six impossible things before breakfast

Prompt: that gif that’s been circulating…

“Oh god, Andrea, what are you doing to me?” Miranda moaned into the young woman’s neck. The young woman who was straddling her in the Louis XIV style desk chair. The same young woman who, at this very moment one year ago, tossed her phone into a fountain. 

The young woman slid her hands along her thighs and pushed her dress up around her waist as she tugged the flimsy satin thong away. “You’re practically dripping,” Andrea whispered as she slid down to her knees. 

Miranda opened her mouth to reply, but froze as she heard the door to her suite opening and someone approaching. She gasped as she felt her chair being pulled closer to the desk. 

“Miranda,” Nigel said, “I just got these from Simon. It’s a fresh perspective. I think we could use him for some of the inside spreads.” He handed her the stack of photographs. “I thought you’d have finished that by now,” he said, pointing at the budget she had been looking at before Andrea distracted her.

She didn’t reply. In fact, she hoped Nigel would get the hint and leave, but something about his demeanor this afternoon just screamed “chatty.”

“You know, I never thanked you,” he said. 

Miranda felt Andrea’s fingers against her thighs and she tried not to squirm, focusing her gaze on the photos before her. “For what?” she asked.

“The promotion,” he said. 

Miranda felt Andrea’s fingers brushing her folds. “You’re welcome,” she said quickly, looking up and smiling. 

“I knew you would make it up to me. In fact, that’s the first thing I said—to Andy.”

Miranda’s eyes widened as the young woman plunged her fingers inside her hot, wet core. “O-o-oh, really?” she stammered. 

“Yes,” Nigel said cautiously. He took a seat in one of the chairs across from the desk. “I kind of miss having her around. But she’s really doing well for herself. I should call her and get drinks when we get back to New York.”

“Mmm,” Miranda hummed.

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

Miranda smiled and tilted her head. She intended to nod, but instead, her eyelids fluttered. 

“Sorry, I know you don’t want me to talk about Andy. I’m really proud of her, though,” Nigel said. “She’s been a trooper and really worked her way up the ladder—but honestly, you know? With integrity and hard work, not sleeping with the boss.”

Miranda inhaled sharply and her eyes flew open. She could feel Andrea’s long fingers curling up inside of her. “Yes…that’s nice,” she finally choked out. 

“You seem distracted. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, nodding slightly. A flick of the thumb across her clitoris caused her hips to buck involuntarily. She gasped and pressed her hand flat on the desk and held her breath. Nigel was staring. “Uhm, it’s that time of the month,” she said quickly, biting her lower lip to keep from hissing. She felt the distinctive flutter of Andrea’s tongue.

“Oh, of course,” he said, relaxing. “Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head and gently began to rub her temples. 

“You know, it’s been six months since the divorce, Miranda. Maybe you just need a good—you know.”

“Nigel,” Miranda gasped. “I don’t have time for this,” she said, waving towards the door. 

“Whatever you say,” he said, standing and heading towards the door. “You’ll be at the dinner this evening, right?”

Miranda slowly nodded, willing every nerve ending in her body still. “That’s all,” she whispered, waiting to hear the door click shut.

“Ohhhh, god!” she moaned, her voice echoing throughout the suite. She leaned back in the chair and thrust her hips forward. She was so close. She just needed… “Uhh!” she gasped, throwing her head back and gripping the arms of the chair. 

As the woman recovered from her orgasm, Andrea stood and placed gentle kisses to her cheek and neck between her words. “I wish—I could have seen—the look—on your face—when I had your clit—between my teeth.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she took a deep breath. “I was going for ‘dignified,’” she said. 

“I don’t think you can actually be ‘dignified’ when your lover is under the desk, eating your pussy,” Andrea said. Her lips curled up in a smirk. 

Miranda reached her hand behind the young woman’s neck and kissed her, moaning as she tasted herself on those beautiful lips. “Let’s get you back into the bedroom before someone else walks in,” she said with a wink.

(Source: emeraldorchids)

Don Gummer is used to trophy wife Meryl Streep picking up the big honors - NY Daily News

Meryl fucking Streep

isdangmaharot:


Miranda Priestly

Oh my god, Miranda.. Don’t do that.. You’re killing me..I can’t even.. Gawd.

reblogging again. cannot get this out of my mind.

isdangmaharot:

Miranda Priestly

Oh my god, Miranda.. Don’t do that.. You’re killing me..I can’t even.. Gawd.

reblogging again. cannot get this out of my mind.

Anonymous asked: Would you rather screw or marry Meryl?

screw!!! oh gosh, just reading that sentence basically answered the question for me.

Happy Easter!!
isdangmaharot:


Miranda Priestly

Oh my god, Miranda.. Don’t do that.. You’re killing me..I can’t even.. Gawd.

Dignified arousal.

isdangmaharot:

Miranda Priestly

Oh my god, Miranda.. Don’t do that.. You’re killing me..I can’t even.. Gawd.

Dignified arousal.

Anonymous asked: why don't you publish whatever you've written till now? Pleas? *suffering from Mirandy withdrawal symptoms*

I do love your eagerness, but this is a story I have to finish in its entirety before sharing. And I really can’t think about it until after the craziness of spending the holiday weekend with family subsides. xo

I can sue. If you tell the papers about Kathy Selden, it would be… ‘detrimental and deleterious’ to my career. I could sue you for the whole studio. Says so, right there.
Might be just as zippy if we was in Mississippi. 
Why is everybody picking on me?
Round tones. I caaan’t stand him.

Round tones. I caaan’t stand him.

Moses supposes his toeses are roses, and Moses supposes erroneously. But, Moses he knowses his toeses aren’t roses as Moses supposes his toeses to be. 

Moses supposes his toeses are roses, and Moses supposes erroneously. But, Moses he knowses his toeses aren’t roses as Moses supposes his toeses to be. 

@kitteninthesky12 answered: Wow. That severely fucked with my concept of time… Why even?? I’m freaking out a little now…..

I know, right? I was trying to figure out how many times would be a LOT of times to say I’d seen a movie, and I was thinking like 5,000, then did some math and realized I have not seen that movie every other day of my life. So fucking insane. 

have you ever calculated how many days you’ve spent on this earth?

Meryl as Clarissa Vaughan | The Hours, 2002