The trip through the lobby was mostly a blur to Andy. Between nerves, alcohol, and acute arousal, her brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. She did note the disconnect between the elegant, regal woman, and the mildly dingy interior. The older woman looked as out of place here as she did earlier at the bar.

As they waited for the lift, the older woman turned and said, "Under no circumstance can you be here in the morning. Walk, jog, call a cab, steal a bike—I don't care, you cannot be here overnight."

"I get it. I'll be sure to be gone before dawn." The silver haired woman nodded once in approval.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, the older woman pounced, pushing Andy up against the back wall. After she slipped her right leg between the brunette's, she leaned in close, pressing their bodies flush against one another. Subconsciously the younger woman started rocking her hips against her leg.

God I could come like this. Andy clumsily thought.

With one hand, Miranda grabbed a fistful of the brunette's hair, yanking her head to the side and exposing the smooth expanse of creamy skin. She inhaled deeply through her nose while tracing the tip of her tongue up the pulsing vein to her jawline, which she gave a quick nip. The younger woman moaned and her hands fell to the older woman's hips.

"No, don't." Miranda snapped as she slapped away her hands.

"Don't what?" She shook her head in confusion.

"Touch. It isn't your turn." She pulled back and caressed the side of the brunette's face before cupping her chin and curling her index finger over the girl's full lips and into her mouth. The younger woman's tongue swirled around the tip, and they locked eyes in understanding-the silver haired woman was in control.

"You want me." Miranda leaned in and husked into the shell of her ear. Andy nodded emphatically, chest heaving and heat radiating out from her center.

At that moment, the elevator jolted to a stop and the doors opened. The older woman stepped away from the girl and calmly walked out of the lift. Startled at the abrupt change of pace, Andy stumbled to follow.

The apartment was a relic from Miranda's past, or rather Miriam Princhek's past. After ending the relationship with Laura, she'd gotten rid of almost every trace of her and their shared history, including her own name, but not the apartment. Not the last place she was truly happy.


Over the years she'd upgraded and redecorated, but it was still a relatively small, one-bedroom, rent-stabilized apartment, a far cry from the opulence of her current residence. To avoid any scrutiny, she left the apartment's lease in Miriam Princhek's name. Any mail that came, all junk by this point, was picked up and thrown out by a neighbor, Mrs. Steinberg, who had lived in the building longer than Miranda had been a renter. All she required was a small monthly stipend for her trouble and discretion. It helped that Mrs. Steinberg seemed to have no clue who Miranda was or what she actually did. She dreaded running into her because she insisted on calling her Miriam. It was an unwanted reminder of who she used to be.

She didn't often allow herself to dwell on what was or what could have been, but after nights where she lost herself with another anonymous woman, her mind couldn't ignore the pull. If she moved in just the right way, or closed her eyes halfway, or got just drunk enough, she could pretend she was with Laura in their shared bed. That she was living the life she didn't choose. She'd remember how happy they'd been. How easy it had all been. How Laura had looked at her full of love when they woke up late in each others' arms on lazy Sunday mornings. How Laura looked when Miranda made love to her, when she fucked her, the way she laughed after coming. How Laura had truly taken care of her, likely the only person that ever would. How she had looked when Miranda ripped her heart out. How Laura had begged and pleaded and reasoned. How she had cleverly coordinated running into Laura for the last time, hand-in-hand with her new boyfriend, a man she would marry quickly and who would stand by her side until he too became a casualty of her career. She remembered the devastation. She enumerated the necessary steps she took to cultivate her dragon persona.

She was forever stuck in a loop of temporary pleasure reinforcing permanent pain. She would give into her desire for the female form, and when the afterglow of the evening faded, she'd plummet back into her self-made misery. Miranda was always at her worst on the days after she'd spent the night remembering.


The older woman flipped on some lights and flung her bag and coat across a chair. The decor was much nicer than the common spaces they'd walked through. She slinked up to the brunette and used her two index fingers to peel off her coat, letting it drop to the floor in a heap. She then walked to a bar and pulled out two glasses, filling them with something Andy undoubtedly did not need.

Back to this place once again, Mira? How many times can you do this to yourself?

"Here." Miranda shoved a drink under Andy's nose, avoiding eye contact. "Your liquid courage." A weight settled between them that Andy couldn't quite figure out. The graceful, self-assured movements of the older woman earlier in the evening became stiff and almost robotic. The heated sensual energy that had radiated from her was replaced by a palpable frigid tension.

Suddenly insecure about whether or not the older woman actually wanted her there, Andy muttered, "Should I go?"

"Why on earth would you do that? Do you want to go?" The older woman's eyes narrowed. Have I wasted my time?

"N-no. I just…" Andy stuttered and cast her eyes to the floor, thrown off guard by the scathing tone in the older woman's voice. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, "I just don't get the impression you want me here very much."

The silver haired woman placed her drink down and turned to regard the young brunette. Something in her eyes softened, just for a second before the hardened mask settled back into place.

"You wouldn't be here if I didn't want you here." Her tone was much more tender. Miranda placed a hand on the small of her back and stepped around her heading to the bedroom.

"Come along."


The bedroom, while much larger than Andy's current one, was dwarfed by the luxurious king-sized bed. The remaining space was used efficiently, with several nice pieces of furniture. Large windows on two walls allowed enough streetlight in for them to forgo any other lighting. The linens were whites, greys, and creams, which gave the room a feeling of tranquility. The older woman stood in front of a vanity removing her jewelry. Andy walked up behind her, unsure what to do with herself.

They locked eyes in the mirrored reflection. Something, neither quite sure what, went off like a shot and they both sprung into action. Miranda spun around and smashed their lips together, tongues tangling and battling for control. Unwilling to pull away from each other, their hands roamed over curves and around taut muscles, tugging at zippers and buttons and finally giving into ripping at fabric. They stumbled to the bed and the silver haired woman pushed the brunette onto her back and pulled up her own skirt to straddle her thighs, giving the younger woman a nice view of her already soaked silk undies.

"Everything off. Now," the silver haired woman panted as she ran her hands up the smooth skin of the brunette's torso.

Andy lifted her hips so the older woman could slide her dress and underwear down off her body while she unhooked her front clasping bra and released her full breasts. "Perfect." Miranda whispered, cupping the globes and giving the pert nipples a roll between her fingers. The doe-eyed woman moaned at the touch. When she moved to finish undressing the older woman, she was again met with resistance.

"Nah uh uh. Still not your turn. Scoot up the bed," she said, as she hopped up and headed towards a dresser across the room. Without hesitation, the young woman did as she was told, not caring at all about the trail of wetness she left in her wake. I never thought I'd be into being bossed around like this.

"Arms up." The silver haired woman had returned with a white silk scarf, and as Andy raised her arms above her head, she skillfully wrapped her wrists together and secured them to the headboard. "This will help you keep your hands to yourself," she smirked.

Slowly and seductively Miranda removed what remained of her clothing and dropped it at the foot of the bed. "Do you know how wet I am?" she drawled, sliding her hand between her own legs while her hooded eyes scanned up and down the brunette's naked body. "Do you know how long I've needed this?"

Needed what exactly? Another one night stand? A woman? To feel wanted? To be in control? To feel alive again? Miranda growled to herself before pushing those thoughts aside.

Crawling onto the bed and moving up the younger woman's body, she grazed her nipples lightly on her skin along the way. Her wetness dripped down onto the girl's leg as she raked her nails across the flawless canvas, goosebumps trailing her touch. The brunette hissed and thrusted her hips upwards, aching for contact.

"I'm going to make you feel quite magnificent," the older woman whispered, leaning down to nibble on the brunette's earlobe, "and then maybe you can make me feel the same." Andy whimpered into her nod as Miranda captured her bruised lips and worked her way down, with a series of kisses, bites, and licks, to her neck then chest.

"P-p-please…" the girl moaned, the tone frenzied.

"Please what?

"I need you."

"Me?"

"TO FUCK ME!" Andy shouted.

"I'm working on it." Miranda's mouth curled upwards before she devoured every bit of skin she could reach, her hands caressing the young woman's soft curves. Trailing her lips down the girl's stomach, she settled between her legs and spread them wide. The younger woman whimpered with desire. Miranda's fingers opened her wet center and her tongue plunged inside, lapping up the sweet nectar that was seeping out. Exploring every crevice and fold except the hardened nub that was begging for release, she hummed in pleasure at the almost forgotten headiness of a woman's taste. Her hand moved up the girl's body and found a puckered nipple, pinching and rolling it between her fingers as she writhed beneath her.

'Please. God. Please," the doe-eyed girl begged, "I need you inside right nowwwwww!" Her arms flexed against the silk scarf, desperate to aid in her pleasure. Not usually one to take orders, Miranda decided to relent this once as her own arousal was reaching an apex. She thrust a finger into the younger woman, whose hips matched her every move.

"More!" She demanded.

Miranda added a second digit then curled them upwards to hit the the brunette's sweet spot while her tongue circled the her clit. The younger woman was so close to coming, her muscles tightened around the thrusting fingers and her body began shaking in pleasure. Encouraged by the uptick in moaning and groaning, the silver haired woman added a third finger, which pushed the girl over the precipice into full on bliss. The brunette rode out her orgasm mostly in silence, her every muscle straining and pulsing.

When the aftershocks abated, the older woman gave her a final kiss on her clit, and crawled up next to the recovering woman. She stopped herself from reaching out and cuddling her—this wasn't that.

"Fuck, that was insane." the younger woman laughed, still out of breath. "Think you could untie me now?"

Without a word and without sitting up, Miranda untied the now ruined scarf.

"That was incredible. I think we really have chemistry, don't you?" She didn't wait for a reply. "I mean that's never happened with any boyfriend I've had. Like who knew sex could be so much fun?" She giggled, turning to regard the older woman whose face betrayed no emotion.

Miranda couldn't process what was happening. What is this post-orgasm chatter? Where'd the quiet, timid girl from earlier go? I swear one orgasm and she's morphed into Chatty Cathy.

" ...like when you did that thing with your tongue at the same time your hand came up and…"

"Shhhhh!" Miranda hissed. "I need you to stop talking."

The younger woman looked like a kicked puppy for a few seconds before she recovered.

"Ok then, Is it my turn yet?" She smiled and reached out to touch the silver haired woman's lips, dragging an index finger down her chin, sliding it down her neck and onto her chest feeling suddenly confident. She didn't wait for an answer before rolling the woman onto her back, and slowly lowering herself on top. The older woman's hands reflexively wrapped around the girl as she lightly peppered kisses all around her face and neck.

"Nope it's MY turn. Keep you hands here." Andy said playfully as she grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed.

"I guess the tables have turned then." Miranda smirked.

"Looks like it. If you're good I'll let you have another go later," the brunette quipped.

"So confident all of a sudden. Can't say I thought that would happen."

"Well the ice has been broken so to speak. Quite well I might add." She smiled with a wink. "Now hush and let me take care of you."

Take care of me? Miranda was transported to her life before—before Runway, before men, before kids, before self loathing. Images of a love lost flashed in her mind. Images of someone who truly loved her for her and not for her position or money or status.

"Oh my, you are quite wet." The older woman was snapped back to the present by the fingers caressing her slick folds.

Fake it 'til you make it, huh Sachs? Just act like you know what's what here.

Andy pulled her hand up to her mouth and cleaned off her soaked fingers. "Mmm you taste good. Want some?" She moved her hand back down to the wellspring then brought her fingers to the older woman's mouth. "Open up."

Miranda's eyes widened as the brunette presented her with two fingers that she dutifully licked clean. "God that's so incredibly hot. I'm ready for you again already." Leaving the fingertips in her mouth, the younger woman's other hand slowly circled the opening of Miranda's velvet entrance.

I can't believe I'm letting this girl top me.

The older woman was breathing hard and her chest flushed in anticipation as the young woman dipped a finger inside. "Is this what you want?" She groaned in response.

The brunette sat up between Miranda's parted legs, fingers filling and stretching her clenching center. She leaned in, capturing a pebbled nipple with her lips, swirling her tongue around it before sucking as much of the globe as she could into her mouth.

She made her way downwards toward the junction of the other woman's thighs, removing her fingers and hovering just above her sex, enjoying the smell of arousal emanating off the older woman. With the flat of her tongue, she licked the full length of her slit. "FUUUCK! Don't stop!" the silver haired woman pleaded. She arched her back and ran her hands through the girl's hair, pushing her head back toward her quivering heat. With this show of approval, Andy cut loose any hesitation she held. The older woman's movements set the pace as her tongue penetrated deep. Her hand made its way up to her core and she dragged her thumb across the bundle of nerves. With a scream, Miranda thrashed her head back and forth as she reached her peak. Andy slowed her rhythm as wave after wave crashed down over the woman.

Miranda hadn't come like that in years. Her body felt boneless and her mind blank. Only when the brunette removed her fingers did she bother opening her eyes. Both women were covered in sweat—hair was matted to foreheads—and the girl wore a self satisfied grin that even Miranda couldn't fault her for. The young woman got up and left the room without a word, returning with a large glass of water which she held out in offering.

"Here you go. You might need this."

When she made no move to take it, the girl brought it to her mouth and took a few large gulps. "Ahhhh. Well, just what I needed." She placed the glass on the nightstand and flopped down on the bed.

"I can guess you won't like this for some reason, but could you just indulge me for a few minutes?" The doe-eyed woman asked in a soft and sweet voice as she snuggled up to the older woman. Miranda was so shocked at the audacity that she was too paralyzed to react. The girl's face rested in the crook of her neck and her arm was thrown possessively over her body, almost as if this was something.

No this is all wrong. I need to ask her to leave. She cannot stay here. I cannot stay here. I need to get up. Get up Mira! Her mind was in overdrive, but she could not will herself to move. The brunette's breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, and the older woman found the tickle of her exhales lulling her to sleep.


Andy entered the liminal space between wakefulness sleep, only vaguely aware of movement in the bed next to her. As she drifted deeper to sleep, she dreamt of the silver haired stranger caressing her face, fingers gently tracing her features and brushing through her hair. She imagined the woman kissing her, though the kisses were not of the bruising variety from earlier in their tryst. These were soft and tender, alternated with whispers of love and pleasure. Andy's body reacted in kind, her sex flooding with the evidence. As their movements heated up, she realized she wasn't dreaming. The older woman was above her, eyes glazed and dark. She lowered her center to Andy's, grinding them together in a rhythmic dance. Hands grabbed at breasts and held hips as their wetness commingled.

"Look at me Laura." Miranda demanded, her eyes seeking out her companion's as she shifted her position to lay on top of the girl. Who the hell is Laura? Andy thought, but was quickly pulled back to the moment by fingers deftly probing between her legs. "Let's come together darling." The silver haired woman pleaded while guiding Andy's hand towards her own wet folds. They clung desperately to each other as they thrust in tandem, each reveling in the other's arousal. Andy's nails scratched at the older woman's arm as they both rapidly moved towards release. The older woman pressed her palm to the girl's clit, "Come for me now my love."

Andy didn't register the endearment as she dissolved into pleasure, blacking out from the intensity of the climax. The sight of her love writhing beneath her was enough to bring Miranda into her own shattering orgasm. "Laaaauuuuuraaaa!" she screamed as she pulsed and throbbed. She collapsed on top of her, unseeing who was truly beneath her. They drifted off into sleep completely sated, limbs entangled.

Andy rolled over and bumped into something, no someone . Shit where am I? Ugh god how much did I have to drink ? When her eyes adjusted and her mind cut through the fog, she saw the silver haired woman and smiled, remembering the night's activities. She caught a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand behind her lover—4:42. "... under no circumstances are you to be here in the morning…" she recalled. Damn I need to go.

Miranda awoke when the bed dipped beside her. What the hell is she still doing here? She didn't let on that she was awake in hopes that the girl would just leave. The hazy pieces of last night started to come back to her. Had she really called this girl Laura? They didn't look anything alike. She could hear the young woman collecting her clothing.

"Shit!" Andy hissed, stubbing her toe on the bedpost. She couldn't find her underwear. There was no way she was walking out of here without undies. I'm gonna have to steal a pair. After rummaging through the dresser as quietly as possible, the brunette found what she was looking for and began getting dressed. Knowing she would never see this woman again, and feeling a bit conflicted between sadness and relief, she decided to take a chance. She walked over to the older woman and looked down at her sleeping figure, making a point to memorize as much as she could about the stranger. She then bent down and brushed the forelock off her face and grazed her lips lightly on hers. "Thank you for a lovely evening. I hope you get your Laura again one day. Sleep well," she whispered. With that, she left.


As she closed the apartment door, she turned around and almost plowed into a very small old lady.

"Ahh, a friend of Miriam's? I haven't met any friends of her in decades! How do you do?"

"Uh, yes. Miriam, right. I'm fine, thanks." Andy said, avoiding eye contact while moving to step around her.

"Early start this morning I see. I'm an early riser myself. I'm so glad to see someone getting use of this apartment. I know Miriam comes by when she can, but it's nice to know the space isn't being wasted anymore. I hope she isn't overcharging you. You know it's rent controlled right?"

"...yes. Um, she's very...fair. I'm sorry I really have to be going."

"Ok well don't be a stranger! I hope to see you around soon!"

What the hell? So she just keeps this apartment? I wouldn't have pegged her for a Miriam. Maybe a Helena or Jaqueline…

Andy made her way outside, thankful when she saw a cab coming her way. Plenty of time to get home, recover, and get ready for her first day.


When the door to the apartment closed, Miranda felt relief. Relief that she didn't have to have an awkward morning after conversation, especially after fucking the girl as if she were someone else. Relief that she didn't have to crush the girl rather than explain herself. She rolled over in bed and placed her hand on the recently vacated pillow, still warm from the doe-eyed woman. Something about the quiet, the lack of steady breath beside her was unsettling. She brought it to nose and sniffed, deciphering notes of vanilla and sandalwood. The corners of her mouth upturned slightly before she stopped herself and popped up out of bed. None of that Mira. Get moving.

When Miranda left the apartment she also ran into Mrs. Steinberg who had her schnauzer leashed, likely returning from a morning walk.

"Miriam. I ran into your friend earlier. Hold on one minute, I have some things for you."

She handed Miranda the leash and disappeared into her apartment, ignoring the icy glare thrown her way. She returned, opening the door and nudging a banker's box over the threshold with her foot. "Sorry it's a bit heavy. Now that you've got someone subletting I figured you won't need me to check your mail anymore. I weeded out all the obvious junkmail but this stuff seemed important." She took the leash back.

Subletted? What a bizarre assumption.

Miranda looked down at the box then back up at Mrs. Steinberg. "I never said to check my mail. I told you to get rid of ALL my mail."

"Yeah, well, like I said. Some of it seemed important. Personal. It's not like I actually read any of it." Mrs. Steinberg turned to go back into her apartment as Miranda thumbed through the box, seeing mail that was clearly years old, as evidenced by the aging paper.

"And why now? Why give this to me today?"

Mrs. Steinberg paused facing her door, then slowly turned back around to look at her. "It just seemed like it was about time. Two decades is quite a long time to hold onto things for someone, wouldn't you agree?" With that, she went inside leaving Miranda standing alone with the banker's box.

She grudgingly grabbed it and hauled it out of the building with her, dumping it into Roy's arms as she slipped into her car.

"Take me to the townhouse Roy. Leave the box in the car until I can bring it into Runway. I'll deal with it there."

As the car passed through the still sleepy city, Miranda willed herself to concentrate on what she knew best—her magazine. She would not commit to memory every last feature of the younger woman, the smells and tastes unique to her. She would forget the ecstasy, forget the comfort, and forget the girl completely. She would move on, starting now.