B is for Bitch...and Birkin Part 4
Fandom: Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for Dylan. He's mine. And no ladies, he's not single.
Summary: Runway is robbed. Andy loses a Birkin.
Feedback: gives me warm fuzzies
Part 1: http://queencher.livejournal.com/945.html
Part 2: http://queencher.livejournal.com/1155.html
Part3: http://queencher.livejournal.com/1438.html
Andy groaned into the collision of lips and noses and teeth. It was violent, Miranda seemingly still trying to bite her and failing. Then came the thrill of initial tongue to tongue contact and Andy heard the most delicious sound escape from Miranda’s throat. Encouraged by the gravelly moan, Andy explored Miranda’s mouth, finding herself fascinated with Miranda’s sharp little canine teeth, her tongue flicking over their points, enjoying the ever so faint pain as they grazed her.
What happened next gifted Andy with the most erotic sight she had ever witnessed.
The ice queen pulled away from her mouth, the dark pools of desire illuminating her irises not going amiss.
And then she was on her knees.
Silver hair tickled Andy’s abdomen as Miranda inched towards her wet and waiting centre, the slightly askew nose coming to rest directly above where it was needed.
Andy’s hands tangled themselves in Miranda’s hair as she felt that first tentative touch of probing muscle against her aching clit. She moaned and thanked God for the supporting wall behind her back. She was sure that in its absence she would have fallen to the floor, knees too weak to support her.
Andy felt Miranda’s forearm pin her hips to the wall while her tongue teased her, exploring every crevice, licking and sucking and stroking.
“Miranda...”
It was more effort than she realised to even whisper the woman’s name. But Miranda seemed to have heard.
Andy quivered violently as the editor’s tongue sped up against her flesh, with every touch, moving higher towards the place Andy needed to feel it the most. And then Miranda’s mouth encompassed that tiny little bud.
Andy could feel her fingernails cutting into Miranda’s scalp as she came.
She shrieked as her body convulsed, electric shocks of pleasure rushing through her, Miranda continuously milking each wave with expertise, allowing Andy to come down from her high.
And then her knees gave out and Andy slumped into Miranda’s arms, burying her head against the silk of the editor’s Prada blouse, inhaling the sweet smell she found dancing along the older woman’s neck. Andy could feel Miranda’s pulse against her cheek, erratic and fast.
Andy’s chest heaved as she came down from her orgasm, the muscles in her thighs twitched of their own accord. Andy tried to suck in a deep breath and failed, quick, short sharp inhalations continuing to warm the skin at Miranda’s throat while the editors manicured fingernails tattooed random patterns down her spine.
With some minor difficulty, Andy leaned back and chanced a look into Miranda’s eyes. They were molten. A smirk was curling at the edges of the older woman’s perfect mouth, fire and amusement making their way into her fiery orbs.
“My my,” Andy could hear the delight in Miranda’s voice, “You certainly are responsive Andrea.”
Without hesitating, Andy violently shoved Miranda down to the floor, pinning her wrists at either side of her head. Miranda gasped loudly as her eyes flew to Andy’s in surprise. Andy grinned at the silver-haired tyrant and bared her teeth against that beautiful mouth, silently thanking Hermes and Jane Birkin for their legendary collaboration.
“I bet you are too...”
FIN.
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for Dylan. He's mine. And no ladies, he's not single.
Summary: Runway is robbed. Andy loses a Birkin.
Feedback: gives me warm fuzzies
Part 1: http://queencher.livejournal.com/945.html
Part 2: http://queencher.livejournal.com/1155.html
Part3: http://queencher.livejournal.com/1438.html
Andy groaned into the collision of lips and noses and teeth. It was violent, Miranda seemingly still trying to bite her and failing. Then came the thrill of initial tongue to tongue contact and Andy heard the most delicious sound escape from Miranda’s throat. Encouraged by the gravelly moan, Andy explored Miranda’s mouth, finding herself fascinated with Miranda’s sharp little canine teeth, her tongue flicking over their points, enjoying the ever so faint pain as they grazed her.
What happened next gifted Andy with the most erotic sight she had ever witnessed.
The ice queen pulled away from her mouth, the dark pools of desire illuminating her irises not going amiss.
And then she was on her knees.
Silver hair tickled Andy’s abdomen as Miranda inched towards her wet and waiting centre, the slightly askew nose coming to rest directly above where it was needed.
Andy’s hands tangled themselves in Miranda’s hair as she felt that first tentative touch of probing muscle against her aching clit. She moaned and thanked God for the supporting wall behind her back. She was sure that in its absence she would have fallen to the floor, knees too weak to support her.
Andy felt Miranda’s forearm pin her hips to the wall while her tongue teased her, exploring every crevice, licking and sucking and stroking.
“Miranda...”
It was more effort than she realised to even whisper the woman’s name. But Miranda seemed to have heard.
Andy quivered violently as the editor’s tongue sped up against her flesh, with every touch, moving higher towards the place Andy needed to feel it the most. And then Miranda’s mouth encompassed that tiny little bud.
Andy could feel her fingernails cutting into Miranda’s scalp as she came.
She shrieked as her body convulsed, electric shocks of pleasure rushing through her, Miranda continuously milking each wave with expertise, allowing Andy to come down from her high.
And then her knees gave out and Andy slumped into Miranda’s arms, burying her head against the silk of the editor’s Prada blouse, inhaling the sweet smell she found dancing along the older woman’s neck. Andy could feel Miranda’s pulse against her cheek, erratic and fast.
Andy’s chest heaved as she came down from her orgasm, the muscles in her thighs twitched of their own accord. Andy tried to suck in a deep breath and failed, quick, short sharp inhalations continuing to warm the skin at Miranda’s throat while the editors manicured fingernails tattooed random patterns down her spine.
With some minor difficulty, Andy leaned back and chanced a look into Miranda’s eyes. They were molten. A smirk was curling at the edges of the older woman’s perfect mouth, fire and amusement making their way into her fiery orbs.
“My my,” Andy could hear the delight in Miranda’s voice, “You certainly are responsive Andrea.”
Without hesitating, Andy violently shoved Miranda down to the floor, pinning her wrists at either side of her head. Miranda gasped loudly as her eyes flew to Andy’s in surprise. Andy grinned at the silver-haired tyrant and bared her teeth against that beautiful mouth, silently thanking Hermes and Jane Birkin for their legendary collaboration.
“I bet you are too...”
FIN.