "I was watching out the window upstairs and saw you come in, but when I came downstairs, I just heard whispering in the bathroom."

"At least we didn't have to see anything this time!" Caroline teased.

"Girls," Andrea said, "I don't think your mother appreciates being teased." Miranda blushed and Andrea leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. "Are you two ready to go?"

"Yep!" "Yeah!" they replied.

"Bye, Mom," Cassidy said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around her mother. Caroline followed, and Miranda kissed each of her daughters on the head before they headed towards the front door.

"Andrea, do not let them out of your sight," Miranda said. "And if you see anyone suspicious or—"

"Cut it out, Mom," Caroline said. "We'll be fine."

"I promise you that the three of us will return safely," Andrea added. "I'll even text you when we're getting food, when we find a spot, and then when we're on our way home, okay?"

Miranda nodded and Andrea smiled. "I love you," she mouthed silently as the girls dragged her towards the front door.

"You too," Miranda mouthed in reply before the three people she cared most about in the entire world strolled out the front door.

Around 10:30pm, Andrea and the girls returned to the townhouse. Andrea had been texting Miranda all evening, which had a calming effect on her and allowed her to focus on the DVF photos.

"Okay, Bobbseys, make sure you thank Andrea, then get upstairs to bed. Your father wants to take you to dinner tomorrow night since he got home a little earlier than he thought," Miranda said.

The girls nodded, kissed Miranda, then trudged upstairs to bed. "Did you have a good time?" Miranda asked, leading Andrea into the kitchen.

"Yes, and here," she said, handing Miranda a milkshake, "we got this for you on the way home."

"Did all of you have ice cream?"

"No, we really went there to get one for you, but we each tasted a few flavors. I tried a Guinness-beer flavored one, and cherry-bleu-cheese. The Guinness was gross, but the other one tasted like cheesecake. Yours is a lavender mint shake made with skim milk," she said. "I, uh, figured you didn't eat dinner."

Miranda smiled at her thoughtfulness, "No, you're right. I was so caught up in work again. Thank you."

"So the girls are going to be with James tomorrow evening?" Andrea asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Yes. To whatever you're thinking," Miranda said with a grin as she enjoyed her milkshake.

Andrea laughed, "What time should I come over?"

"How about 5:35?" she asked.

"I'll be here."

"Thank you again, Andrea, for spending time with the girls tonight. I think you can see how they adore you, and I'm just so grateful that—that you—" Andrea pressed her finger to Miranda's lips, interrupting her words.

"I get it. And you're welcome. But please know that I do genuinely enjoy spending some time with them. I don't have nieces or nephews or kids, so I love having the opportunity to be a part of their lives. And if things ever turn sour between us, I'll still be there for them if they'll have me," Andrea said.

Miranda frowned at the last part, only to be met with a shrug of the shoulders. Miranda sighed, "I am just glad that they approve of you," she said. "Would you like to stay over tonight?"

"I'll head back to my place…and before you ask…yes, I will text you as soon as I get home," Andrea said. Miranda nodded, and Andrea slipped out the door before she could protest.

Are you home yet? Miranda texted Andrea.

Cab is just pulling up, she replied.

I meant to give you money for what you spent on the girls tonight.

Seriously? It was nothing. You can buy me lunch sometime and we'll call it even.

Okay. Will you call me once you're in and settled?

Yes, is something wrong? Andrea quickly replied.

No, just miss hearing your voice… xo

Andrea smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket as she paid the cab driver and let herself into her apartment. She quickly brushed her teeth and removed her makeup, then stripped down to her tank top and undies before crawling into bed and pulling her phone out.

"Hi," she said when Miranda picked up.

"Hi," Miranda said. "You know, it's kind of surreal."

"What is?"

"This. Us. It's just been so long since I've had a friend," she said, "someone I can talk to about anything—someone who actually cares about what's going on in my life….When I'm not with you, I just get that loneliness all over again."

"I think we're all lonely sometimes, no matter how many friends one has. But Miranda, that's what phones and text messaging and email is for," Andrea said.

"But I can't seriously pick up the phone every time something comes into my mind that I want to share with you!" Miranda said.

"Yes, you can, and I would love to get those calls or messages."

"Really?" she asked. "That wouldn't get annoying? Because I was thinking, maybe if I started a list, then whenever we saw each other next, I would have an agenda for discussion."

"Do not start making agendas for our dates, Miranda," Andrea said. "I know you don't really separate work from your personal life, and that's fine, but know that I'm always here and there's nothing I would rather do than chat with you. Well, almost nothing," she said.

"Okay," Miranda said. "No lists, no agendas, got it. So, can I tell you what made me want to talk to you tonight?"


"After you left, I brought my milkshake upstairs and decided to take a bath. So, here I was, drinking a lavender mint shake, which was really good by the way, and sitting in a bathtub of lavender mint bubble bath!"

Andrea laughed. "Oh my god, I didn't even realize that. Did it make you want to taste the bubbles?"

"No, no no. But I was thinking about the mint part. The bubble bath definitely has more of a pepperminty scent, while the milkshake tasted of fresh mint leaves."

"So would you recommend surrounding oneself entirely—inside and out—with one flavor?" Andrea asked, amused that Miranda felt the need to tell her this.

"No, absolutely not. For one, it made the bath far less relaxing because I was thinking too much about the particular notes of mint they used. But then, as I was finishing the milkshake, I was starting to imagine a soapy, lauryl sulfate-ish taste, so the combination kind of ruined them both," she said.

Andrea began laughing, much to Miranda's dismay. "Why are you laughing?" she asked. "This is annoying, isn't it? You're not interested in mint."

"No, no, that's not it," Andrea said, trying to catch her breath. "I am very interested in mint, and I love the way your mind works, Miranda. You are so adorable, and I hope you call me more often with observations like this."

"Andrea, I am not 'adorable,'" she protested.

"Oh, but you are," she said.

"Puppies and babies are adorable, darling, not fifty-something-year-old women."

"I would prefer fifty-something-year-old women to puppies any day. But you do make an interesting comparison…I think all three are equally needy…" Andrea said.

"Hmph," she huffed. "I still don't appreciate being teased, Andrea," she said.

"Okay, okay, I take it back."

"Not to change the subject, but I emailed John tonight and he is very eager to meet you. He said he'll reach out to you tomorrow, and you can start orientation as early as Wednesday."

"What? As in, four days from now Wednesday?" Andrea asked.

"Yes. I know it's soon, but the previous employee up and quit, so he is quite desperate for someone to step in."

"But Miranda, that's—and there's Runway—"

"Yes, about that. I also called Joann in human resources at Elias-Clarke and explained our circumstances. She agreed that any relationship needed to be disclosed ASAP, and since the board hasn't asked for any updates in the past few months, she is willing to backdate the form a few weeks—to the time I brought you to Alix. I can trust her—she probably hates Irv more than I do. I don't think there will be any questions, but just in case, I don't want it having repercussions on your career."

"You disclosed our relationship without telling me first?" Andrea asked, still trying to wrap her brain around that.

"Well, yes. Darling, we talked today about you leaving the magazine. I thought you would appreciate this. Now there's no way for Irv to fire you—or me for that matter."

"But Miranda, eventually someone will see that, and you know it will be made public."

"Yes, and we'll deal with it if it happens," Miranda said.

"But what if they realize the only reason I got the job at The Mirror is because I was sleeping with you?"

"Darling, John will still interview you and review your portfolio. Don't think for one minute that you don't deserve this position."

"I just wish you would have told me," Andrea said.

"It was on my list," Miranda said quietly, "my list of things to tell you next time we spoke. I'm sorry, sweetheart, I was honestly trying to help."

"It's okay," Andrea said, sighing. "Thank you. Now, I should really get some sleep," she said. "I know you're going to think I'm saying that because of what you just said, but that's not it. I'm just getting tired."

"Okay, that's fine," Miranda said. "Sleep well."

"Thanks, you too. I love you. Call or text me if anything comes up during the night, okay?"

"Okay," Miranda said. "You do the same, darling. I love you, too."



Laying in bed, Andrea felt bad for the way she reacted on the phone, but it was just so many changes at once. She quickly sent a text message to Miranda before setting her phone on the nightstand and turning out the light: Thank you for talking to HR. Sorry I overreacted. You obviously know what you're doing more than I do with this, and I trust you completely. Let me know if I need to write a resignation letter or if we'll just act like I've been secretly applying for other jobs. …I know we just hung up, but I miss you already. xox

As Miranda was turning out the light, Andrea's text came through, bringing a smile to her face.

Sunday morning flew by, and before she knew it, James would be coming to pick up the girls. Miranda had been texting Andrea all day, slowly becoming more accustomed to her constant presence.

As soon as the girls left, Miranda opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. She had some things in mind for their evening, but wanted to talk to Andrea first and make sure nothing had been left unsaid from last night.

Promptly at 5:35, Andrea let herself in, meeting Miranda in the den. "Sweetheart, I just poured your wine," Miranda said. "Come, sit. I just want to chat for a few minutes."

Andrea set her bag down, kicked off her heels and curled up next to Miranda on the sofa, wine glass in her hand. "What's on your mind, beautiful?" Andrea asked.

Miranda blushed at the compliment. "Andrea, I want to tell you just how grateful I am for you. You respect me, and not just the way all my staff does, but you respect me as a human being and as a woman. You are dependable and protective of me and my family, and I know that I can lean on you if I need to. Honestly, I've never felt this way with anyone else. You're so utterly trust-worthy, sometimes I need to pinch myself as a reminder that you're real."

Andrea felt her eyes welling with tears. "Miranda, when I say I love you, I mean it. Anything you need, or your girls need, I'm here."

"Thank you," she said. "So, something you said yesterday at your apartment gave me an idea and I was hoping you would permit me to try it," she said.

"May I take you upstairs, Andrea?" Miranda asked.

"Ooh!" Andrea said, realizing Miranda wanted to step into their roles. "Yes, my Pet," she said as she set her wine glass down. "That would please me very much."

Miranda smiled as she took Andrea's hand and led her upstairs. "Andrea, I am here to please you tonight," she said, shutting and locking the bedroom door. "May I take off your clothes?" Andrea nodded and Miranda slowly began undressing the brunette. Once undressed, she guided Andrea to lay on her back in the middle of the bed. Miranda slipped her cotton/jersey casual dress over her head, revealing a leather corset that just barely covered her nipples, plus a garter belt holding up her thigh-high tights.

"Andrea, do you trust me?" she asked, reaching for something on the dresser.

"Yes, Pet, I trust you with anything. I need you, Pet," she said.

Miranda quickly made her way to the bed, securing each of Andrea's limbs to a bedpost with specially-designed cuffs. She placed a black silk blindfold over Andrea's eyes, and took a small pair of earmuffs to place over her ears. "I am here for your pleasure, and yours alone, Andrea," she whispered before moving the muff into place.

Andrea was writhing and moaning on the bed, as she smelled Miranda move closer, Miranda's own unique scent mixed with a mild leather smell.

Miranda slowly began tracing her hands along Andrea's body, covering every inch from the top of her head to the tip of her toes except for her nipples and her folds. She soon began adding light kisses, gently sucking on sensitive areas such as the inside of her ankle, her hip, her inner thigh, and her earlobe. Miranda dipped her finger inside her own wetness, quickly bringing the fluid to Andrea's lips, tracing her finger around her mouth as if she were applying lip balm. While Andrea busied herself trying to lick it off, Miranda retrieved a long ostrich feather from the dresser and gently began tracing it across the woman's body. Andrea began moaning loudly, thrusting her hips upward in the air, reaching for any sort of contact. Miranda began stroking the feather up Andrea's body from her core to her chin repeatedly as she watched the brunette's reaction. Seeing that Andrea was so close to the edge, she leaned in and puckered her lips, blowing gently on Andrea's wet, throbbing folds as she traced the feather upwards once more.

Andrea gasped, her back arching off the bed as she drew in deep breaths. Miranda untied the cuffs from the bedposts while Andrea's breathing returned to normal, and she leaned over, pulling the earmuffs off. "Did that please you, Andrea?"

"God, yes, my Pet. I—I need to touch you," she said.

"You may," Miranda replied, crawling next to her and laying on the bed. Once she realized her hands and feet were no longer restrained, she pulled the blindfold off and pounced on Miranda.

"Pet, you are mine," she said, laying next to Miranda and latching onto her nipple. "I want to hear you crying my name," she said.

"Ooh, Andrea," Miranda moaned, "You suck me so good," she squealed as Andrea bit down and began sucking harder, sending waves of pain through her body. "Ohhh gooddddd, Andddreeeaaaa!" she howled.

Hours later, they were both fully sated, curled in each other's arms.

"I talked to John today," Andrea said. "He seemed to like my portfolio, and said he would send me an official offer letter this evening," she said.

"Andrea, that's wonderful!" Miranda said. "I'm so proud of you."

"And since I will no longer be at Runway," she said, "I took the liberty of scheduling a two-hour meeting with Alice on your calendar every Wednesday."

"But then I'll surely have to stay later those nights," Miranda said.

"Yes, well, the girls also have soccer practice Wednesday evenings, so they won't be home," Andrea said. "We can always see how it works out for a while. Maybe we won't even need that," she added.

"You mean, maybe we can just have Roy drive us around while you fuck me stupid?" Miranda asked, chuckling.

Andrea laughed. "What I meant was that maybe we'll find a good balance between the girls, the townhouse, my apartment, and we won't need to go to Alix," she said.

"Oh, yeah. I guess," Miranda said. Just then they heard three doors slamming out on the street. "The girls—what time is it?" Miranda asked, frantically jumping up and throwing her dress back over her head.

Andrea followed suit, quickly dressing and throwing her hair into a messy bun. "Hey, wait," she called as Miranda unlocked the bedroom door. Miranda paused, and Andrea quickly ran her fingers through her silvery hair a few times, smoothing it out and trying to combat the 'just-got-fucked' look. "There. Gorgeous," she said. Miranda nodded, blushing, and opened the bedroom door, heading downstairs, grabbing their wineglasses just as the girls were coming into the house.

"Darlings, how was dinner?" Miranda asked calmly.

"Good. Dad didn't really have much to say, but he mentioned maybe taking us to a Yankees game this weekend if it was okay with you," Cassidy said.

"Oh, I don't see why not, that sounds like fun," Miranda said.

"What's wrong with you two?" Caroline asked. "Did you guys have a fight?"

"No, why would you ask that?" Miranda said.

"Well, you guys are like on opposite sides of the room, and Andy has a mark on her neck."

"No, we're fine," Andy said, reassuringly, moving closer to Miranda and wrapping her arm around her waist. "I burnt myself straightening my hair this morning, and then the ointment that I put on it made it worse, I think."

"Yes, so that's one of the reasons I don't want you girls messing with curling irons or straighteners—you can hurt yourself, even if you're careful," Miranda said.

"Okay, Mom." Caroline said.

"Well, I need to go finish my homework. Goodnight, Mom. Bye Andy!" Cassidy said.

"Goodnight, girls," Miranda and Andrea said in unison, turning to each other, then laughing hysterically as they returned to the den, curling up on the couch with their wine glasses.

Caroline and Cassidy began walking upstairs, whispering quietly once out of earshot. "See? They are totally acting strange," Caroline said.

"Yeah, but I'd say they spent the evening making out, not fighting."

"You think that was a hickey?"

"Yes, definitely. Didn't you notice how Mom blushed when you asked?"

"No, I missed that. I know Mom wants to be closer to us and everything, but maybe we should have the talk with her."

"You mean, like tell her we love her and love Andy but don't want to hear about it or see it?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Oh, and we should make sure Mom tells Andy that Patricia is our dog."


"Didn't you hear her saying something about her pet the other day?"

"Ohh yeah. She can't have Mom and Patricia. We're definitely talking to her tomorrow."