Day 9 - Bottom!Miranda/Squirting/Multiple Orgasms
"Andrea, I don't have time for this," Miranda snapped, her voice sharp as she leaned back against the headboard, her arms crossed over her chest in a clear display of defiance. Her usually impeccable composure was intact, but there was a flicker of something else—something more vulnerable—just beneath the surface.
Andrea stood naked at the edge of the bed, her hands on her hips as she raised an eyebrow at Miranda. "You always say that," she replied, her tone calm but firm, the patience of someone who had been through this routine before. "But we both know you need to let go. You can't keep pretending that you're in control all the time."
Miranda's eyes flashed with irritation, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I am in control, Andrea. I always have been."
"Not tonight," Andrea said softly, stepping closer to the bed, her gaze steady as she met Miranda's piercing blue eyes. "Tonight, you're going to let go. Whether you like it or not."
Miranda wasn't used to being on the receiving end of commands—especially not from Andrea. But there was something in the younger woman's voice, something unyielding, that made Miranda's heart race.
"I'm not in the mood for your games," Miranda muttered, her fingers tapping impatiently against her arm. "The book will be here soon, and I have a schedule to keep. I need to go down and review it."
Andrea didn't respond right away. Instead, she knelt down beside the bed, her hand reaching out to gently brush Miranda's leg, her touch light but deliberate. "I know you, Miranda," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "I know what you need, even when you won't admit it to yourself."
Miranda's jaw tightened, her body stiffening at the words. "Andrea—"
"You need to let go," Andrea continued, her hand sliding higher, her fingers lightly teasing the edge of Miranda's silk robe. "You work so hard, all the time. You're always in control. Always perfect. But even you need to release the tension sometimes."
Miranda's eyes darkened, her breath catching as Andrea's fingers gently parted the fabric of her robe, exposing the soft skin beneath. "This is absurd," she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite. There was a tension in her now—a tension Andrea knew all too well.
Andrea leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Miranda's knee, her lips warm against the cool silk of her robe. "You're stubborn," she murmured, her breath hot against Miranda's skin. "But I can be stubborn too."
Miranda's breath came in short, shallow bursts as Andrea's lips trailed higher, her fingers sliding the robe open, exposing more of her body. She wanted to resist, wanted to push Andrea away, but the sensation of Andrea's touch—gentle yet insistent—made her body betray her. Her resolve was weakening, and she knew Andrea could sense it.
"Andrea," Miranda said again, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "I—"
"You've given enough orders for a lifetime," Andrea whispered, her lips brushing against Miranda's inner thigh, sending a shiver through her. "Let me take care of you for once."
Miranda's hands clenched into fists, her body trembling with the effort of holding on to her control. She was Miranda Priestly—she wasn't supposed to let anyone else take charge. She wasn't supposed to surrender. But Andrea's touch, her words, were like a slow, steady erosion of her defenses, and she could feel herself slipping.
"Let go," Andrea murmured softly, her fingers trailing lightly over Miranda's thigh, teasing but not yet giving her what she needed. "Trust me."
Miranda's breath hitched again, her body trembling as she stared down at Andrea, her mind warring with itself. She wanted to keep fighting, to hold on to the control she'd spent her entire life mastering. But at the same time, the tension in her body—the weight of always being in charge—was unbearable. And Andrea, with her unwavering patience and quiet strength, was offering her something she rarely allowed herself: release from control, a break.
After what felt like an eternity, Miranda exhaled shakily, her shoulders relaxing just the slightest bit. "Fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But don't think for a second that you—"
Before she could finish, Andrea's lips pressed softly against the heat between Miranda's legs, silencing her with a slow, deliberate kiss that made Miranda's entire body tense. The protest that had been forming on her lips dissolved into a soft, involuntary moan, her hips bucking slightly as Andrea's tongue flicked out, teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Miranda's head fell back against the headboard, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Andrea's mouth worked her over, each movement calculated to drive her further and further from the control she so desperately clung to. "Andrea—" she gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as her body betrayed her, the pleasure building inside her with terrifying speed.
But Andrea wasn't about to let Miranda maintain any semblance of control. She knew Miranda—knew the way her mind fought to maintain its icy grip even when her body was desperate to let go. Andrea's tongue pressed harder, deeper, her lips sealed over Miranda's core as she buried her face between her legs, intent on driving Miranda past the point of no return.
Miranda's hips jerked upward involuntarily, her breath catching as Andrea's tongue slid inside her, fucking her with slow, deliberate strokes. Andrea could feel the heat radiating off Miranda's skin, could taste her arousal on her lips as she worked her over, her tongue plunging deeper with each thrust.
Miranda's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she clutched the sheets beneath her, her knuckles white with the effort of holding on. But Andrea wasn't giving her any room to breathe, any space to pull back. Instead, she pressed in closer, her tongue moving in and out of Miranda with relentless precision, her lips teasing the sensitive skin around her entrance.
"And-Andrea," Miranda gasped, her voice breaking as her hips bucked against Andrea's face, her legs trembling uncontrollably. She was so close, teetering on the edge, her body betraying her with every movement, but the words of protest were cut off as Andrea's tongue fucked her deeper, driving her closer and closer to release.
Andrea's hands slid up Miranda's thighs, holding her open as her tongue continued its assault. She could feel Miranda's wetness coating her mouth, the slickness of her arousal driving Andrea to work harder, faster, determined to break down every last wall Miranda had built up around herself. Her tongue moved with expert precision, thrusting in and out of Miranda's core, each movement eliciting a moan or gasp from the woman above her.
Miranda's breath came in short, ragged bursts, her body trembling violently as Andrea's tongue worked her over, hitting every sensitive spot inside her. She was lost, her mind spinning as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, her hips moving helplessly against Andrea's mouth. "I… I can't—" she gasped, her voice trembling with both desperation and frustration.
But Andrea wasn't stopping, not even for a moment. She could feel Miranda's body tensing, could sense just how close she was, and with one final thrust of her tongue, Miranda's body shattered. Her orgasm tore through her, her hips bucking wildly as a cry ripped from her throat, her entire body trembling with the force of her release.
Miranda's juices spilled onto Andrea's mouth, coating her lips and chin as she continued to work her over, her tongue moving slowly now, drawing out every last tremor of Miranda's orgasm. But even as Miranda's body came down from the high, Andrea didn't stop. Instead, she shifted her attention, moving her mouth up to Miranda's clit, her fingers slipping inside her, filling her with a slow, deliberate thrust.
Miranda gasped sharply, her body jolting at the sudden shift, the overstimulation sending a shockwave of pleasure through her already sensitive body. "No—" she moaned, her voice trembling as Andrea's fingers curled inside her, pressing against that perfect spot with devastating accuracy.
"Yes," Andrea murmured against her clit, her voice thick with determination as her tongue flicked out, teasing the swollen bundle of nerves with soft, deliberate strokes. "You're not done yet."
Miranda's hips bucked wildly, her entire body trembling as Andrea's fingers moved inside her, thrusting in perfect rhythm with the slow, torturous strokes of her tongue against Miranda's clit. Miranda's breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body writhing beneath Andrea's touch as the pleasure built inside her once more.
"I… I can't," Miranda gasped, her voice barely a whisper as her body shook violently. But Andrea's mouth and fingers were relentless, driving her closer and closer to another orgasm, pushing her past the limits of what she thought she could endure.
Andrea's tongue moved faster now, her fingers curling inside Miranda with just the right amount of pressure, her movements precise and unyielding. Miranda's body tensed, her hands clutching at the sheets as her breath hitched, her mind spinning with the overwhelming pleasure.
"Let go," Andrea whispered, her voice soft but filled with command as she pressed harder against Miranda's clit, her fingers thrusting deeper. "Let go for me, Miranda."
With a sharp, broken cry, Miranda's body shattered again, her orgasm ripping through her with even more force than the last. Her hips bucked violently against Andrea's face, her hands gripping the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her gasping for breath, her mind spinning with the intensity of it all.
But Andrea wasn't finished.
Her fingers moved faster, harder now, her mouth working Miranda's clit with unrelenting pressure as she drove her through the aftershocks, determined to push her even further. Miranda's entire body trembled violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the overstimulation became too much, her hips rocking helplessly against Andrea's face.
"I can't—" Miranda gasped again, her voice breaking as her body writhed beneath Andrea's touch. "Andrea—"
"You can," Andrea whispered, her fingers thrusting deeper, her tongue flicking over Miranda's clit with perfect rhythm. "Come for me again."
With a final, desperate cry, Miranda's body gave in completely. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her hips bucking wildly as she came with such force that her juices sprayed out, coating Andrea's face in a rush of liquid pleasure. She so rarely squirted, and never with any of her previous partners, then she would be lucky to have an orgasm.
Andrea was different though. She held her steady, her fingers still moving inside her, drawing out every last tremor of her release as Miranda's entire body convulsed with the intensity of it all. The older woman collapsed back against the bed, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the last of the tremors rippled through her, leaving her completely spent. Her body trembled with the aftershocks, her mind still spinning with the overwhelming pleasure, but Andrea didn't move, her hands and mouth still resting against Miranda's trembling body.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the room filled only with the sound of Miranda's labored breathing. Then, slowly, Andrea pulled back, her lips glistening with Miranda's release as she looked up at her wife, her eyes filled with quiet satisfaction.
"See?" Andrea murmured softly, her voice gentle as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Miranda's trembling thigh. "I told you to let go."
Miranda's eyes fluttered open, her chest still heaving with the effort of catching her breath. She stared down at Andrea, her mind still hazy with the aftermath of her release, but there was something else there too—a quiet surrender, a trust she rarely allowed herself to show.
Andrea, still resting between Miranda's legs, looked up at her with a soft smile, her hands gently stroking Miranda's trembling thighs. She didn't speak immediately, allowing Miranda to come down from the intensity of the moment. The silence between them was thick, not with tension, but with understanding.
"That," Miranda finally said, her voice soft and hoarse, "was entirely unnecessary."
Andrea's smile widened, a hint of playful amusement dancing in her eyes. "I think we both know it was very necessary," she replied, her tone gentle but firm. "You needed it."
Miranda let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, her hands unclenching from the sheets as she relaxed further into the bed. "I don't know why I ever let you win these arguments," she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words.
Andrea chuckled softly, moving up the bed to lie beside Miranda. "Because I know you better than you know yourself," she said, her voice teasing yet affectionate. "And you know that I'm right."
Miranda shot her a sharp look, though the edges of her expression were softened by the lingering pleasure that still coursed through her body. "You're impossibly smug for someone so young," she murmured, though her tone was laced with affection.
Andrea only smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Miranda's shoulder. "Maybe. But you wouldn't want it any other way."
For a moment, Miranda said nothing, her gaze focused on the ceiling as she worked to steady her breath. She was still fighting to regain her composure, still wrestling with the vulnerability that Andrea had just coaxed out of her. It wasn't often that Miranda Priestly allowed herself to lose control like that—to give in completely to someone else. But Andrea had a way of breaking through her walls, of pushing her past her carefully constructed boundaries, and somehow, it always left her feeling... lighter.
After a long pause, Miranda let out a soft sigh, her eyes sliding over to meet Andrea's. "You're incorrigible," she said softly, though there was a hint of a smile playing at her lips.
"I know," Andrea replied, her fingers gently tracing circles on Miranda's stomach. "But you love me for it."
Miranda's lips twitched into a faint smile, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Andrea's face. "I do," she admitted quietly, her voice softer than usual, almost tender. "Though I don't know how you manage to keep up with me."
"That's easy," Andrea said with a smile, her hand resting lightly on Miranda's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing. "I make sure you don't always have to be Miranda Priestly."
Miranda let out a soft, sardonic laugh, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Yes, well," she murmured, "you certainly have a talent for reminding me I'm human."
Andrea's smile softened, her hand gently squeezing Miranda's. "You are human. And even Miranda Priestly deserves to take a break every once in a while."
Miranda's eyes opened, locking onto Andrea's with a sharpness that belied her fatigue. "The book—"
Andrea interrupted her with a gentle, knowing look. "The book can wait until tomorrow. It's not going anywhere."
Miranda's brow furrowed slightly, her instinct to argue almost surfacing, but she knew better. She was exhausted, her body still tingling from the overwhelming pleasure that had left her undone just moments before. As much as she hated to admit it, Andrea was right. The book, Runway, the constant demands—they would still be there in the morning. But right now, in this moment, it could all wait.
"The book can wait," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she allowed herself to let go, if only for tonight.
Andrea smiled, her arms wrapping around Miranda's body as she pulled her closer, the warmth between them lulling them both into a quiet, comfortable silence. "It can wait," Andrea repeated softly, her voice filled with affection as she held Miranda close, her fingers gently stroking through her hair. "Everything else can wait."
And for once, Miranda didn't argue.