Unconsciously, you lick your lips at the sight of him. Decked in his signature suit, he is straightening his tie in front of the mirror. To you he is the epitome of all polished, upper-class gentlemen. You muse to yourself that it was a look that fitted him perfectly despite the rugged, bad-boy image he enjoyed playing. Just before he finishes, you take a picture of him, wanting to capture that moment.
He scowls at you from where he’s standing, a bit flustered to be caught off-guard. His huge dislike of the paparazzi is no secret to you and you figure that this reminded him of that. You are about to apologize when his expression softens and he walks over to you.
You find yourself mimicking the bemused grin that’s fixed on his lips. You two were certainly a sight to behold. He's trying his best to emulate an aging Humbert Humbert, and you, attempting to play the part of his underage obsession Dolores Haze.
“Like what you see mister?”
“I always do.” He states, leaning forward to brush a kiss on your forehead.
You blush at the compliment, still not used to being thought of as beautiful by someone like him. You are well too aware of his past. At times you cannot help but feel intimidated by the number of trophy women he has dated. However, moments like these reassure you that he’s where he wants to be and this is not a gag to him.
Bringing your arms around his neck, you pull him closer and gently tugging him down to you in order to kiss him. It starts softly, but gradually growing in passion as it progresses. You feel his hands settle on your waist and he attempt to pull you closer to him. Both of you are annoyed to find an object preventing this. You look down to see your camera, separating the two of you effectively. Figuring it's time you started shooting anyway, you break away from the embrace, and pat his chest lightly as you do so.
“Sit on the club chair.” You tell him, ignoring the pleading look he’s throwing at you.
He had only recently agreed to your taking his picture in a shoot and you weren’t about to give up that opportunity.
It is, after all, the only reason that you let him into your apartment-cum-studio -- your past boyfriends being lucky enough to be told where it is located.
From your peripheral vision, you watch him do as he is told, albeit pouting in the process. You almost laugh at his petulant behavior, acting more like a six year old than the thirty-eight year old man that he should be, and you swear it's like you're the older one in this relationship.
Setting your camera on the tripod, you take in the set the two of you have created.
Earlier on you have decided to move the shoot to your bedroom, imagining that the fictional characters you hope to portray were best captured in this manner. You can only hope that Humbert Humbert would have been proud of your interpretation of his supposed love-nest with his Lolita.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out why you've chosen this as the theme of your personal shoot. The age gap between the two of you is significant enough not to go unnoticed by your friends or the general public. However, unlike the characters of your favorite novel, there is nothing forbidden about your affair.
You do a couple of test shots and configure your lighting and set arrangement accordingly. Once satisfied, you take his glasses, a pipe, and the first edition copy of the novel (a gift from him) that you are currently trying to adapt into photographs. You hand them to him to use as his props. Making sure that he is occupied with these, you decide to finish dressing up, earlier being occupied with his wardrobe over yours.
Parking yourself on the settee opposite him, you begin to put on your stockings, taking your time, not wanting to ruin the flimsy material of the expensive item of clothing. Midway with putting on the other pair, you feel his eyes on boring into your back and you know that he is enjoying the view. Deliberately, you slowly slide the nylon up your calf, running your fingertips pass them and up your thigh after having secured it in place. You can almost see the way he follows your fingers with his eyes and the telling expression on his face that shows how he wished to replace yours with his.
When you turn to look over your shoulder, you feel your breath hitch, and desire pooling between your legs. He has that 'fuck-me' look you are known to be a sucker for. His eyes are narrowed directly at you, their color closer to gray than their usual blue from the lust you share with him. But you do not let on that you're just as turned on as he, and instead flip him a pleased smile as you return your attention back to the task at hand.
He will have what is his in due time after all.
This thought causes you to hasten your movements, desperately wanting to get this done so you could both be satisfied. Shoes in place, you saunter over to his direction, making sure to accentuate the movement of your hips. His tongue darts out from between his lips, as he takes in your complete get-up. He sizes your body beginning from your Mary-Jane adorned feet, up the calves clothed in knee-high socks, taking in the exposed length of your thighs until they disappear under the short fabric of your skirt. You feel your cheeks flush when they settle on your chest, emphasized and flattered the polo shirt you're wearing. After lingering there for a while he finally meets your eyes, appreciation evident in the look he's giving you. He beckons you over with a gesture and you obey.
He places a hand on the inside of your thigh, stroking and tracing circular patterns on your skin. Lightly at first that one would mistake it as unintentional. Later when his fingers tread higher, you know that's he's looking to do something else. Before you can extract his hand away, he pulls you down to sit on his lap. You fight to keep down a moan when you note that he's hard underneath you.
You live to do this to him. Teasing him, turning him on, living out his fantasies, making him come, making him scream your name in bed. You never strived so hard to please a man but with him it became almost like a second nature to you.
All thoughts of the photoshoot are forgotten when he locks an arm around your waist, and a hand threading through your hair as he leans in to kiss you. Immediately, your hands go to unfasten the tie, he just moments ago took time to put on. Your fingers move to undo the bottons on his dress shirt, following the frantic pace of your kiss, wanting to feel his bare skin underneath your palms, breaking apart only to remove the item of clothing. As you do this his hands move up your thighs to rest on your ass, moving you so you're straddling his lap, letting you feel his aroused member.This time, you do not fight the sound that escapes you.
Your hips move on their own accord, grinding against his erection, wanting to elicit the same reaction from him. And you get what you want, his head immediately lolls back, eyes closing in bliss as you continue to work him through several materials of cloth. But this is not enough. You want all of him.
He seems to want the same thing as he pulls you off of him slightly, enabling you to unzip his pants and pull down his boxers, revealing his cock to you. He slips both hands underneath your skirt, eyes locked on yours as he feels the lacey material of your underwear.
"Planning on getting laid later?"
"I was hoping to but you sort of beat me to it..."
He only chuckles as he rips the thin material apart.
"Justin!" You chide him lightly, thinking about the other pieces of lingerie he had ruined over the past few months you've been together. Whatever words you had fro him are lost as his fingers lightly traces your slit, feeling your readiness for him.
"You want me that bad, baby?"
You could only nod in response, finding it hard to focus on anything other than what he's doing to you. His fingers are torturously moving at a slow pace in and out of you, proding and stretching along the way.
"Answer me." He says against your ear, nibbling and nipping at it knowing how it drives you insane, knowing this makes you want to fuck him even more.
You manage to mutter a "yes" that's all it takes for him to guide himself in to you. You sigh at the welcome intrusion, loving the way he fills you, sounding your delight in the way he fills you like only he can. You have barely adjusted to him when he starts to pump furiously into you, causing you lock your arms around him, bring your bodies closer as you compliment his thrusts.
He trails his kisses down your jaw to your neck and you follow this movement with your hands, sliding them down his back, lightly scratching your nails against his flesh as you do. You can feel yourself quickly nearing your peak, his dick hitting that spot every time he fills you completely. His grips tightens on your hips, his pace quickening and hardening and you know he's close too. You tighten your muscles around him, aiding him to reach his orgasm.
You come first, calling out his name, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair. Not too long afterwards, he follows. Neither of you two move even after a while. You both wait out your high out, letting yourselves settle down.
"Light of my life, fire of my loins," he coos at you as he nuzzles his nose against your neck.
Your eyes widen in shock, not quite believing that he quoted your favorite author. You pull away from him slightly, your hand reaching up to hold his face. "You read the book?"
"I read the first page." He confesses, a sheepish grin alighting his face. "Couldn't get pass the first line. But if it creates more moments like these..." He continues, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at you.
You cannot help but laugh at him and his antics, thinking to yourself how he's managed to endear himself more to you now. You start to say something but the words leave you when you notice that he's taken on a more serious expression.
"...My sin..." Your eyes close automatically as he steals a kiss from you, seemingly hypnotized by it. "....my soul..." You are so caught up in this that you hardly notice it when he carries you to the bed and sets you down on it.
"What about the photoshoot?" You ask in between trying to get the clothes off of one another.
"We can do that later. I'm pretty sure Humbert Humbert would want us to pay tribute to him and Lolita in another way."
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: I don't own him, or Lolita, but I wish I did on both counts.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Another drabble for the Prompt Dump set. Was in the works since last week.
Chapter End Notes:
To clarify, Don Juan was actually a one-shot fic in itself, ergo I wrote it with the intention of it stopping where I finished it. When I said that there were two more to go, I meant that I had two other shorts I've written up and wanted to post sometime this week. This story was one of them. However, due to the positive feedback the story received, I've considered expanding said story into a three-part arc.
I'm still working out the details of the two other stories to said arc but most likely I'll post something by next week. As for the last drabble I've been working on, either that comes out before the Killer!Justin update or at the same time. I can't however guarantee the exact date as I'm supposedly concentrating on my senior thesis.
That said, I'd love to hear what you think of this story. Hit me with your comments, suggestions, questions or what-have-you's. o/
Completed
utsukushiijisatsu is the author of 6 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked Lolita also liked 45 other stories.
This story is part of the series, Prompt Dump Drabbles. The previous story in the series is Don Juan. The next story in the series is When We Were Young.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked Lolita also liked 45 other stories.
This story is part of the series, Prompt Dump Drabbles. The previous story in the series is Don Juan. The next story in the series is When We Were Young.
Story Tags: jailbait
