Chapter 143: Chapter 143
Chapter 143
~Rodriguez is really in love~
Rodriguez’s lips tightened. “Holy cow!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing, uh? What is wrong with you?” he asked without hesitation
Before he could make to her, she ripped the remnant that barely covered a part of her navel down to her vagina lips, and Jacy was literally naked before everyone.
“Oh my world!” onlookers exclaimed amidst chortling and chuckling while a few wowed at her nakedness, others yelled, “Show us your pussy, light skin bitch!”
“Oh my goose! What the hell are you doing?” he asked confusedly, stroking his hair and clouded with indecision.
Without considering the intent of what she was doing, Rodriquez hummed, tore his shirt, grabbed her torn shirt, knotted edges together to form a canopy of ugly fabrics, and quickly lay her on the sofa. Grunting something wordless, he wound the improvised cloth round her waist, at least only her big breasts and a cheek of her round buttocks were baring now. He had not carried anyone weightier; just mere lifting of her hand confirmed to Rodriguez that she was on the weighty side.
“Come on let her be. Let’s see the dirty pussy,” onlookers clamored, amidst mockery, while a few rushed to have a feel of her hot thighs and buttocks.
With no words for the onlookers, Rodriguez grinned at Jacy who was murmuring and blabbing in mumbles; very weak that she could barely raise a finger. Carrying her handbag, he lifted her on his broad shoulders, swirled around and was ready to push his way through the crowd of dancers and alcoholic. He would have to render any help possible because if he should throw caution to the window and go his way with taking Jacy along, he wondered what would become of her.
“Asshole let her be. We got to see that pussy!” a few onlookers jibed at him.
A stripper approached them, and came in the way of Rodriguez. “Let her go while I give you, a head, cutie,” the stripper demanded, stroking her vanished longer fingernails across the beefy hairy chest and six-pack of Rodriguez and rolling her tongue across her lips. And about bringing her kind gesture to his zipper which bulged with his penis and balls he cursed her.
“Out of my way, bitch. You won’t like me if I come at you,” he jeered, rolled his eyes at her, and breathed uneasily under the weight of Jacy who was busy grabbling across his shoulders.
The stripper cat-walked, winking at him, sliding the finger she used in stroking him into her red-glossed lips.
“Cute man, cute dick,” she finally taunted and gave way, with her focus still on him.
Not ready to give up on the pounds of Jacy that ached his neck, he started making out of the club galleria. On his way out a few onlookers cursed and tried to touch Jacy’s big breasts that hung freely from his shoulders but he threatened them with his snare.
“Go fuck your momma!” he gave one final curse before breathing a fresh air into his loins as the cool breeze of the night swept across his face once he came outside.
In a flash, a taxi, halted at his spot, and he opened the back door and lay Jacy first before hopping in and cast one final stare at Adam and Eve night club.
“Stewart hotel,” Rodriguez addressed the driver before peering across his shoulder to Jacy and just realized that she had her head on the other edge while her legs stretched to his laps, thereby giving any careless onlooker the grace to have a full view of her neatly well shaven vagina lips. He snorted, winked, rolled his eyes, wishing he could cover the red lips of a vagina without having to glare at it as though it was his right. He noticed a ripped portion of the improvised cloth he wound right around her body was responsible for the display. He dug into his jean pocket to get a bandana, which he tore with a single snap.
“Hope all is well sir,” the considerate, elderly driver inquired, staring at Rodriguez in the mirror.
“Keep driving,” he beamed at the driver and regretted replying anyways.
He was tired and sucked from talking. Action was his watch word now. The drama that Jacy displayed was going to cost him much now and later; he just thought. First of everything was happening in his life since he met her; the first time he boldly beheld the nakedness of a woman without being forced to do it; first time he was lending help to someone he was not too sure of could do same thing for him if he were the victim; first time he was feeling a thing for a total stranger that might break his heart tomorrow; the first time he was fragile and weak for love like a sheep. Rod; the most dreaded Rod of Mexico, whose audacity a few men could stand had never considered falling in love. And right now a woman was cutting his wings and redomesticating him like a pet. He hummed, nagged at the belief that love might cost him his sanity if he wasn’t careful to apply the necessary strategy. He never cared if Jacy would end up rejecting his feelings for her and run into the arms of another man; he just believed he was fulfilling destiny. Yes. He had been destined to flee from Mexico for the sake of avoiding Salsa and run into the heart of Jacy.
“Stewart Hotel, sir.”
He only realized they had arrived when the driver made that comment. He glared at Jacy and she was snoring already. He fondled into his pocket pulled out a wad of dollars and paid the driver. About opening the door to continue his help, Jacy’s phone buzzed with a ringing tone. Someone was calling, when he looked at the phone which was in her hand bag. On the screen was displayed:
Ken My Heart calling…
Angry, he read meaning into it and turned off the call…