No Strings Attached

I

\\Warning? - AGE GAP : Andrea is 24 and Miranda is 50. If that isn't your cup of tea then don't read. Thanks lovelies - ❤️ K//

Andy had no idea how she got here- And as in here she means moaning, and withering under her boss (aka the editor- in -chief of one of the world's most influential clothing magazines, Runway). The brunette's back arched as the editor's name fell from her plump lips like a silent prayer, and her eyes screwed shut before her third orgasm of the night ran over her. Miranda moved her way back up the younger woman's body and gracefully laid to the right of her.

"See yourself out, Andreá," The silvered haired woman instructed- her icy, distant tone back in place. Like she had did the time before, and the time before that. Andy recuperated and reluctantly pulled herself out of the luxurious King sized bed and grabbed her
earlier discarded articles of clothing and quickly dressed. Before hastily making her way out of her boss' room and house.

Later that night, Andy laid wide awake in her own small, twin size bed. The events of the previous hours running through her mind over and over again.

How did I get into this mess?

"Because Miranda Priestly gets what she wants," The brunette mumbled as soon as the question popped into her mind. "And she wants me."

This is going to end terribly.

Was the last thought of the night before exhaustion overtook the young woman, and she fell asleep.

TBC..