“Looks like my kind of place,” Brad said, trying to ignore the chaos raging inside him.
The hunger was back, maybe stronger than ever, swaying him on his feet and pushing him into a violent lean against the stuccoed side of the strip club.
“Wait,” he told Grayson, using his hand to wave her back to him as the world was swimming.
Grayson’s eyes went wide, possibly from seeing his scraped hand, shredded by the stucco, or more likely, from his sudden hesitation.
“What’s going on Hammer?”
“Nothing,” he said. Then, because he hated lying to Grayson: “Would you believe me if I told you I can feel her?”
Grayson’s eyes went wider, making her rising eyebrows look almost comic.
“She’s in the club. I’m sure of it. But I think it’s better if you don’t come in with me.”
“What are you saying, Hammer?”
He shook his head. “I can’t get into it now. I’ll explain later. But if I can feel her, then she can probably feel me, and that means she might be waiting.” Brad gave Grayson his blue ribbon grin, and added. “Besides, you’re too much of a knockout to go inside. Once the men in Bottoms UP! get a look at you, it’ll draw too much attention to us. I go in alone and no one will be looking at me.”
Grayson smiled back. “Fine, Hammer. I’ll wait. You have 15 minutes, and not a minute longer. And I expect that 17 minutes from now I’ll know everything there is to know. Agreed?”
Brad nodded. “Agreed.”
“I’m serious, Hammer. No funny business. Fifteen minutes is long enough to get some answers. Any longer and I’ll think Willow Monroe has dragged you off somewhere to suck you dry ... and not in the way you’d like.”
“I’m touched that you care,” Hammer said, winking as he opened the door to Bottoms UP!.
XXX
Brad stood just inside strip club entrance, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. There were maybe 20 customers, most bellied up to the bar, a few leaning with their backs to the bar so they could stare at the dancers onstage, one was drunk and passed out on the sticky floor, and two were enjoying a lap dance in the corner shadows.
The strippers wore the usual look found in a dive strip club; used, jaded, tired, emotionally sagging. They all looked like centerfolds to Brad. If Red Breath had put fire in his blood, proximity to Willow was curling the crackle to an inferno. His dizziness increased, and he felt like the only way to get right was to start fucking, right here, right now.
Though the moans should have been barely audible, especially over the boom of the music onstage, Brad could clearly hear the quiet groans coming from the men in the corner as their cocks were rubbed under the asses of the lap dancers.
The thought of a stripper, “bottoms up” on his dick, made Brad’s cock throb.
As if his dick wasn’t dangerously thick enough already, the music changed to Chris Isaac’s “Wicked Game” as Willow took the stage.
Willow’s eyes were burning red, though Brad was pretty sure he was the only one to witness their crimson. He was equally certain she was sizing up the room in search of her next good meal.
At least they’ll die happy. That’s more than most of us get from life.
Brad watched Willow prance across the stage, afraid he might cum in his pants, wondering if it was possible for him to fuck one of the other strippers before “Wicked Game” was finished. He also wondered why in the hell Willow hadn’t noticed him yet. Surely she felt him, unless she was only pretending not to notice.
Brad’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He moved his eyes from Willow to his phone. The caller wasn’t one of his contacts, and the number was blocked. Brad went to a quiet corner to answer, then punched the button and said, “Hammer here.” After a few seconds of silence he added, “Who’s this?”
“Tricky Dick.”
“Who?”
“Tricky Dick,” the caller repeated, louder.
“Nixon?” Brad said sarcastically, “I thought you were dead.”
More silence.
Brad said, “How can I help you, Tricky Dick? I’m in the middle of a few things at the moment, so you’re gonna need to cut this Mysterioso shit short, or I’m gonna hang up.” Brad stared at Willow, holding the phone with his left hand and rubbing his cock with his right. The caller was still silent.
“What do you want?” Brad repeated, as much to the caller as to Willow, though she wasn’t looking in his direction.
“This isn’t about what I want, Agent Hammer. This is about how you and I can help one another.”
“You’ve got 10 seconds,” Hammer said.
There was a long pause. Then, “I want you to find Willow Monroe. After you’ve found her, I want you to bring her to me. Alive.”
Willow had either finally found Brad or decided to acknowledge him. Her Red Breath tinted eyes were bolted onto his. She pouted her full lips, kissing him from across the club.
Brad said, “That’s a lot to ask from a complete stranger, don’t you think? What’s in it for me?”
“Everything, Agent Hammer. If you don’t do exactly as I say, and within the next 48 hours, the entire world will know about that little problem you had taken care of in the hotel room. A certain stain you had removed from the tub, so to speak.” After an excruciatingly long pause, Tricky Dick added, “Would you like that?”
Brad said nothing, not stupid enough to say anything to confirm the caller’s accusations into the phone.
“Then do as I say, and wait for my call.”
FUCK!
The line went dead, just as “Wicked Game’s” final notes faded and Willow walked from the stage. Brad looked at his phone once more before slipping it back in his pocket. Thirteen minutes were up, Grayson would be bolting through the door of Bottoms UP! in another three.
FUCK!
Fuck his raging throbber, and the pain it came with. Brad had to get the fuck from the club.
He took one last look around the room, saw Willow nowhere, then headed toward the door. His hand was on the metal bar, a second from pushing it open to the bright Texas sun and Grayson standing on the other side, when he felt Willow’s hand slip around his waist, fondling his cock.
With her hot breath in his ear, she whispered, “You’re not going to leave without fucking me first, are you Agent Hammer?”
She pulled him back and pressed him up against the wall, and his knees went weak. He wanted her. Now.
His hands found her hips, caressing them, moving up to the small of her back. She pressed into him and they melded so perfectly, it felt as if they’d been made for one another.
“What are you doing to me?” he asked.
She opened her mouth, her green eyes meeting his. Their red glow sparkled as she drifted closer toward his open mouth. Her tongue pushed past his lips and whatever protest they wouldn’t dare utter.
As they kissed, he closed his eyes, feeling something closer to joy than he’d ever felt before. He wanted to be with her forever.
Suddenly, bright light burst through the front door. He turned to see Grayson, eyes wide and gun drawn.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Will Tricky Dick expose Brad’s coverup?
Will Grayson find out Brad has been compromised?
Can Brad find a cure to the infection? Does he want to?
Will Grayson sell her pics of “Agent Ballgag” to the tabloids?
Has Agent Noonan learned that no means no, or will he Grayson have to send a less subtle message than a gun to the crotch?
Will Brad fuck things up so bad he’ll wind up in jail, or worse, working as a Bigfoot fluffer?
FIND OUT WHEN THE XXX FILES CONTINUES WITH EPISODE THREE
CUMMING SOON!
EPISODE THREE: Chapter One – Brad Hammer
Fuck his raging throbber, and the hammer it sent to his head – Brad had to get the fuck from Bottoms UP!.
He took a final look around the room, saw Willow nowhere, then headed toward the door. His hand wa
s on the metal bar, a second from pushing it open to the bright Texas sun and Grayson standing on the other side, when he felt Willow’s hand slip around his waist, fondling his cock.
With her hot breath in his ear, she whispered, “You’re not going to leave without fucking me first, are you Agent Hammer?”
She pulled him back and pressed him up against the wall. His knees went to custard.
He wanted her. Now.
Brad’s hands found her hips and started to caress them, swimming up to the small of her back, his hot fingers splayed into the cool of her flesh. Willow pressed her body against him, melting into him like wax spilling from flame to table.
They were made for one another, and their moans were quiet and in sync as though trying to prove it. He pulled at the back of her hair as she chewed on his bottom lip.
“What are you doing to me?” he breathed.
Willow opened her mouth, her emerald eyes meeting his. Their red glow sparkled as she drifted closer toward his open mouth, her tongue pushing past his lips and whatever protest they wouldn’t dare utter.
As they kissed, Brad closed his eyes, feeling something closer to joy than he’d ever felt before. He wanted to be with Willow forever.
Suddenly, bright light burst through the back door of the club. Brad turned to see Grayson, eyes wide and gun drawn. The tight body that Brad had wanted for years might have been the only thing able to draw his attention from Willow, even if only for a moment.
Grayson inched closer. “Don’t move,” she said, her wide eyes darting between Brad and Willow, dilating somewhere between scared and bewildered.
“Grayson, stand down. I have this under control,” Brad barked, vaguely aware that his dick was pushing hard enough against his pants to have given him a zig-zag tattoo.
“Don’t move,” Grayson ordered again, “either of you.”
Her words stunned Brad. She had to be putting on a show.
Willow’s body tensed against him, and Brad saw a scene flash before his eyes of the two of them tangled together in a hot mess of pungent pussy. He shook his head to rinse his mind from the vision, so he could concentrate on getting Grayson under control and keep her from shooting.
“Grayson, I’m telling you I’ve got this,” he almost growled. “I need you to stand the fuck down.”
Willow suddenly ripped herself from Brad’s embrace and bolted toward Grayson. He braced himself for the certain shot from a shooter who never missed, then stood frozen, staring as Willow and Grayson locked eyes, the agent a sudden, silent prisoner as Willow seemed to almost float toward her. Their eyes never parted as Willow came closer, her red sparkle glowing brighter.
Grayson’s arms slowly lowered, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted. The entire room seemed to pause, as everyone in Bottoms UP! stopped and stared, unsure of what was about to happen.
Willow cocked her head sideways, still staring deep into Grayson’s eyes. She vented a wicked laugh just before Grayson took a long step forward, then wrapped her hand around the back of Willow’s head.
Brad was sure he was just seconds from splitting two pussies in a cat fight. He opened his mouth, but the protest stayed lodged in the back of his throat, turning his plea into a gurgle, more dying dog than man.
His cock continued to throb.
Grayson’s hand drew Willow’s face toward her lips, smashing her mouth into Willow’s and caressing her wet flesh with a series of long, soft kisses, just loud enough to hear above the hush of the strip club, perfectly quiet in the lull between songs. Grayson started down her chest, moving her hand from Willow’s head to her tits. Hard nipples met the heat of her mouth as the both of them moaned.
Brad was more confused than that crossdressing werewolf they caught stalking a peep show booth cleaner guy a few years back.
“Grayson?! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Grayson said nothing. She was too busy moving her hand to the back of Willow’s body and splaying her fingers into a handful of ass. The music stopped playing, the sudden silence now matching the stares in the room. A man at the bar screamed, “FUCK YEAH!” and the strip club fell into a riot.
Men were screaming from every corner of the club, yelling directions to Grayson, bellowing ideas as though she didn’t already have it under control.
“Give her the scissors!”
“Sit on her face!”
“69!”
Soon the entire room was chanting suggestions, as the men gave one another fist bumps and congratulatory slaps on the back for bearing witness to the unbelievable.
A handful of strippers and cocktail waitresses stood on stage and in the corner staring.
Just as Grayson went from tits to mouth, Willow took over, moving a hand down her body. Her hand trickled from one tit to the other, flipping against Grayson’s bullet hard nipples through the silk of her shirt.
Brad could smell them both, a blended scent that had permeated his recent dreams, swirling through the air and driving him batshit with desire. His pounding dick ached to fuck them both, sending him vision after vision of thrusting them to blastoff, filling every available hole with his thick spew, spraying it on the pink of their bodies and watching it drip into a slippery pool on the floor.
Brad cursed the one-eyed snake between his legs, and tried to focus, to form words of some kind, but all he could do was stand, mouth gaping, his pipe hard cock clear to anyone who happened to glance. Not that they could, with every eye in the room far too fixed on Willow and Grayson as they spilled to the floor in a ballet of grinding.
Willow’s hands were working their magic, the flat of her palm rubbing hard against Grayson’s pussy through her dress pants, until a dark spot formed where her dripping slit had soaked through the fabric.
Grayson was writhing under Willow’s touch, moaning and pleading to be fucked. “Someone shove something inside me,” she whimpered. “Pleeeeeeassse…”
Holy fucking shit!
Brad had even imagined this in his dream. His cluttered mind tried to weigh the consequences of approaching the women. He had plenty to shove inside Grayson, and would love nothing more than to fuck his partner and the woman who overpowered his dreams both into a screaming rattle.
Several of the men closest to the pussy pretzel answered her moans, loudly agreeing to fuck the shit out of her once Willow was done. Grayson’s arms flailed everywhere about her, reaching out for the men and fueling Brad to a fury.
He not only wanted to fuck both Grayson and Willow into a coma, Brad wanted to beat the holy shit out of the bystanders. He should leave, break it up, do something, anything, but no matter what he tried, Brad couldn’t force his eyes from their bodies.
Grayson’s hips were bucking toward Willow, begging for climax. Willow slipped her hips between the parted legs beneath her, threw her head back, then slammed her weight against his partner, smashing her body back to the floor.
Grayson panted, screamed, and moaned as Willow ground her hip bones in circles on the sopping material between the musty air around them and the glory hole beneath her.
Brad inched a small step closer just in time to see the color bleeding from Grayson’s body and her movements slowing to a dying shudder.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Brad screamed her name.
XXX
Willow glanced down at Grayson’s motionless body as she stood frozen, towering over his partner as though trying to decide what to do before turning to Brad.
Brad was a statue, staring at Grayson with unbelieving eyes before his gaze slowly went toward Willow’s. The red glow had gone from her eyes. Her face was almost sad.
“What the fuck did you do?” he rasped, one octave above whisper.
“It’s not too late,” she said. “You can save her life, but you have to hurry. Follow me.” Willow picked up Grayson’s half naked body lying in a heap and carried her toward the back, into a private “champagne room” away from the prying eyes of horny onlookers.
Willow laid Grayson on a red leather couch.
“If you killed her, I swear to God...” Brad started.
“You don’t have time for threats, Agent Hammer. Waste time on me and you won’t be able to save her. You’ll lose the chance to bring her back, and she’ll die right there. You save her. I’m leaving.”
“Like fucking hell you are!” Brad yelled, charging toward her in a rage. She thrust her palm in front of her, as though her fingers alone were enough to stop Brad in his tracks. Apparently they were. He stood inches from Willow, breathing heavy, staring at her with a curl in his lip, waiting for her to speak.
Willow was calm. “If you don’t let me leave, you won’t be able save her. You don’t have a choice, Hammer. I have to leave, and you have to let me. The Red Breath is life and it’s swimming inside you. Once I’m out that door, all you have to do is lean down and pass it from your body to hers. She’ll wake up, and her only suffering will be from a slight headache.”
Willow was frail, panting just inches away. Brad figured she was likely weak from the effort it had taken to pull herself from Grayson before she killed her. He wondered if she had done it out of charity, or if she had seen it as her only ticket out the door. For the first time, Brad knew he was stronger than her. Could likely fuck her right into custody. But glancing at the pool of Grayson’s near lifeless body on the couch flooded him with mixed emotions. Like everything else with Willow, it was easy enough to feel the truth.
Grayson’s life depended on him.
Brad’s hard cock continued to throb against the metal from his zipper and his head started to spin. He tried to think of what Grayson would do.
Willow said, “You have five seconds.”
Brad’s gaze returned to Willow. Her emerald eyes held his until he nodded assent, then dropped to his knees beside Grayson.
Willow turned from the agent and slammed her body against the metal bar. The door burst open and flooded the dark room with light. Brad looked up as Willow met his eyes once more. She shook her head, said, “I’m sorry,” then ran into the daylight wearing nothing but her titties as the door slowly closed behind her, severing sunlight and sending the room back into shadows.
The XXX Files Season One (Episodes 1-4) Page 9