Faded Nights

Faded Nights

I have found that creative people are rarely bored, they simply close their eyes and go wherever it is that they really want to be.



Mann slowly reached forward and grasped Katrina’s outer thighs. He lowered his head but slithered both hands up to the shiny edge of the material of her outfit. Mann strong hands suddenly gripped her aggressively. He peeked up into her face, while he bit down on his lip.

Katrina watched him for a second. Without warning, she quickly popped one of his hands, A smirk spread across her face when Katrina felt Mann recoil both hands. She stared at him fiercely in silence.

“I’m sorry, “Mann whined.

“To whom do you speak?” Katrina asked.

“I apologize, Mistress,”


Mann gently rubbed his hands together. His eyes darted back and forth quickly. When Katrina cleared her throat, Mann’s mouth opened but nothing came out. At last, he closed his lips and hung his head down.

Katrina placed one heel on the floor. She cunningly slid her other leg firmly across his crotch while she unsaddled herself from his lap. Katrina stood on the side of the bed very close to him and folded her arms. She inhaled deeply.

“Did I not mention that I had no interest in restraining you?” Katrina asked.

“Yes, you did Mistress,” Mann replied.

“Then please explain why you grabbed me? I am most certainly thinking now that you very much would like to be restrained.”

Mann did not lift his head. Instead, he clasped his hands together and put them over the patch of fabric that covered his aroused manhood. Cautiously, Mann squirmed on her bed. His shoulders rose and fell deliberately, but he did not answer.

Katrina huffed. She walked to the foot of her bed and sat with her legs gaped widely. The cool room air rolled over her exposed treasure and she exhaled loudly. Katrina felt the bed shift before a faint shadow fell across her. She stared at herself in the mirrored wall and smiled.

Mann quietly crept around the bed and stopped in front of her. His hands were laid down over pockets and his shoulders squared. Silently, Mann put his knees on the floor between her thighs. Even though the air was cool, he wiped a light sheen of sweat from his brow.

Katrina moved her head and looked him directly in the face. Her eyes narrowed and focused on his eyes. The candlelight in the shadows appeared to dance flickers of light over his dark skin to Katrina. She watched Mann while he licked his lips, before she rolled her eyes.

Mann shoulders sunk again as if he was disappointed. He flung his head back and tried to meet her gaze for a second. Mann flinched at the stern scowl on Katrina’s face. Quickly, he back looked down at the carpet.

Katrina was amused and giggled at his uncertain actions. Gracefully, she dropped a hand over her puffy baldness that protruded from the strain of her crotch-less opening. Katrina reached for the zipper of her corset and pulled it slowly down. She stopped at her navel, when her breasts pushed the material past her cover for her stiff nipples.

She carefully traced a line from Katrina’s open zipper up between the cleft of her melons with one finger. With Mann on his knees, she had a clear view of her upper body in the mirrors behind him. Katrina started to suckle her glossed lips while her finger traced a path over to the hardened bud of her right breast. She gasped when her hand contacted the sensitive spot.

Katrina looked down at Mann before she removed her hand from her chest. She reached out and wiped his mouth with the same hand. Katrina felt the wetness of his tongue dart out and glide over the palm of her hand. She snickered with glee when he slowly raised his head and focused directly between her legs.

“Please, this is torture,” Mann begged.

Katrina lifted a leg and propped her spiked heel on his shoulder. Sensuously, she traced the puffy folds of her moist lips with the other hand. When Mann leaned forward to her, Katrina raised one eyebrow. She pulled her hand up to her own lips and kissed that hand.

“Bullshit,” Mann whispered.

“Shush, you can go home with that complaining or stay and deal with whatever I chose to do about those grabby hands of yours. Especially, when that mouth doesn’t answer when asked questions. Those sexy lips could be put to much better use than talking anyhow, as far as I am concerned.” Katrina replied.

Mann swiveled his head back and forth. He eyes fixated on the soft and plump pot of honey less than three feet from him. Mann inhaled, gulped, and then blew a long slow breath out. He turned his head toward her bedroom door and his cheek slightly brushed the leather of her high heel.

“I would rather stay,” Mann moaned.


© Inakat 2019

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