My Lolita, Cassandra [RFK/Bobby Kennedy] (Alternate Universe)

Part Eight

"Runaways"

You didn't know how you reached heaven without waking Diane with your moaning but that's a story for another day — Robert's skill with his mouth reveals a whole different side to him that you never expected.

"Fuck..." Wide-eyed in amazement, you can't think of another word to say — the ceiling of the room is heavily scrutinized by you. The man's energy seemed to recharge after he satisfied you. "Are you ready for more?" Robert smirks before he proceeds to take his grey brief off. You try to chuckle but your breathlessness gets in the way, you can only mutter, "You're insane." Robert begins to please you when he strokes your entrance with his erection and starts experimenting with your body.

"How ironic," Robert mutters out of the blue, the two of you had been quiet after the sinful intercourse. "What is?" You lay your head on his fuzzy chest, and his arms instinctively wrap themselves around you. "I always thought this whole thing would start with you giving me a blowjob." The man snickers to himself; it sounds far vulgar than he intended. "You've been watching too much porn." You roll your eyes, thinking how he probably uses the computer in his study to jerk off. "Hey, you're not supposed to know what porn is!" Robert tightens his warm grip on your body, and as much as you want to retort, he has you in stitches.

"If you want a blowjob, just say it." You slide your hand down, but before you can please him, he snatches your hand away. "No, no, I don't think I can anymore tonight." Robert replaces your limb on his stomach. "Well, that's disappointing!" You exclaim before chuckling, making sure he knows you're only joking. "Oh, you're bratty tonight," Robert turns his head to face you, that smirk of his is contradicting his previous statement. "Only because you like it." Your hand glides across his body for a hug. Robert's gentle strokes on your hair give you a sense of security, and for some reason, you can't help but think about Humbert.

"Thanks for being gentle with me," You said with your eyes shut. Questions begin rushing in your head, one of them being how you let Robert, a man you just met, make love to you so easily when Humbert, your previous lover, had tried to do the same to you but without success. Robert doesn't respond to your response immediately, he hesitates for a second before muttering, "I don't think a thank is necessary." His cheeks are tinted pink, embarrassed. The 40-year-old can't seem to fathom why a girl as young as you would even look in his direction. "Sorry, old habits." You recall how your blue-eyed Humbert always reminded you to say your gratitude when he did you a favor.

Once your blood pressure has subsided, you don't wait for another second to quickly rationalize the situation. "I should probably go back to Diane's room," you say with a guilty mind. Robert nods, "Go. Before you fall asleep in my arms." He releases you from his grips, but you irresistibly hold onto him. "Mmh, I do like nestling in your hairy arms, though," You whine childishly, giving Robert something to laugh at. "I assume you like them?" He asks curiously. "Of course, I do!" You hoist your head to have your eyes meeting his baby blues. "I like you." There's a slight delay in your sentences; it doesn't seem right to utter the words to your friend's father.

Robert shifts his body so he can sit up with his back against the padded bedstead. "You don't love me?" The man cocks his head, the same sinister smirk you love appears again. His question sends you into a crisis, how does one answer that? "I..." You nervously sit up to face him but fall speechless before you can muster up the courage to respond. Robert snickers, "I'm only kidding." His hand caresses your dewy cheek. Your anxiety gradually dies down, almost having you sighed in relief.

"What about you?" Turning the table, you ask him the same thing — only bolder. "What?" Robert furrows his brows. You clear your throat, "Do you like me, at least?" The words spill out of your mouth like running water. Robert draws his gaze away, laying them on the colossal moon that's levitating behind the bedroom window. "You mystify me sometimes," He thoughtfully says, "But I'd be lying if I say I'm not infatuated with you." Somehow, infatuation's a dirty noun for you; it's something men use to describe their feelings for their mistress on the side.