OOC: I'll code this later or in the morning, sorry about the lack of a shoot but works been kicking my ass this week. Ive been working without a day off all week, next week is a lot better in terms with work. But I still mustered a rp up, I couldn't see myself no-showing against a legend like Brenton! 
♥ FIGHTING FOR HART: EPISODE 1 ♥
♥ Live or Die ♥
♥ Puerto Rico ♥I haven’t seen my father since Brenton took him for bate at Battle Grounds. The thought of Brenton having my father sent my mind running. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the fallout me and Frank had or if it was because I refused to listen to him when he was trying to warn me about Brenton. I thought I was ready to handle everything this game had to offer, yet here I was sitting in the same shoes my cousin Nick Ridicule sat almost two years ago
I was in the same position my father warned me I would be in
I was put in a hard spot. Brenton was forcing me to chose between the love of my father, and the IWF Championship. My dreams of becoming the youngest and quickest IWF Champion was quickly going up in smoke. Sure my father was a dick for living his family and faking his own death, but in the end of the day he was still me father
I wonder if Nick dealt with these same feelings before selling out his father, my uncle Johnny Styles in NLWF?
My mother Jada has been blowing up my phone ever since Battle Grounds went off the air, and to be honest I wasn’t one to ignore her phone calls, but the last thing I wanted to hear was her telling me she was right. The last thing I wanted to deal with is listing to her tell me how I should have just excepted Frank’s apology.
My mind was already filled with enough regrets, I didn’t need her guilt added on to all of this.
So I decided to get away.
I took off to Puerto Rico for the week, with a girl named Jessica. I meet her when I was running the family for my father. At first, I saw Jess as some sort of booty call, but as the days and drama started building up she became my escape.
I was sure I would be catching a ton of shit from my mother for taking a mini-vacation while my father was held up in god knows where with Brenton. But really, what else could I have done? Brenton is a fucking mastermind at these things, its not like I would have found Frank even if I tried. And sitting at home worrying about his health and safety wouldn’t have done nothing but distract me from the match itself.
I don’t believe anyone has ever won a ‘Live or Die’ match when they were the one fighting for there love one.
A fact I couldn’t afford to have in my mind a week before the epic showdown. So I took off to Puerto Rico with Jessica a day after Battle Grounds aired. It also didn’t hurt that the man who was with my father before he was kidnapped by Brenton was also in Puerto Rico. He was a recent hire by Frank, he was looking to beef up his own protection. As if he knew what was coming.
Maybe he did
A red Ferrari 612 Scaglietti was about to pull out of the darkened parking lot at Rumba Bar in Puerto Rico. A three-hundred-thousand-dollar chick magnet that could do zero to sixty in a little over four seconds.
Two Black motorcycles slowed down.
Jessica was on one, I talked her into helping me find out some kind of information about my father’s where about. U was on the other bike. Both of us were riding out on a balmy night. We paused and checked out the swank ride. Jessica nodded. I did the same. She was a car person, loved fancy cars that paused at the next intersection. Jessica revved her engine, pulled into the parking lot, and stopped next to the Farrari. She wore a black helmet, matching jacket. Tight jeans and biker boots that had high heels. She gave the driver of the Ferrari a hearty thumbs-up.
The driver in the Ferrari smiled at her. Sh motioned for him to roll down his window. She flipped up her face mask
JESSICA‘Que Tal?’DOUCH BAG‘Nada. Como esta?’JESSICA'Bien. Todo bien. Do you speak English?’DOUCHBAGYeah. I speak EnglishJESSICA‘Cool, because my Spanish is horrible. That is one beautiful car. Que lindo coche’DOUCHBAG‘Que culo lindo que tienes. Me preguntabe si me podias montar coma a eas moto’JESSICA‘Whoa, slow your roll. I have no idea what you just said.’DOUCHBAG‘I said you are one beautiful woman, from what I can see’She motioned toward the club
JESSICA‘How is the music in there?’DOUCHBAG‘It’s great, Latin band playin salsa’JESSICA‘Yeah’DOUCHBAG‘You look good on that crotch rocket. Your ass up in the air like that’Jessica paused, tilted her head, pointed at him
JESSICA‘You look familiar’She asked him his name. He told her. She asked if he was a body guard to the sports stars, to former legends.
He said yes
She told him she was a big fan of his work, asked if she could have his autograph. The Douch of a guard told her it was a hot night, said she should take her leather jacket and helmet off so he could see if her face was as pretty as the parts of her he could see
She asked him for his autograph again
He asked her if she had ever fucked someone who protected icons. Jessica laughed and asked him if it was the liquor or if he was always that rude to women. He asked her, again, if she had ever fucked someone who was in charge of important people. She pulled a small circular object out of her jacket. It was a throwback to the old days. When people used to conceal guns. The Douchbag probably thought he was looking at a circular cell phone. Or a compact for a woman’s makeup. It was a palm pistol from the 1800’s, made in France. An assassin’s pistol. Made to be hidden in plain sight.
She raised the circular pistol and put a bullet between his eyes, just like we talked about. I knew he wouldn’t tell us a thing. Brenton was a fucking god, and I was a piss ant in his way. Nothing we did would have made him talk.
Jessica put the assassin’s pistol back inside her pocket
The pop from the palm-sized gun had been covered by the music in the air. Face shield up, Jessic eased out of the lot, zoomed by me, not breaking the speed limit.
JESSICA‘He was an asshole’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘I heard … Thank you’JESSICA‘It was my pleasure, that fucker won’t be fucking anyone elses’ father over any time soon.’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Slow down’JESSICA‘These earpieces are clear. Sounds like you’re inside my helmet’
I followed Jessica, caught up with her, then we coasted side by side.
Before we had made this run, the satellite phone from my mother Jada had rung a dozen times.
But for a day or more, I wanted to try to forget about everything I was going to be forced to throw away just to save my father.
TWO HOURS LATERWe walked out of El Centro Medica de Ri Piedras less than two minutes after we had slipped inside. We hopped on the CBRs we’d parked near the emergency room, sped away. We dumped Jessica’s bike a few blocks away. Jessica parked it and climbed on my CBR, the heat between her legs warming my back as we took to the darkened streets. We dumped my bike a few blocks away from the resort we were staying at. We showered, changed, and headed back downstairs to a lobby that looked like the W on steroids; colorful lights, open space decorated with white leather and rattan furnotire, customers crowed at a bar, international men in linen and women in minimalist dresses. A salsa band played. Everyone danced. We’d squeezed in some shopping earlier. We were in an area that was cousin to Rodeo Drive. I dressed the way he dressed.
Like my father used to dress
I bought Jessica a dress. The dress had one sleeve that was wide and had hints of retro to the design, the other side of the dress was sleeveless. The dress fit like a coat of paint, showed how slim her waist was, and gave the kind of cleavage that made a man dream of being breast-fed three times a day. The dress hugged the curve of her taunt ass and showed miles of legs to die for. Her thighs were powerful without losing her femininity. Her calves were perfect. She was two yards of fabric from being naked. That dress showed what Jessica kept hidden in jeans and a tee. I’d taken her out of her comfort and turned her into a fashionista.
Just like my father did to Jada when they met
It took her an hour to do her hair. She wanted it down, and she wanted it curled like she was going to the Oscars. When she was done I was in awe. Jessica looked like she was ready for the cover of Vogue
I looked at her
♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Fuck’JESSICA ‘Is that a noun or a verb?’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Which do you want it to be?’JESSICAcolor=cyan]‘A noun later’[/color]
As we walked out the door, the phone rang. It had rang a half dozen times
The world was on my mind, but Jessica made me forget all about it.
After three drinks and a handful of salsa dances and enough soft kisses to make my blood flow in a dangerous direction, Jessica was ready to strip down to her birthday suit. But I wouldn’t let her go. We sat outside the pool. They had a sexy lounge area, little cabanas not too far away from the throbbing music and the crowed in tight dresses and linen suits
It looked like it was mating season in Puerto Rico
We shared slow kisses. The dance of spirited tongues. Tongue chasing tongue. The slow tasting. Tasting was more intimate than anything else. Slow kisses caused a fire to grow. And spread. Moans that started off soft became desperate. Gradual loss of control. The heat that gripped us in its sweet claws. Then the moans came from a place deep inside
We were normal. With every ragged breath we became more normal
Not killers, Not Mobsters, not wrestlers. Each kiss pulled us away from the gritty world. Made us normal folks. Made us red hot-lovers. Teens on prom night. Made me want all the normal things I’d never had growing up as Frank Hart’s son
I kissed Jessica and felt her up. Sucked on her ear. Rubbed between her legs.
She moaned and laughed a sweet laugh
JESSICA‘Oh, my god, Robbie’
♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘What’s the problem Jess?’JESSICA‘You’re getting me so hot’I kissed her, then sucked her neck and rubbed her breasts. The sounds of the party were in the air. Other couples were poolside cabanas sitting on recliners
Her hand went inside my pants. Jessica scooted down, took me inside her mouth, sucked me. I ran my fingers though her hair. Let her have her way. Closed my eyes and breathed in the salty ocean. The sounds of the waves crashing into the shore
Every problem vanished
When Jessica was done, I pulled her to me, kissed her again. Jessica led me back to the suite, lights dimmed, windows open to the ocean, made me sit in the white leather chair while she danced like a senorita and sashayed toward me, sexy and classy, playful and giggling, taking off her jewelry, undressing and moving her body with the same confidence and rhythm Charlize Theron had in that J’adore Dior commercial
Jessica leaned in, rubbed her breasts against my face, made my tongue chase her nipples. She did that over and over until I grabbed her waist and pulled her to me.
The phone rang again
Jessica paused, but I told her not to stop. I was more concerned with the other phone. Jessica took to her knees, laughed and smiled and made naughty and playful noises as she took me inside her mouth. Then she made me feel so good I had to close my eyes
JESSICA‘My face is going to hurt tomorrow’I touched her hair
♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Why?’JESSICA‘Blow jobs make my face hurt’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Didn’t know that’JESSICA‘Glad you didn’t. Really glad you didn’t’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Irrumatio makes a face hurt’JESSICA‘Especially when a woman is sucking on an exorbitant chunk of meat’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Exorbitant’JESSICA ‘What you have exceeds the customary limits in intensity, quality, amount and size. You are one blessed man. A nice-looking, exorbitant mesomorph with a devil of a sin dick’♥ ROBBIE HART ♥‘Your tipsy’JESSICA‘No, I’m drunk. And I’d advice you to take advantage of this moment. You might get a chance to do some things to me that many perverts have asked to do, and all have been denied’ I put Jessica against the wall, near the window, the ocean roaring seven stories down
The Phone rang again
I stayed behind her, dipped to get a good angel, had her breasts flat against the wall, my thrusting deep and steady. Jessica took her right foot, wrapped it back around me, then did the same with her left. I held her up. She craned her neck, reached for my face, kissed me. We lost the connection and I turned her around. Pushed her back against the wall and she hurried me back inside her as fast as she could. I went in with power. Made her gasp. I put my hands under her ass, lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around me again
I was on fire
Jessica was blazing
I pulled her knees up, put her on my shoulders. Jessica wrapped her arms around my neck and held on, all she could do was hold on while I bounced her up and down as hard as I could. Skin slapped against skin. It felt good.
Damn good
Didn’t care about a phone or even my showdown with Brenton
I just cared about the orgasm that has a grip on me, a stubborn orgasm had put its claws in me, had filled me with fire. I moved Jessica into different positions, pleased her from different angles, desperate angles, skin slapping hard, each time like a brand new massage
She hed my neck tight and buried her head in my shoulder, sucked my neck, bit my neck to muffle her moans. Jessica her breath and took what I gave, then exhaled hard and loud, made sounds like she was in pain. I moaned and carried her like that. Walked her to the bed. Put her down. The ball of fire inside me had taken control. It led me, made me wild, dragged me toward urgency. Moved me hard and fast, Jessica nails sank into my back
The phone rang again
I picked Jessica up, flipped her upside down, put her legs around my neck, held her by her waist, brought her dampness to my tongue, gripped her while her moans rose and her hair dropped and covered my toes. One by one, her high heels dropped from her feet. She masturbated me, took me deep inside her mouth, did that while I put my tongue inside her as deep as I could
The phone rang again
And rang
And rang
I was In heaven, and the rush of emotions of my father possibly dying hit me, and my match against Brenton once again haunted me…
Subject: FIGHTING FOR HART 
Sat Oct 22, 2011 10:24 pm
