No Other Silly Girl Need Apply

By Gun Brooke

Part Ten

If anyone had ever tried to convince me that Miranda Priestly would do a virtual strip tease in front of me—meant for me alone—I would've called the men in white coats bringing straightjackets right away. Such delusions cannot be a sign of good mental health.

And still, here she was. This gorgeous, intimidatingly beautiful woman, slowly unzipping that sexy dress, which conveniently had the zipper located under her left arm. Once it was completely open, she pushed the spaghetti straps down, one by one. She didn't do anything exaggeratingly slow, but it was not fast enough for me. I swallowed against my dry throat and clung to that hook just above me. Miranda's grey, silk robe hung there, fragrant with her special scent, and that combined with the vision of her shimmying out of the cocktail dress was enough for my knees to weaken.

"Oh, God," I murmured.

Miranda stood before me in nothing but a black La Perla lingerie set and black stockings. She had kicked off her Prada pumps and that somehow made the look more real and sexy.

"You look like you approve." Miranda purred and reached behind her. "Maybe I should keep it on?"

"No." My response was instinctive. As enticing as she looked in her lingerie, a naked Miranda was no contest. Last night I had only caught glimpses in the dark, but now, in the soft light of the nightstand lamps, I could see everything as she slowly revealed herself.

"Well, then." Placing a foot on the stool in front of her vanity, she began rolling down her stockings, one by one.

"Oh, damn." I was shaking now. I clung to the hook and knew I could orgasm all on my own, without needing a single touch, if she kept that up.

The garter belt went next and then she pushed down her panties and tossed them on top of the pile of clothes to her left. "Now, you." It wasn't a question. Miranda approached me, pressed her naked body against my fully clothed one, and then yanked my button-down shirt out of my slacks. She didn't rip the buttons, though I wouldn't have cared if she did, but instead unbuttoned them so fast, she might as well have. "Lower your arms." She pushed the shirt off. My bra proved too easy, clearly. Hooked in the front, its cups fell apart as Miranda unhooked it. She then raised my hands to the hook again. "Don't let go, unless I tell you to." Unfastening my slacks, she shoved them down together with my black boy briefs.

I was trembling all over, my breathing chopped up in oxygen-depriving gasps. Everywhere her hands touched me in passing as she removed my clothes; small, sparkling, crackling fires erupted in their wake.

Then I was as naked as she was and she moved in for a full body embrace. I began to lower my arms, wanting to hold her tight so badly, I forgot.

"Ah-ah." Miranda took a step back, pursing her lips. "The hook, Andrea."

"I can't keep standing," I confessed. "My knees are so weak. And shaking."

She looked oddly pleased even if it meant I couldn't follow her instructions. "Then we have to improvise. I want your full attention…" She glanced around the room and then over to the bed. "Yes, that will work too." She took me by the hand and led me to the bed. Motioning for me to lie down in the center, I sank down among the soft bedding and pillows. Miranda crawled in after me, like a feline on the prowl; a white panther-like creature with iridescent blue eyes glittering toward me. Several mood lights were still on in the room and they rendered everything looking so soft and velvety. I looked up at her, my queen, my everything. She reminded me of an avenging angel where she hovered above me, her eyes scanning every part of me. Miranda licked her lips and then dipped her head and kissed me.

I wanted to wrap my arms around her neck, but she would have none of that. Instead she slid her hands along my arms until she reached my wrists. Taking them gently, she pulled them above my head and made me hold on to the ornamented headboard. This opened my body up even further for her exploration and it seemed to create more moisture between my legs and more tremors in every single one of my muscles.

"Now, Andrea. Last night we made love sort of out of the blue. Our bodies responded and our minds and hearts as well. No time for planning or asking important questions."

She wanted to ask me question, now? I stared at her, mouth no doubt agape. "Mir-Miranda?"

"Yes?" She looked at me closely. "Don't look so stunned. Isn't it prudent to know more about your lover? What you like, or don't like? What is your favorite position or, for instant?"

My head spun. "With you? Any position whatsoever. As long as there is a position with you, that's my favorite." I spoke from the heart. I think Miranda could tell, because her eyes softened even more and she aligned her body with mine so I could feel her heat from head to toe.

"All right. All positions are good as long as I'm part of the equation." She chuckled. "Well?"

What? Trying to catch up, I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what she wanted from me now. Oh. Oh! "What positions are your favorites and what positions do you hate?"

"I like any position with you that is humanly possible. Don't ask me to try anything upside down." She smiled, but her eyes flashed a warning.

As if. "And none that you really don't like then?"

Something dark flickered across her face. "Well. Perhaps with you it might be different, but before, being taken from behind has felt…disconcerting."

I wanted to sock it to whoever had hurt or scared Miranda while doing it from behind. That position was actually one of my favorites, to be honest, but I also knew that it took a lot of trust and affection for me to be able to relax and allow it. "I would never do that unless you agreed and that goes for anything."

"I know, Andrea." Miranda smiled broadly. "I do." She tilted her head and nuzzled my ear and then down my neck. "You get goose bumps when I do this. Feel good?"

"Oh, God, yes. When you do that nipping with your lips…yes, like that. Just like that." I arched and tried to feel more of her. "I love that."

"Good. As do I." Miranda kept nipping and nuzzling along my neck and the upper part of my chest.

My breasts ached to be touched. Wait-a-goddamn-minute. Didn't she more or less tell me to tell her what I like? God, I could be such an idiot. "I love when you suck on my nipples and—yes!" I pressed my head back into the pillows as Miranda closed her lips around my left nipple. The other one was not abandoned as she plucked at it and rolled it between her fingertips. Her mouth was so warm, and just the right mix of gentle and rough. Her teeth made me just nervous enough to send more moisture down between my legs, but I knew she'd never injure me. Still, the subtle scraping of those perfect teeth rendered me breathless and I could barely whimper.

"Go on, Andrea." Miranda spoke around my well-tended nipple.

"Ohh…I—I like when you touch me, I mean, my clit." I knew I was crimson and it wasn't for being prudish. I just couldn't quite wrap my brain around using intimate words like that around Miranda of all people. Still, her actions, and the way she willingly and with such passion feasted on my body, sent a clear message that I should just ignore her Snow Queen image and see the woman. The woman I…The woman I loved.

Just as Miranda pushed her fingers in between my labia, the realization hit me, the truth that could mean lifelong happiness or life altering heartbreak. I had nudged the idea before, the first time we made love, but know I knew without a doubt. I loved her. Not merely 'the first woman I was in love with', or something less earth-shattering like that—no that was selling this emotion way too short. This was life-changing…and it was one of those things that make you take stock of your life and see it with new eyes. I loved Miranda Priestly the way you love the person whom your life will never be the same without…whose presence makes everything and everyone else less colorful and less wondrous. She was the one. The one who is the filter which brings wonder to every experience, whether she is present or not. She is that person. My person. I trembled and kept staring at her.

"Andrea?" Miranda pulled back a little, merely cupping me now, a concerned frown between her eyebrows.

"Oh, Miranda," was all I could manage. "Miranda."

"Did I hurt you?" Pulling her hand back completely, she slid on top of me, cupping my cheeks with both hands. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything is…is perfect." I couldn't tell her. Could I? I trembled and merely looked up at her, into those sharp eyes that right now were softness mixed with worry.

"You went all rigid, darling. Do you want to stop?"

My terror filled happiness made me act. "No," I said firmly and wrapped my arms around her neck and back. I rolled us, ending up on top. Now I couldn't help but smile broadly. "I do definitely not want to stop." I kissed my way down her neck, up to her mouth, where I spent a good amount of time, my tongue dancing with hers. Then I resumed my exploration and moved down toward her breasts. "Your turn."

"My…what? Oh." Miranda was gasping so hard now, and trembling just as much as I had done just moments ago. "Tug at them. With your lips. Your teeth."

Oh, yes, I could do that. I sucked the right nipple into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue to get it really wet and pliable. Not sure if it became very pliable as my actions made it even harder, but she tasted so good. I did as she liked it, tugged at her, nipped and pulled gently. Her hands were in my hair and she guided me, and I allowed it.

Then, when both nipples were dark red from my attention, I kissed my way down her stomach. I was going to show my love in how well I loved her. I couldn't tell her, not yet, as she might just say something, Miranda-style, that tarnish this innocent and amazing moment. It was rather ironic that the person I loved this way was also the person who could place a sharp Prada heel on the feeling before it fully bloomed and thus deflated it.

"Tell me, Miranda. Do you like when I go down on you?"

"Oh, God, yes."

"Then I want you to tell me what to do. Tell me where to place my tongue."

She moaned and spread her legs wide to accommodate me. I made myself comfortable with the help of a couple of smaller pillows.

"Flatten your tongue against my clit, but only massage it gently," Miranda whispered.

I hummed in delight and did as she said. Her clit was actually quivering and the wetness Miranda's body produced seeped down to coat her thighs and my chin.

"That's it. That's it." Miranda moved her hips in a small circle. She must have realized after a while that I wasn't going to do anything different until she told me to. "Two fingers. Inside. Curl them upward."

Gladly, I entered her; my fingers easily went inside, as if pulled in by Miranda's body. I curled my fingers and found that rough little patch. I knew from my own experience that it needed rather firm pressure, so that's what I did. I kept massaging her clit and prodded her g-spot with insistent fingertips.

"Andrea!" Miranda arched off the bed as she came, convulsing and crying out in wave after wave. I let go of her clit and eased the pressure inside her, but waited until she was done shuddering before I slowly pulled my hand free. "Damn…" Miranda said huskily.

"Yes. Damn." I climbed up along her and straddled her right thigh. "Raise your leg, Miranda," I ordered softly. "I'm going to ride you because I'm burning up. I have to come."

"You can ride, but I'm going to have my way just the same," Miranda said. Her body was still trembling, but she pressed her fingertips in between my labia again and when I started riding her thigh, two of her fingers, slick with my moisture, ran on both sides of my clit. This pushed at the hood, exposed my clit to her slick thigh and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold off…and I couldn't even remember why the hell I should. I squeezed my thighs around hers and bore down on her fingers. The burning sensation was flooded when the orgasm hit and sparkles travelled through my system, originating from my lower belly and spreading until they stole the last of my strength. My arms gave in and I barely managed to land half off Miranda so I wouldn't crush her.

Her arms came around me in a fierce embrace. "Tell me you're fine."

"I'm fine. I'm all right."

"Tell me you're not leaving."

"I'm not leaving."

"Promise I won't be able to scare you away."

I could not tell she was really getting worked up. I rose on my elbow and looked down at her. "You still intimidate me every now and then, but you won't be able to scare me away."

"Not even if I was my most horrible self?" She ruffled my bangs and looked so intently into my eyes; I wondered what she was searching for.

"You're most horrible self isn't all that bad, Miranda." I smiled. I loved her so much and I would tell her soon. Perhaps she could never love me the same way, but the way she spoke and needed reassuring, told me she cared more for me and about me that she did most other people, not counting her children of course.

"You probably haven't seen the worst part of me yet." She drew a deep, trembling sigh.

"It doesn't matter." I rearranged her hair and made her s-shaped lock retake its rightful place on her forehead. "All I have to do is think of how you made me feel tonight and since I want to feel like that again and again and again, I will overlook your worst behavior."

Miranda's eyes lit up. "Andrea Sachs, you're simply astonishing."

Those were huge words coming from the woman who figured 'that dress isn't entirely atrocious' is high praise.

"Miranda Priestly, you're pretty fucking awesome yourself." I laughed at her demonstratively rolling of the eyes.

Yes, I would cling to this moment when I knew that I hadn't merely fallen in love, but she was the one. She would have to come up with something really bad for me to forget how I felt tonight.

TBC