The Happiest Place on Earth, Epilogue
Here it is… as promised.
Rating: R / M
Alert: Need to warn that we sort of come around full circle… back to the reason our lovely ladies got together. Or rather, the catalyst that made it happen. Nothing too graphic in this regard, but you need to know the subject comes up.
The Happiest Place on Earth
Epilogue
Miranda Priestly was agitated. It took a practiced eye to discern it, but Nigel Kipling could easily detect the telltale signs. Chewing lightly on the inside of her lip, eyes constantly scanning the room in search of something, or someone, and her refusal to partake in the free champagne being circled about the room. She was definitely anxious. Nigel couldn’t initially piece the puzzle together. It was a typical spring time charity fundraiser. Beautiful venue, women dressed in amazing, revealing couture, men dressed in fitted tuxedoes, music, food, and enough alcohol to get the slightly inebriated wealthy to loosen their purse strings and cough up donations that would often equal the year’s salary of any one of their house staff. To his seasoned eye, everything was going smoothly. Music filled the cavernous room with warmth and serenity, the alcohol was flowing readily, dinner was to be served in fifteen short minutes, and Miranda had already made a reserved entry. Reserved only because this was not a Runway sponsored event. There was no obvious reason for Miranda to be upset.
Miranda’s eyes kept surreptitiously shifting towards the entry, searching. She was involved in a friendly debate with some midlevel politician when she suddenly stilled and turned her full attention to the main foyer. It was the mystifying sixth sense that had developed over the past six months that caused a tingle to run down her spine. Her face alit with a glowing smile when Andy Sachs emerged from behind a stately column, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. The brunette was dressed in a blood red Halston original. Typical of Halston, there seemed to be more skin than silk on display. Her hair was pulled up in a loose knot, tendrils escaping to frame her face. The only jewelry that adorned her were the tear drop diamonds in her ears that complimented the ring on her left hand. A smile spread slowly across her visage as her eyes landed on her fiancée. She strode confidently across the floor in five inch Louboutins, gaining appreciative glances from the surrounding crowd.
As Andy drew near, Miranda instantly recognized the signs of stress. There was a rigidity to Andy’s posture, a tightness around her eyes, a slight furrow in her brow, and a salutatory smile that never reached her eyes. Miranda grasped Andy’s elbow lightly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, lingering long enough to publicly stake her claim.
“Andréa.” Miranda’s voice could not conceal the emotions that welled up in her heart.
“Hi,” Andy opted for a naturally casual greeting.
“Is everything… all right?” Miranda hesitantly pried.
“All’s well.” Andy answered brightly, although slightly forced.
Miranda stared into her eyes, searching for the truth. Andy broke eye contact when a waiter passed with a tray of drinks. “Ooh, I’ll have one of those.” She giggled, grabbing a flute of champagne. Miranda let the subject drop as she was once again caught up into a conversation. Andy slipped away, leaving Miranda with a squeeze to her hand when she spotted Nigel across the floor.
“Six. How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. Busy, busy, busy.”
“And how is domestic bliss?”
“Absolutely blissful.”
“Rumor has it that you are being sought after by quite a few big names.”
“Yeah,” Andy chuckled. “Since the Potrovsky articles in Runway, I’ve received a few calls.”
“Are you answering any?”
“Actually…” Andy’s voice took on a cagey effect.
“What? What are you planning?” Nigel grew serious.
“I discussed it with Miranda and I’ve decided to go free lance.”
“No way.”
“Way. I have an appointment next week with Georgette Ballentine at the Brownstone Agency. Miranda gave her my name.”
“Oh, wow. Your very own agent. Our little girl has grown up.”
“I know, right?” Andy gushed. “It’s so hard to believe.”
“We always knew you would do it.” Nigel confessed.
“We?”
“Miranda and I chatted about you and your potential career on a couple of occasions.”
“Did you now?”
“What else were we supposed to talk about over lunch, fashion?”
“God forbid…”
The call to dinner was announced so Nigel offered his arm to escort Andy to her place. Depositing her with a kiss to her cheek, he left her to wait for Miranda. Miranda was assisted into the dining room by some nameless face who tried to impress the fashion goddess. Demurely thanking the man, Miranda took her seat and then immediately took Andy’s hand. Turning to her partner, ignoring the rest of the room, Miranda focused her full attention on Andy. “Did you schedule your appointment?”
“Yup.” Andy answered happily. “Next Tuesday with Georgette. She sounded excited.”
“I’m sure.” Miranda smirked.
“Did your meeting go well with Irv today?”
“Wonderfully, actually.” Miranda leaned in close, lowering her voice for only Andy to hear. “He has informed me he will be retiring at the end of the summer.”
The expression on Andy’s face was priceless. It caused Miranda’s heart to burn. Despite the obvious happiness, there was still a cloud over Andy’s eyes. Miranda was troubled by the aberration, but she was pulled away by a voice to her left asking something inane about the end of summer’s September edition.
Dinner progressed with the constant stream of conversation, laughter, and the clinking of utensils. Despite the constant din, Miranda kept her ears trained on Andy, listening to her lilting voice and detecting an underlying note of something that sounded a lot like depression. She sounded tired, stressed, and listless. It was not obvious. In fact, only someone who had spent as much time as Miranda listening to and concentrating on the musical flow of her lover’s voice, would be able to differentiate this disconcerting tone.
As coffees and ports were being served, the music volume increased to tempt the daring to step out onto the dance floor. Miranda was startled out of a conversation when she felt Andy rising from her seat. Turning, she saw that Nigel had arrived to drag the gorgeous flower out into the dancing swarm. Miranda kept sight of her youthful fiancée, monitoring as she danced from one set of hands to another. After twenty minutes of non stop waltzing, swinging, and fox trotting, Andy wandered off the wooden staging to find her way to a restroom. Emerging from freshening up, Andy was startled when a hand pressed against her lower back, guiding her away from the evening’s festivities and towards the darkened coat check room. The door to the closet gave way easily and Andy was directed into the empty room, the door clicking closed behind her. The hand that was at her back grasped her elbow and turned her to face the woman who held her heart and life. Concerned ice blue eyes bore into her own chocolate orbs, dissecting the emotions within.
“Andréa, tell me what is wrong. Did something happen with the girls?”
“No”, Andy’s breath exploded from her lungs, desperate to keep Miranda from getting crazy with worry about her daughters. “No, they’re both fine. They got off on the train without a problem and called when they got to South Hampton. Richard was there to pick them up on time. They’re fine.”
“Then what happened? What has you so upset?”
“Miranda, I really don’t think this is the time or place.”
“Darling, unless you’re planning on breaking up with me, this place is perfectly fine to explain why you are so troubled. I do not like to see you in this state.”
“It’s really nothing.”
“Why are you insisting on lying to me. What are you hiding from me?” Miranda was not really concerned of any possibility of betrayal, she was merely trying to push Andy’s buttons to get her to open up. And it worked.
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Andy challenged.
“Parish the thought.”
Andy took a deep breath, holding it while she pondered the words she wanted to use, then expelling it with a muffled moan she began, “I received a phone call today. From Alex Cabott.” Miranda’s face pinched with worry. “Mark Dawson committed suicide last night. He’s dead.” The voice Andy ended with was hollow and cold, almost sterile. Miranda stood unmoving. Her brain whirred with the struggle to process what she just heard. Andy’s face remained passive and blank. As Miranda stared at her, she noticed a tear pooling in the corner of Andy’s eye and the younger woman’s lip developing a tremor. In a heartbeat Miranda’s arms were around Andy, giving her the support she needed to break down.
Andy trembled violently. Her hands were fists against Miranda’s chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was scrunched up in pain as she fought to control the scream in her head. There were no tears. Tears were more a function of sorrow, this was a different pain rending her soul. Miranda held her, rocking her, murmuring into her ear a stream of words that made no real sense but created a lifeline of familiar, comforting sound that helped to ground Andy in the reality of their life and love. When Andy’s breathing began to normalize, Miranda pulled back to connect with her eyes. The soulful chocolate pools were bright with unshed tears, but no longer had that shadowy cloud cast over them.
Miranda observed a change move through her younger lover. She could see the need and desire shift and displace the fear and anger that had possessed Andy only a moment earlier. Her eyes squinted in warning as Andy loomed close, attention locked on Miranda’s lips. Miranda stepped back half a pace, her hands grasping at Andy’s shoulders.
“Darling, not here. We will take this home.” She offered. Andy nodded and Miranda realigned herself next to Andy to guide her out through the crowd. Normally, Miranda would schmooze and charm her way though the noteworthy, cultured habitué in the ballroom, but this evening, her self interests were far more important than maintaining office politics. The determined set of her jaw and the flash of ice in her eyes warned off all attempts of interaction. Although eyebrows rose and tongues began to wag, no one intercepted or questioned Miranda Priestly.
The door to the car sealed shut with a solid thunk. Uncharacteristically, Miranda slid across the seat to sit close to Andy, never releasing her hand. No words were spoken as they drifted across town, returning to their personal fortress. Once Roy delivered them safely to the townhouse, Miranda directed Andy into and through the house to their room. Stopping Andy in the middle of the room, Miranda began to assist her partner out of her gown, pushing the silk from her shoulders to fall and pool at her feet. She pushed Andy back a step and swept the gown from the floor, draping it over the back of the chair. With Andy watching intently, Miranda removed her own accoutrements before dragging Andy into the bathroom.
Returning showered, moisturized, and naked to their bed, Miranda handed Andy onto the mattress, and then, crawling up to join her asked, “What do you need? What can I do for you?”
Andy’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight, sparkling with her rising desire. “I need to feel.”
Miranda smiled. She could do that. Andy felt the weight and heat of Miranda’s body as it pressed down on top of her. She could feel the hands smoothing over her skin, warming paths over her arms and down to her hips. She felt as fingers dug into soft flesh, scratching red lines into pale skin. She felt as teeth tugged at her lip, a tongue rasping across to calm the sting before plunging into the welcoming depth of her groaning mouth. She came alive with the feeling of curious lips and teeth tracing unknown runes down her body, swelling nipples and soaking the sheets. Tears dropped from her eyes as passion flowed from her center. A cry tore from her throat when mouth and fingers met at the juncture of her thighs, taunting and teasing. “Miranda, Please…. I need this. I need you.” Andy cried. Miranda answered by licking and sucking through and around Andy’s pussy lips and pressing fingers deep into her core, twisting them to brush against the sweet spot, only to pull out and repeat.
Andy’s fists pulled at the sheets, yanking them from their corner moorings. Her hips rose in a counter thrust against Miranda’s fingers. Her heels dug into the mattress, giving her purchase to press harder into Miranda’s ministrations. Miranda was focused on Andy’s responses. Listening to her lover, she adjusted the speed, pressure, and angles to control Andy’s body. She brought her nubile nymph to a panting, paralyzing edge, only to back off, delaying the inevitable. When she heard Andy’s moans broken by sobs she surged ahead, adding a third finger to her manual task while centering her oral attention to the hooded clit. Andy’s body arched from the bed as if an electric charge had passed through her, freezing for a long moment as a keening cry began to sound. Finally, her body crashed back to the bed as Andy screamed out in release. Blindly, Andy rolled away from Miranda, curling her body into a fetal position, and releasing sobbing tears.
Miranda grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and dragged it over their bodies as she wrapped her body tightly against Andy’s back. Her arms slipped around Andy and pulled her against her chest, waiting out the storm. As the tears abated. Miranda began to comb her fingers through Andy’s hair and rubbing her palm over her love’s shoulders. In time, Andy stilled, her breathing evening out after a heaved sigh.
“Darling, are you all right now?” Miranda whispered.
“I think so.”
“Would it help to discuss it?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what to say about it.”
“Can you tell me what you were feeling?”
Andy pushed back into Miranda, forcing her to roll back so Andy could turn and curl into her side, resting her head on Miranda’s breast. “I felt cold, raw, exposed. It was as if it had just happened.” Andy admitted. “We’ve moved so far away from it. I thought I had left it behind. I thought I was healed.” She pulled Miranda tighter. “When I got that call, it all came back. Everything, all at once. It was a punch to the solar plexus, knocking the air out of me, leaving me gasping on the floor. I felt as if I was bleeding. My life… our life was bleeding out of me. I knew I had to get to you. But I couldn’t pull you away from everything. So I got ready and came to you. Then I had to shut off or I would have broken down in front of everyone. I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t embarrass you.”
“I won’t bother to argue the last with you. I am sure you know what I would have to say.” Miranda replied. “Are you back, now?”
“I think so.” Andy smiled against Miranda’s breast, nuzzling into the softness.
“Andréa, are you here with me?”
Andy pushed up onto her elbow. Looking down into Miranda’s worried face she saw the love that had saved her the first time. She saw the woman she learned to love in return. At that moment, she felt the love burst through her, warming her like a double shot of whiskey, the heat infusing every cell and nerve ending. She lowered herself, allowing her lips to press against Miranda’s, sliding against responsive flesh. Humming, she opened to Miranda, requesting and receiving a playful battle of tongues. Slowing down, controlling the passion, Andy drew back with a soft smile on her lips. Tracing Miranda’s facial features with her fingertips, she sighed. “Hi” she giggled. “I’m back.”
“Oh thank god. I don’t think I could have made it through another trip to Disney World so soon.”
Through peels of laughter, Andy managed, “The happiest fucking place on earth.”
THE END ?
My Dearest readers,
I would like to take a moment to thank all of you for following along and offering such wonderful support throughout. My promise to not leave you all in the lurch was the single impetus that kept me working. Some days I did not think I had anywhere else to go. But then I would get a note from someone and I would magically become inspired. So, this is as much yours as it is mine. I hope I did not let you down.
As to the final question mark… some have suggested there are so many more “situations” in which to place the family. At first I laughed off these comments as insanity. How could I possibly continue? Now, I must admit, I have thoughts invading my work commute. Could it be? Would you accept?… Perhaps occasional one shots that would pop into this u-verse to revisit the family??? Talk amongst yourselves…. Or just give me a yay or nay.
Again, thank you all. This has been a most wonderful experience. I offer a toast, to all of you. Your talents have often amazed me. The humor you shared has kept me balanced. And your acceptance has been a wonderful balm. So, here’s to you all. Writers and readers. May you continue to create and share yourselves with the world. It would truly be a smaller, colder place without you.
Now, onto the next adventure…
Sincerely, GSDCow (aka: page six, LucyCow, Laura, and on occasion Jack Ass)
PS: I think someone owes me some “blathering”. You know who you are.
Rating: R / M
Alert: Need to warn that we sort of come around full circle… back to the reason our lovely ladies got together. Or rather, the catalyst that made it happen. Nothing too graphic in this regard, but you need to know the subject comes up.
The Happiest Place on Earth
Epilogue
Miranda Priestly was agitated. It took a practiced eye to discern it, but Nigel Kipling could easily detect the telltale signs. Chewing lightly on the inside of her lip, eyes constantly scanning the room in search of something, or someone, and her refusal to partake in the free champagne being circled about the room. She was definitely anxious. Nigel couldn’t initially piece the puzzle together. It was a typical spring time charity fundraiser. Beautiful venue, women dressed in amazing, revealing couture, men dressed in fitted tuxedoes, music, food, and enough alcohol to get the slightly inebriated wealthy to loosen their purse strings and cough up donations that would often equal the year’s salary of any one of their house staff. To his seasoned eye, everything was going smoothly. Music filled the cavernous room with warmth and serenity, the alcohol was flowing readily, dinner was to be served in fifteen short minutes, and Miranda had already made a reserved entry. Reserved only because this was not a Runway sponsored event. There was no obvious reason for Miranda to be upset.
Miranda’s eyes kept surreptitiously shifting towards the entry, searching. She was involved in a friendly debate with some midlevel politician when she suddenly stilled and turned her full attention to the main foyer. It was the mystifying sixth sense that had developed over the past six months that caused a tingle to run down her spine. Her face alit with a glowing smile when Andy Sachs emerged from behind a stately column, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. The brunette was dressed in a blood red Halston original. Typical of Halston, there seemed to be more skin than silk on display. Her hair was pulled up in a loose knot, tendrils escaping to frame her face. The only jewelry that adorned her were the tear drop diamonds in her ears that complimented the ring on her left hand. A smile spread slowly across her visage as her eyes landed on her fiancée. She strode confidently across the floor in five inch Louboutins, gaining appreciative glances from the surrounding crowd.
As Andy drew near, Miranda instantly recognized the signs of stress. There was a rigidity to Andy’s posture, a tightness around her eyes, a slight furrow in her brow, and a salutatory smile that never reached her eyes. Miranda grasped Andy’s elbow lightly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, lingering long enough to publicly stake her claim.
“Andréa.” Miranda’s voice could not conceal the emotions that welled up in her heart.
“Hi,” Andy opted for a naturally casual greeting.
“Is everything… all right?” Miranda hesitantly pried.
“All’s well.” Andy answered brightly, although slightly forced.
Miranda stared into her eyes, searching for the truth. Andy broke eye contact when a waiter passed with a tray of drinks. “Ooh, I’ll have one of those.” She giggled, grabbing a flute of champagne. Miranda let the subject drop as she was once again caught up into a conversation. Andy slipped away, leaving Miranda with a squeeze to her hand when she spotted Nigel across the floor.
“Six. How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. Busy, busy, busy.”
“And how is domestic bliss?”
“Absolutely blissful.”
“Rumor has it that you are being sought after by quite a few big names.”
“Yeah,” Andy chuckled. “Since the Potrovsky articles in Runway, I’ve received a few calls.”
“Are you answering any?”
“Actually…” Andy’s voice took on a cagey effect.
“What? What are you planning?” Nigel grew serious.
“I discussed it with Miranda and I’ve decided to go free lance.”
“No way.”
“Way. I have an appointment next week with Georgette Ballentine at the Brownstone Agency. Miranda gave her my name.”
“Oh, wow. Your very own agent. Our little girl has grown up.”
“I know, right?” Andy gushed. “It’s so hard to believe.”
“We always knew you would do it.” Nigel confessed.
“We?”
“Miranda and I chatted about you and your potential career on a couple of occasions.”
“Did you now?”
“What else were we supposed to talk about over lunch, fashion?”
“God forbid…”
The call to dinner was announced so Nigel offered his arm to escort Andy to her place. Depositing her with a kiss to her cheek, he left her to wait for Miranda. Miranda was assisted into the dining room by some nameless face who tried to impress the fashion goddess. Demurely thanking the man, Miranda took her seat and then immediately took Andy’s hand. Turning to her partner, ignoring the rest of the room, Miranda focused her full attention on Andy. “Did you schedule your appointment?”
“Yup.” Andy answered happily. “Next Tuesday with Georgette. She sounded excited.”
“I’m sure.” Miranda smirked.
“Did your meeting go well with Irv today?”
“Wonderfully, actually.” Miranda leaned in close, lowering her voice for only Andy to hear. “He has informed me he will be retiring at the end of the summer.”
The expression on Andy’s face was priceless. It caused Miranda’s heart to burn. Despite the obvious happiness, there was still a cloud over Andy’s eyes. Miranda was troubled by the aberration, but she was pulled away by a voice to her left asking something inane about the end of summer’s September edition.
Dinner progressed with the constant stream of conversation, laughter, and the clinking of utensils. Despite the constant din, Miranda kept her ears trained on Andy, listening to her lilting voice and detecting an underlying note of something that sounded a lot like depression. She sounded tired, stressed, and listless. It was not obvious. In fact, only someone who had spent as much time as Miranda listening to and concentrating on the musical flow of her lover’s voice, would be able to differentiate this disconcerting tone.
As coffees and ports were being served, the music volume increased to tempt the daring to step out onto the dance floor. Miranda was startled out of a conversation when she felt Andy rising from her seat. Turning, she saw that Nigel had arrived to drag the gorgeous flower out into the dancing swarm. Miranda kept sight of her youthful fiancée, monitoring as she danced from one set of hands to another. After twenty minutes of non stop waltzing, swinging, and fox trotting, Andy wandered off the wooden staging to find her way to a restroom. Emerging from freshening up, Andy was startled when a hand pressed against her lower back, guiding her away from the evening’s festivities and towards the darkened coat check room. The door to the closet gave way easily and Andy was directed into the empty room, the door clicking closed behind her. The hand that was at her back grasped her elbow and turned her to face the woman who held her heart and life. Concerned ice blue eyes bore into her own chocolate orbs, dissecting the emotions within.
“Andréa, tell me what is wrong. Did something happen with the girls?”
“No”, Andy’s breath exploded from her lungs, desperate to keep Miranda from getting crazy with worry about her daughters. “No, they’re both fine. They got off on the train without a problem and called when they got to South Hampton. Richard was there to pick them up on time. They’re fine.”
“Then what happened? What has you so upset?”
“Miranda, I really don’t think this is the time or place.”
“Darling, unless you’re planning on breaking up with me, this place is perfectly fine to explain why you are so troubled. I do not like to see you in this state.”
“It’s really nothing.”
“Why are you insisting on lying to me. What are you hiding from me?” Miranda was not really concerned of any possibility of betrayal, she was merely trying to push Andy’s buttons to get her to open up. And it worked.
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Andy challenged.
“Parish the thought.”
Andy took a deep breath, holding it while she pondered the words she wanted to use, then expelling it with a muffled moan she began, “I received a phone call today. From Alex Cabott.” Miranda’s face pinched with worry. “Mark Dawson committed suicide last night. He’s dead.” The voice Andy ended with was hollow and cold, almost sterile. Miranda stood unmoving. Her brain whirred with the struggle to process what she just heard. Andy’s face remained passive and blank. As Miranda stared at her, she noticed a tear pooling in the corner of Andy’s eye and the younger woman’s lip developing a tremor. In a heartbeat Miranda’s arms were around Andy, giving her the support she needed to break down.
Andy trembled violently. Her hands were fists against Miranda’s chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was scrunched up in pain as she fought to control the scream in her head. There were no tears. Tears were more a function of sorrow, this was a different pain rending her soul. Miranda held her, rocking her, murmuring into her ear a stream of words that made no real sense but created a lifeline of familiar, comforting sound that helped to ground Andy in the reality of their life and love. When Andy’s breathing began to normalize, Miranda pulled back to connect with her eyes. The soulful chocolate pools were bright with unshed tears, but no longer had that shadowy cloud cast over them.
Miranda observed a change move through her younger lover. She could see the need and desire shift and displace the fear and anger that had possessed Andy only a moment earlier. Her eyes squinted in warning as Andy loomed close, attention locked on Miranda’s lips. Miranda stepped back half a pace, her hands grasping at Andy’s shoulders.
“Darling, not here. We will take this home.” She offered. Andy nodded and Miranda realigned herself next to Andy to guide her out through the crowd. Normally, Miranda would schmooze and charm her way though the noteworthy, cultured habitué in the ballroom, but this evening, her self interests were far more important than maintaining office politics. The determined set of her jaw and the flash of ice in her eyes warned off all attempts of interaction. Although eyebrows rose and tongues began to wag, no one intercepted or questioned Miranda Priestly.
The door to the car sealed shut with a solid thunk. Uncharacteristically, Miranda slid across the seat to sit close to Andy, never releasing her hand. No words were spoken as they drifted across town, returning to their personal fortress. Once Roy delivered them safely to the townhouse, Miranda directed Andy into and through the house to their room. Stopping Andy in the middle of the room, Miranda began to assist her partner out of her gown, pushing the silk from her shoulders to fall and pool at her feet. She pushed Andy back a step and swept the gown from the floor, draping it over the back of the chair. With Andy watching intently, Miranda removed her own accoutrements before dragging Andy into the bathroom.
Returning showered, moisturized, and naked to their bed, Miranda handed Andy onto the mattress, and then, crawling up to join her asked, “What do you need? What can I do for you?”
Andy’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight, sparkling with her rising desire. “I need to feel.”
Miranda smiled. She could do that. Andy felt the weight and heat of Miranda’s body as it pressed down on top of her. She could feel the hands smoothing over her skin, warming paths over her arms and down to her hips. She felt as fingers dug into soft flesh, scratching red lines into pale skin. She felt as teeth tugged at her lip, a tongue rasping across to calm the sting before plunging into the welcoming depth of her groaning mouth. She came alive with the feeling of curious lips and teeth tracing unknown runes down her body, swelling nipples and soaking the sheets. Tears dropped from her eyes as passion flowed from her center. A cry tore from her throat when mouth and fingers met at the juncture of her thighs, taunting and teasing. “Miranda, Please…. I need this. I need you.” Andy cried. Miranda answered by licking and sucking through and around Andy’s pussy lips and pressing fingers deep into her core, twisting them to brush against the sweet spot, only to pull out and repeat.
Andy’s fists pulled at the sheets, yanking them from their corner moorings. Her hips rose in a counter thrust against Miranda’s fingers. Her heels dug into the mattress, giving her purchase to press harder into Miranda’s ministrations. Miranda was focused on Andy’s responses. Listening to her lover, she adjusted the speed, pressure, and angles to control Andy’s body. She brought her nubile nymph to a panting, paralyzing edge, only to back off, delaying the inevitable. When she heard Andy’s moans broken by sobs she surged ahead, adding a third finger to her manual task while centering her oral attention to the hooded clit. Andy’s body arched from the bed as if an electric charge had passed through her, freezing for a long moment as a keening cry began to sound. Finally, her body crashed back to the bed as Andy screamed out in release. Blindly, Andy rolled away from Miranda, curling her body into a fetal position, and releasing sobbing tears.
Miranda grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and dragged it over their bodies as she wrapped her body tightly against Andy’s back. Her arms slipped around Andy and pulled her against her chest, waiting out the storm. As the tears abated. Miranda began to comb her fingers through Andy’s hair and rubbing her palm over her love’s shoulders. In time, Andy stilled, her breathing evening out after a heaved sigh.
“Darling, are you all right now?” Miranda whispered.
“I think so.”
“Would it help to discuss it?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what to say about it.”
“Can you tell me what you were feeling?”
Andy pushed back into Miranda, forcing her to roll back so Andy could turn and curl into her side, resting her head on Miranda’s breast. “I felt cold, raw, exposed. It was as if it had just happened.” Andy admitted. “We’ve moved so far away from it. I thought I had left it behind. I thought I was healed.” She pulled Miranda tighter. “When I got that call, it all came back. Everything, all at once. It was a punch to the solar plexus, knocking the air out of me, leaving me gasping on the floor. I felt as if I was bleeding. My life… our life was bleeding out of me. I knew I had to get to you. But I couldn’t pull you away from everything. So I got ready and came to you. Then I had to shut off or I would have broken down in front of everyone. I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t embarrass you.”
“I won’t bother to argue the last with you. I am sure you know what I would have to say.” Miranda replied. “Are you back, now?”
“I think so.” Andy smiled against Miranda’s breast, nuzzling into the softness.
“Andréa, are you here with me?”
Andy pushed up onto her elbow. Looking down into Miranda’s worried face she saw the love that had saved her the first time. She saw the woman she learned to love in return. At that moment, she felt the love burst through her, warming her like a double shot of whiskey, the heat infusing every cell and nerve ending. She lowered herself, allowing her lips to press against Miranda’s, sliding against responsive flesh. Humming, she opened to Miranda, requesting and receiving a playful battle of tongues. Slowing down, controlling the passion, Andy drew back with a soft smile on her lips. Tracing Miranda’s facial features with her fingertips, she sighed. “Hi” she giggled. “I’m back.”
“Oh thank god. I don’t think I could have made it through another trip to Disney World so soon.”
Through peels of laughter, Andy managed, “The happiest fucking place on earth.”
THE END ?
My Dearest readers,
I would like to take a moment to thank all of you for following along and offering such wonderful support throughout. My promise to not leave you all in the lurch was the single impetus that kept me working. Some days I did not think I had anywhere else to go. But then I would get a note from someone and I would magically become inspired. So, this is as much yours as it is mine. I hope I did not let you down.
As to the final question mark… some have suggested there are so many more “situations” in which to place the family. At first I laughed off these comments as insanity. How could I possibly continue? Now, I must admit, I have thoughts invading my work commute. Could it be? Would you accept?… Perhaps occasional one shots that would pop into this u-verse to revisit the family??? Talk amongst yourselves…. Or just give me a yay or nay.
Again, thank you all. This has been a most wonderful experience. I offer a toast, to all of you. Your talents have often amazed me. The humor you shared has kept me balanced. And your acceptance has been a wonderful balm. So, here’s to you all. Writers and readers. May you continue to create and share yourselves with the world. It would truly be a smaller, colder place without you.
Now, onto the next adventure…
Sincerely, GSDCow (aka: page six, LucyCow, Laura, and on occasion Jack Ass)
PS: I think someone owes me some “blathering”. You know who you are.