meryl’s moans

credit: tik tok @persephonysz AI

Andy jerked herself back into the moment, and was so glad she did, because suddenly she was standing in front of Miranda. Who looked like a goddess. She was wearing a filmy, billowy, floor-length evening gown whose colors drifted from dark grey at the breast to silver at the feet; it brought out her the white of her hair and the blue of her eyes, and draped gently over her belly from where it cinched beneath her bust. Sapphires glowed and caught the light in her drop earrings and in the fantastical, spiky choker that graced her throat. Andy realized it was a piece made by Stephen Webster. Just like her snake. Holy…

So Andy was not  used to seeing Miranda in filmy, floor-length champagne silk, with a full skirt that flowed down from the empire bodice. The color, which by all rights should have washed her out, instead matched her skin tone so perfectly that she almost appeared to be naked beneath a thin film of gold lace. The dress was also extremely low-cut. It was not the dress of a pregnant fifty-year-old newly single mother. It was, it was…

She heard herself saying stupidly, like she had when she saw Miranda at the benefit, "Wow." Only it sounded a lot more breathless and Miranda could actually hear her this time.

Miranda glanced at her, raising her eyebrows even as she gave Andy the once-over herself. "I mean, uh," Andy added.