Putting the memories of all her previous New York summers to good use, she managed to construct a passable piece on the joys of city parks and the ever-imaginative uses of fountains. She grimaced as she read through it. Well, barely passable.

Truth be told, she did not stand a chance. Her concentration had been shot straight to hell and it was not coming back any time soon. They had admitted… something... to each other. What exactly, remained to be seen. Obviously, even though it was mostly left unspoken, they both wished to spend some more time together. Together. Even that tiny admission was enough to raise the tension to unbearable heights.

So, how on Earth was she supposed to write about frolicking children while lounging five feet away from Miranda, who did not see fit to change out of that flimsy robe?

Now, erotica she could do.

She looked to her side and swallowed a gasp. Miranda had bent her knee, holding up the Book. Her beautiful inner thigh was peaking at Andy. And if she leaned forward just a bit, she could see the shadowy curve of her breast.

She forced herself to return her attention back to the screen. It would simply have to do. She connected to the Net via phone and her sad little article was happily on its way to her editor's desk.


Resolutely she closed the laptop and forced herself to relax. She traced the cloud shapes for a while, but stopped when all she could think was voluptuous and boobies. She tried to enjoy the beautiful scenery but caught herself checking the taut line of Miranda's thigh again.

All of a sudden, her throat felt awfully parched.

"I'm going for a swim," Andy jumped out of the chair.

At Miranda's startled look, she attempted to explain, "I'm hot." The words came out surprisingly rough and husky.

Miranda took her glasses off and focused on Andy. She tilted her head in contemplation, her eyes half-shut.

"Perhaps I'll join you," Miranda said lazily, "In a bit."

Andy shakily pointed behind herself, "I, uh, need to change."

There was no way she'd repeat the au naturel look from yesterday. She pulled on that newly acquired sports bra and her own, far more sedate panties (in any case, it would have been a crime to ruin the La Perlas). While passing by Miranda, she happily noticed her disappointment at Andy's choice of swimwear.

The water was pleasantly warm, particularly once she drifted closer to the shoreline. She swam for a while, stretching her painful back muscles. Very resolutely, she refused to look in the direction of the house. The water was perfectly still and surprisingly clear in the early afternoon sun: she could distinguish each tiny pebble sprawled on the lake bed, each tiny fish zigzagging in the deep. Finally, she found a nice level spot near the shore where she gingerly straightened up. The water reached up to her waist, and she enjoyed the sun warming her back while she observed the local nature from this new angle.

The rustling from the shore drew her attention. There was a family of ducks entering the water nearby. She stood motionless, balancing occasionally with gentle arm strokes. Still, she couldn't help but snort at the ducklings trying - quite ineffectively - to keep an orderly line behind their mother.

"They are quite endearing," A soft voice murmured in her ear.

Andy gasped and turned quickly, "Miranda!"

There was an outburst of nervous quacks and hurried flutter of wings somewhere behind her, but it was just a background noise. Miranda was standing a few feet away from her. And, Andy swallowed, that wet hair look from yesterday was back.

Greedily, Andy's eyes dropped down.


Her knees simply folded. Fumbling, she wind-milled desperately to keep afloat until she found her legs again.

It seemed Miranda had found something expendable to wear, as well. A plain white, men's shirt.

Andy whimpered. She'd have to inform Miranda that fashion design was an utterly useless endeavor, a complete waste of time. Because, there was nothing, absolutely nothing in the whole world, more enticing than that plain, white, men's shirt.

Wet shirt. Plastered to Miranda's front.

Andy's throat worked as she tried to form a sentence, "Nice shirt."

"It's despicable," Miranda scoffed. "Just look at those horrible plastic buttons."

Andy looked. Oh, how she looked. A beautiful, dark nipple strained against the shirt, presenting itself in all its glory, unhindered by transparent fabric. Andy frowned at the other nipple, hiding behind the double layer of shirt pocket.

Her fingers tingled with need to touch.

"Oh, my God," Andy said to the buttons reverently and ducked underwater. When she finally emerged, Miranda was giving her a knowing look.

"Turn around," Miranda finally ordered.

"Why?" Andy asked even though she was already turning, half grateful for respite. That nipple sighting just about killed her.

"Mhmm, as I thought," Miranda hummed as she tapped her shoulder blade. "Be careful, you are starting to burn."

"Oh," Andy shivered violently. She closed her eyes, better to concentrate on Miranda's strokes.

"What?" Miranda's fingers traced a line from her neck to tip of her shoulder.

"Nothing," Andy whimpered, and added trying to preserve at least some pride, "I think I overdid it yesterday."

"Wielding that axe, you mean?" Miranda murmured, distracted, "Oh, it was worth the effort, I assure you." She passed her fingers lightly over Andy's bicep, and continued as if talking to herself, "I had no idea."

"Huh?" Andy was losing the thread of conversation, soaking in the gentle touch.

Miranda pressed her fingers in the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "Does this hurt?"

"No. Yeah." Actually, the pain was only a tiny bit of the overall experience. "No."

"This should help," Miranda massaged her shoulders with gentle but sure strokes.

"Oh, God," Andy moaned.


"Feels good."

"Oh, I bet it does," Miranda's voice tickled her ear. Next, Andy felt the wide straps of her bra sliding down her shoulders. Her breath hitched as the hands roamed newly exposed territory. There was a feathery touch on her neck, even softer than Miranda's fingertips. She felt it again, just a brush of lips that made Andy's toes curl.

Miranda pressed closer, the shirt rough against her back, the buttons and nipples grazing her shoulder blades. She felt a soft, wet stroke under her ear and almost collapsed: Miranda was licking the water drops away.

Andy moaned. Hands were sneaking around her waist, nails lightly scratching at her skin. Andy's stomach contracted in want. She gasped for air. The touch climbed higher, skimming her ribs, pausing at the elastic edge of her sports bra.

Miranda pulled lightly at the fabric then whispered next to her ear, "Well?"

Hurriedly, Andy grabbed at the straps of the top and pushed the garment down to her waist. Miranda laughed lightly, her breath tickling Andy's ear. Andy waited with baited breath.

Then, finally, oh, finally, Miranda's palms cradled her breasts. They both moaned at the sensation.

"I watched those yesterday, while you were swimming," Miranda whispered, unmoving.

She let them both adjust to the feeling then rubbed her palms over Andy's nipples. Miranda started playing with them in earnest, pinching, flicking, rubbing until Andy could only lean helplessly back. She grasped Miranda's hips, desperately trying to keep her balance. She was truly grateful they were in water; she doubted Miranda would be able to hold her dead weight otherwise. She needed-, she wanted-

Miranda's right hand slid lower and crawled down her stomach. Her fingertips dipped playfully in her navel, then moved even lower. When Miranda touched the edge of her panties, Andy almost hyperventilated.

Miranda snapped the elastic, laughing at Andy's indignant squeak. Next, her fingers were playing in Andy's curls. She pulled lightly and Andy hissed impatiently. Before Andy could complain, she dipped her fingers even lower.

"You are ready for me, aren't you?" Suddenly, Miranda's agile fingers were plunging in her wetness, teasing, thrusting, prodding but never staying in one place long enough, long enough for Andy to...

"Please," Andy stretched up, only the tips of her toes touching the bottom, trying to make herself easier to reach. "Just... please!"

Miranda dove into her, once, twice and Andy convulsed, almost against her will, "Oh, God."

"I can't last- I- Miranda!" Andy keened, holding on to reality by mere threads.

"Let go, Andrea," Miranda said and Andy did, trusting Miranda not to let her float away.

They stood like that for a while, breathing harshly in perfect unison.

Then Andy turned around, and lunged at Miranda's lips.

She had often wondered what it would be like, kissing Miranda Priestly. She imagined the first kiss to be sweet but stilted, perhaps awkward, most likely hesitant and restrained. She certainly did not imagine it to be in the middle of some nameless lake, and sloppy and wet, and so urgent that Miranda was climbing her like a tree.

"Andrea," Miranda pushed herself up on Andy's shoulders, and wrapped her thighs tightly around her waist.

Andy almost drowned them both.

Miranda had no panties on.

She could feel the heat and coarse hair rubbing on her stomach. She grasped Miranda's ass and pulled her even closer. At Miranda's whimper, she kneaded her cheeks, following her desperate rhythm.

Miranda finally broke the kiss, pressing closer, stretching up, and gasping for air. When Miranda reared up, those coveted nipples offered themselves to Andy.

Obediently, Andy suckled through the shirt, too far gone to try and remove it. Miranda was moaning constantly by now, so erotic in her ecstasy, Andy almost came again.

"I need more," Miranda gasped. Andy bit the nipple in response. She pushed her right hand in between them and plunged in. Urgently, Miranda impaled herself on her fingers and, much sooner than Andy liked, she was gone.

They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped tightly together, enjoying the combined pleasure of hot sun and cool water.

"I'm wrinkling," Andy finally complained.


"We should get out of water," She tried again, more directly.


She pushed her tongue in Miranda's ear, suggestively, "I want you spread out in that chair."

"Let's go."

The ladder unfortunately proved itself to be too much of a temptation and thus, their deck chair plans got postponed by their stomachs. By the time they finally got out of water, they were starving. Fortunately, the invisible butler who, Andy had found out, went by the name Elisabeth - had brought enough food to last two days.

They shared Miranda's deck chair; Andy perched at the foot, a plate of cheese and fruits between them. When Miranda brought out the wine, Andy was supremely amused to find that Elisabeth had also procured one Swarovski wine glass. Nevertheless, after only a minute of Miranda sensually tracing the rim, she was more than willing to admit that wine tasted so much better if drank from proper vessels. Particularly if sipped directly from Miranda's lips.

After another heated wine testing lesson, Miranda traced Andy's eyebrow and frowned.

"I should work for a while," she said apologetically, "I need to use the light, while it's there."

"Of course, um, can I help?"

Miranda gave her a contemplative look,"There is an article in the laptop, on history of American sweatshops. You could take a look at that, if you wish."

"You mean to... edit it?" Andy laughed shakily, "Me? I'm not sure I can-"

"Of course you can," Miranda huffed, "I do not understand why you'd waste your considerable talent on that little paper."

"Miranda!" Andy exclaimed, with delight, "And how would you know? Are you reading the Mirror now?"

"I would never read that rag."


"Elisabeth scans for me the articles of interest."

They worked in companionable silence for a while. Andy was amazed how different it felt compared to the tense, uncertain silence of the morning. She had also found she had quite a lot to say about the quality of writing of the sweatshop article.

They worked diligently, their hands occasionally meeting (and then happily greeting) over the wine glass.

Next time Andy raised her head, she realized the light was rapidly receding. She turned the laptop off and stood.



She pulled the Book out Miranda's hands, and placed it on the table, "The light is bad, you'll ruin your eyes."

"Andrea," it was endearing how Miranda was trying to curb the annoyance in her voice. And failing, of course, "I do not appreciate-"

Her complaint died down as Andy dropped to her knees.

"I told you how I wanted you," Andy said, and lightly pushed against Miranda's thighs, "spread out on this chair."


Before the evening was out, the deckchair was replaced by the doorjamb, which then turned into the kitchen floor and finally morphed into the bed.

Sunday, August9

Just… north

Sunday morning started with fingers lightly scratching on Andy's shoulders.

Like a giant cat, Andy blissfully flexed her back muscles and Miranda hummed in pleasure.

"You have such a gorgeous back," she murmured, peppering tiny kisses down Andy's spine. "Such lovely, defined muscle tone..."

"Really," Andy drawled, and squirmed closer.

"Mhm, you are very callipygous, as well," Miranda bit her left buttock.

Andy giggled in delight, "Ooh, wordiness turns me on."

"I can tell," Miranda fingertips grazed at Andy's inner thigh and then burrowed further up.

"Whose house is this, anyway?" Andy traced light circles on Miranda's stomach.

"Friends," Miranda sighed, "But Daniel failed to stress that the accommodations were lacking." She turned her head to glare at Andy, "This is entirely your fault. Springing yourself on me like that. Really, Andrea! I hope this will not become a habit."

Andy kissed her leisurely and murmured saucily against her lips, "Do you now?"

"Oh. " Miranda licked her upper lip, "Well."

Andy laughed merrily, and returned back to her side, "It's a beautiful house, though. It's going to look great once it's furnished."

"Possibly. I would be interested to see what he does with it. Perhaps we should-," Miranda halted, her eyes widening.

"Yeah," Andy smiled, and put her fingertips on Miranda's lips, "Perhaps we should."

It was far too early to make plans and commitments, but it was good to know they were both on the same page.

"Hey," Andy said, trying to put some levity in the charged moment, "What's the name of this place, anyway?"

Miranda's lips twitched, "Mooselookmeguntic Lake."

Andy stared at Miranda, her eyes huge.

"Are you telling me that the place we first made love in is called Mooseleektoctic?"

"Mooselookmeguntic Lake," Miranda repeated perfectly composed.

Andy flopped back with peals of laughter. Through the eyes filled with tears, she could see Miranda smiling happily at her.

"And you better learn to pronounce it properly."



"Erm. Perhaps you should let me drive?"

"Why on Earth would I do that?"

"Oh, just so you could talk to the twins in peace, you know."


But she did throw Andy the keys.


"Did Elisabeth fill up the tank?"

"Whatever for? It's half full."


"Besides the gas station is just around the corner."