Hey guys! Last week I was listening to Panic at the Disco's The Ballad of Mona Lisa (actually I listened to it a million times) and this is the result. Thanks to Hannah again, she is my right hand here. Hope you like it!
Summary: Miranda goes to a night club and finds a beautiful lady and... things happens...
The night club was already full tonight; a Friday night, it's nearly 9:00 p.m. no surprises there. Most of the clientele is male, of course, but most of them just come to talk to someone, or see the girls dance and get drunk. The first part of the club is a bar, which is really full today; in the left corner there are tables, most of them already taken. There is a stage, where the girls are dancing; nothing explicit nor pole dance, but slow and sensual movements. And so there are men or women who come here just as somewhere to have sex. The second floor is for them, if the girl accepts the offer. But everyone who comes here, especially on Friday's nights, just want to forget who they are.
A silver haired woman enters in the club. She's been coming to the club for years, but this is the first time she's come on a Friday night. She is already bored, she knows most of the girls, but slept with none of them. She takes her table, always reserved with antecedence. The waiter approaches, she asks for a whisky. He leaves; the lights on the stage change. She relaxes a little, glances at the stage. She's hoping it's something new.
Her prayers are answered.
A girl appears. She is tall, brunette, her long brown hair falling over her bare shoulders. She is wearing a black corset, with red lace. Her cleavage, leaving little for the imagination. She is also has on a red garter, black socks, five inch black heels with red soles. Her lips are full, a tiny smile forms. She is using a mask, but her big brown eyes are very exposed, not you can see into her, just these big, bright eyes. She moves slowly, the sound of her heels echoing through the club.
The waiter clears his throat. The silver haired woman peels her eyes away and takes her drink. She waves and the waiter leaves again. Her eyes are locked with those big brown eyes.
The girl stops when she reaches the corner of the stage. Another light is switched on, revealing a guy. His hair is combed backwards, his face is shaved smooth. He's wearing black slacks with suspenders, a white sleeveless shirt; his muscles are well defined through the shirt. His hands are in his pants pockets. He looks at the girl and she smiles. A song begins. The rhythm of a waltz, but at the speed they were going, it looked more like a tango.
The boy approaches the girl. She pretends to disdain. He holds her waist, leans his head on her shoulders. She continues in the same posture: back straight, chin up, smiling. He hugs her, his arms around her waist. She closes her eyes and leans on him. In one swift motion, he turns her and they are facing each other.
The woman sitting is watching them avidly, but obviously her concentration is on the younger woman and the sensual movements of her legs, thighs and hips. She moves effortlessly from simple movements to more complex. She did not stop smiling for a minute, as the boy seems to suffer; his steady hands sliding down her body, enjoying every second, every inch, as if it were the last.
The woman feels her body reacting every time he looks into the girl's eyes, every time the girl's leg rubs the boy's leg. She is fascinated by the girl and is sure that she has not seen the girl before. She'd never had any desires to sleep with a girl from the bar, she never asked any of the girls to accompany her to the second floor, on the contrary, many girls offered themselves to her. But the brunette onstage piqued her interest and other things that she forgot still existed.
The dance ends, her head throbs, but not in a bad way. She wants, no, needs to talk to the girl. She calls the waiter again and asks for a pen and paper. He offers her a post it and she writes something on it and asks him to deliver the note the girl. He nods and leaves the table.
Suddenly, the woman feels very anxious.
"I, Miranda Priestly, fifty years old, mother of two girls, am nervous because I sent a note to a girl who is probably half my age."
Screw it.
In the dressing room, the brunette removes the mask and cleans her face. Soon she returns to the track, maybe today she will get lucky and someone female who wants to have a drink with her. She smiles at the memory of the white-haired woman who was devouring her with her eyes. The girl wears a skirt, holding her hair to redo her makeup then putting her hair into a messy bun, with a few strands falling on her shoulders. She looks again in the mirror and smiles.
"Andrea Sachs, you look beautiful! I pity the poor people who are now in the hall."
Andrea turns and looks at his hand. "Hey Doug! Great show today. "
"Look, if I was not gay, I would've pulled your corset off on stage anyway." Both of them laugh.
"No, you would not have done that."
"Look, do not break too many hearts tonight, please."
Andrea laughed. Her stage name is "The Hearts' Destroyer Masquerade". Few have had the chance to see her face. Most were women. Andrea is unique, nobody disagrees with it. She only goes up to the second floor if she wants; although her profession is not the most beautiful of all, she is respected. Remembering this, she decides that today she is the huntress. And she already has a target in mind. A very beautiful and exquisite lady with white hair.
What she wasn't expecting was that she was also a target.
The waiter returns to Miranda's table. He apologizes and says that the girl had left the dressing room when he got there. Miranda gets angry and orders him to leave.
From a distance, Andrea is watching. The woman's glass is empty. She goes to the bar, orders a bottle of gin and heads the woman's table.
"Mind if I sit here?" Andrea asks.
Even angry, Miranda decides to look up. Surprised, she just nods and walks away, making room for Andrea sits beside her. Unfortunately, the girl is still using the same mask. "You're the girl that was dancing." It was not a question.
"Yes, and you are the woman who was watching me." Andrea says and smiles, sipping from her glass. Miranda blushes.
"Yes. You're beautiful."
"You too." Andrea gets close. "Do you mind if I ask your name, beautiful lady?"
"Miranda. Miranda Priestly." She sips from her glass. "Yours?"
"Andrea."
"Andrea." Miranda says, but her accent is different.
"Nobody had ever said my name that way. I like it." She leans in more closely. "So, what do you want to do?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, I have so many things in mind. I can tell you, if you come with me."
Andrea leads the way to the second floor. She opens the door and turns the lights on. She sits on the bed. Miranda closes the door and stops in the front of Andrea.
"Take your clothes off," Andrea says.
Miranda smiles, she is glad that Andrea has taken control. She can be vicious, bossy, cold on the outside, but in bed, she just likes the fact that this girl will do things to her she never allowed her husbands to do.
She takes her black skirt off, she is wearing a garter too, but the lace is fully red. Slowly, she opens the buttons of her blue blouse. The clasp of her bra is on the front and it is strapless; she opens it and it falls in the floor.
The girl stands up, already without her skirt, and kisses the other woman. Her hands are running over the older woman's body. Her mouth leaves Miranda's mouth and goes to her earlobe, neck, jaw, throat until she reaches her breasts and takes a nipple between her teeth. Miranda moans in pain, but in pleasure too, and it's exactly what she wants.
But Miranda doesn't like to take turns; first you make me come than I make you come. No. She likes it when both come together, so she reaches for the lace of Andrea's corset and unties it. She feels the girl smiling against her breast.
"You want me naked too."
Miranda just nodded.
"I would love it." Andrea smirks.
She takes her corset off and then massages her breasts. Miranda licks her lips and goes for it. She licks every single bit of skin on the girl's breasts. Andrea moans out loud, she can't control her body. Miranda is getting wetter just seeing Andrea squirming.
"Oh Miranda, please! I- I need-"
"Say what you need."
"I- I need you- your fingers- oh!"
Miranda spreads her legs and Andrea fits between them. But before Miranda lets her hand goe down, Andrea is already caressing her slit, spreading her fluids. Miranda mirrors Andrea's movements and moments later they are panting and almost sobbing by pleasure.
"Oh God, Miranda! I need to feel you!"
Without any indication, Andrea is penetrating Miranda with her middle finger. Miranda moans and her fingers go to Andrea's clit. She almost fell, but the older woman holds her in the place with the other hand.
The brown hair is falling over Miranda's face and she can't help but smell it. It's wonderful.
"More, more!" She pants.
Andrea seems to understand her, because she plugs one more finger, then another. Three fingers. She'd never felt so full. And she wants Andrea to feel the same. So Miranda slides her fingers and plugs two fingers inside Andrea.
"Oh yes!" Andrea hissed.
They trust their hips against each other, kissing what their mouths can reach. Panting, moaning, whimpering. Together.
"Oh! I'm so close."
"Yes, yes!"
So they come. Out loud. Together.
But Andrea continues fingering Miranda and she comes again. Two orgasms in a row. And then Andrea begins to goes down, kissing her breasts (again), her ribcage, her hips, her groin, her-
"Andrea-"
"I want to taste you."
She finally removes her mask. Miranda catches her breath.
"You are so beautiful."
"Thank you. So… May I?"
So be it.
And Andrea tastes her, savoring it, because minutes later Miranda is squirming and having a mind-blowing orgasm.
"Oh!"
Miranda closes her eyes. Andrea lies beside her, giving pecks on her shoulder. "You are absolute amazing, Miranda."
"Thanks, I guess." They laugh.
They stay in bed a little longer; recovering. Later, Miranda is the first to stand up and get dressed. She fixes her hair and smiles when she sees Andrea smiling at her.
"We can do it again, if you'd like."
"Yes, of course. But not tonight."
"Yeah."
"Three times. I can't believe it." Miranda says and blushes.
"Lucky me."
Andrea stands up and puts on her robe. Miranda leaves the money on the bed. "So, I think you deserve a bonus…"
"Thank you very much." Andrea says and opens the door. "It was a pleasure, really."
"Indeed."
Miranda leaves. We will do it again. As soon as I can. It will be money well spent.
Andrea lies again in the bed and counts the money.
Well, money earned with much pleasure. And I don't mind at all if I earn some more.
She grins and kisses the money.
There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for…
Fin