“You guys wouldn’t know of a place to get a room close by would you? I’m traveling through and I don’t think that tequila agreed with me,” Willow said, slowly regaining her balance.
“Sure doll. You like to party?” Small Fry winked at Super Size. “We’ve got a room rented just down the road. Two beds so you could have your own. One of us will take the floor, right Stan?”
“Yeah buddy, I’ll take the floor so the lady can have some place to crash,” he smiled into his drink as he swallowed.
“Oh, that would be amazing… just whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready. How bout you?” Small Fry turned to Stan.
“Whenever you are bud,” Stan said, standing.
They left the bar together, piling into Stan’s Jeep. They sped, faster than necessary, racing to their hotel. Small Fry got out first, then offered his hand to Willow. She stepped out of the jeep on her own, making it a point to stumble, quickly catching herself before spilling to the concrete.
Small Fry turned toward Willow as they stepped inside the room, sneering at her, same as he’d sneered at the girl in his memory.
Willow couldn’t wait to kill him.
She stared into his eyes, smiling, fixing her glowing crimson eyes on for a full minute until his head was swaying and his face glazed, then she turned to Super Size and issued the same order. Once she had them both drooling over the images she was putting in their heads – cumming on her face, slapping her tits, and fucking her ass – they lunged at her in unison.
Willow quickly side-stepped the duo, and let their drunken reflexes send them into an idiot collision. She giggled, then sat on the bed, patting both sides. They sat beside her and started stripping her clothes, slow at first, but when her tits popped out, Small Fry grabbed a nipple with his teeth while Super Size tore at the rest of her clothing, leaving it in a heap on the floor.
Willow let them to ravage her body for a few minutes, her pussy sopping and aching for a cock. She swallowed Small Fry in her mouth, holding her ass in the air so Super Size could work on her pussy. He shoved four fingers inside her so hard she jumped, scraping her teeth down the smaller one’s dick.
“Man, don’t do that shit when she has my cock in her mouth!” Small Fry screamed.
“Yeah, yeah,” Super Size said, digging his fingers deeper in and out of her dripping hole. He got four good strokes in before Willow started squirting juices all over the front of his shirt and jeans. Apparently that was enough. He puddled his jeans at the ankle, then she moved her mouth from Small Fry’s dick.
Willow moved to his cock with her mouth, drawing the life from inside him more with every stroke. His face went pale and Willow thought she may have gone too far, but color returned as she removed her lips.
She glided over to the smaller one and started to ride him, hard. Large pools of her cum soaked slowly into the cheesy flowered bedspread.
Willow smiled as every cell of life flooded from his body and into hers as she rode his hard dick limp, then turned her head to Super Size, watching from behind.
“Fuck my ass,” she said, panting.
An eager smile spread across his broad jaw. He took Willow’s hips in his hands, then shoved his dick in her ass, licking her back as he entered. She shuddered, pulling his life through his dick and into her.
Willow turned around, just in time to see his face smash into the nightstand as he fell onto the floor.
XXX
Chapter Five – Brad Hammer
“HAMMER!! WAKE UP!”
Brad shot up from the mattress, gun out and pointing straight at the front of his partner’s head. “Damn it Grayson! You scared the living shit out of me!”
Grayson laughed. “We were supposed to meet 15 minutes ago, asshole. Get out of bed.”
She left the room, and Brad got dressed, throwing fresh clothes into his go-bag. He ran to the bathroom, nearly slipping on a wet spot then spit out a string full of curses as he splashed some water on his face, noticing that for the first time in days he wasn’t rock hard just because he was breathing.
Brad took a quick piss, then left the house, locked the door behind him, and slid into the Lincoln as Courtney was putting the car into reverse. “No phone call or anything? Just show up at my house and use the spare to get in huh?” he said.
“We have a lead on Willow,” she said, backing out from Brad’s driveway. “Source says she’s in Louisiana. It’s gonna be late already when we get in.”
“Where in Louisiana?”
“She was spotted leaving some trashy bar in Shreveport.”
Brad sighed. If Willow had gone to a bar, there were victims somewhere.
They rode mostly in silence as Brad turned the problem of Tricky Dick in his mind. He’d said 48 hours, and for the first half Brad had barely given the threat a second thought. Now it was parked permanently in the back of his mind.
“Why don’t we start fresh in the morning?” Brad said, faking a yawn “We could both use a good night’s sleep before we get going again.”
Courtney bit. “Okay, I could use some real sleep. But you have to promise me you’ll get up at a decent hour. I’m sick of playing mommy.”
They agreed to meet at the car at 8:00am, then booked separate rooms and said goodnight.
XXX
Brad paced the motel room for a full hour and a half before he was finally convinced Grayson was asleep, then he left his room and headed for the Lincoln. Though Grayson usually drove, it felt great to get behind the wheel.
He started the car, then drove to the window where a boy no older than 18 was sitting, feet propped on the desk, texting. The kid glanced at the window, saw Brad, looked annoyed, but walked over anyway. Hammer asked him for the names of some local bars. There were only two nearby, both just outside the city limits. The kid gave Brad both names, then turned back in a hurry to return to his texting. Brad peeled from the parking lot.
The first bar was in the bottom level of an apartment building. Separate exits for the apartments and bar made Brad look like an idiot as he pulled on the wrong door. A resident came by, looked at Brad like he needed a drool bucket, and told him he was probably looking for the door on the other side.
The bar was a bust. Brad asked each barkeep if they’d seen anyone matching Willow’s description. None had, and Brad was sure every one of them would have remembered if they had. Of course he also asked the patrons at the bar. None could remember her being there either, though most were falling from their stools, and unlike the bartenders, Brad figured they probably couldn’t even remember their own names.
He drove to the second and final bar on his list. The rage was starting to return to his cock as he entered the swinging doors and headed straight for the bar. The bartender said that yeah sure, he remembered a girl matching Brad’s description, leaving with two men about an hour after she arrived. Bartender said she didn’t look too steady, even though she’d only thrown back a couple of shots.
“Do you know where they might have gone?” Brad asked.
“They were definitely from out of town,” his southern drawl was a little soused, and slightly hard to follow. “I figure they’re likely staying at the hotel ‘bout a half mile down the road, but there ain’t no way to know for sure.”
Brad thanked him and left, heading straight for the hotel, pulling beside a Jeep parked just outside a cracked-open door. He stepped from the Lincoln and a familiar scent seared his nostrils. Brad drew his gun and entered the room.
The pair of dead bodies meant he was alone, but he crept through the room, gun in front just to make sure. After making sure it was empty, Brad studied the two men – one with his face smashed in what looked like a nasty fall, and the other with a fuck smile still frozen on his face.
Brad cursed his throbbing cock as Willow’s sweet scent saturated the air. He started sifting through the room, looking for any clue as to where she might have gone next. He looked under the bed, trying to sort out what he would do when he found her
.
Should he call Grayson and let her take Willow in before he resigned? Or kill her, then deliver her to Tricky Dick? Who was he anyway, and was he serious about his threats?
Questions bounced through Brad’s brain as he continued to turn over a big fat nothing in the motel room, wishing Willow was slightly more careless. His dick started throbbing as he drew in a deep breath of the air that was driving him crazy.
He left the room, then hopped in the car and headed back toward his own motel, chewing on the countless questions crashing through his mind and trying to ignore the aching tent in his pants. Hammer had friends all over, so it was only seven digits before he was asking his friend Willie Blue for a service in Shreveport where he could call out for a $100 fuck. He stopped by a liquor store just as it was closing to grab a bottle of cheap tequila.
Brad lay in bed, waiting for the girl, mulling the many questions in his mind and sipping straight from the bottle. Sure, he’d have a headache, but the tequila put his throbbing at less of a thrum, and pulled the dull ache from the endless unanswered questions.
His rented pussy knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he yelled.
His girl was tall, brunette, and would have been pretty if her profession hadn’t beat her to shit. Brad offered her a drink, but she shook her head no, and sat at the edge of the bed. She spoke little English, or at least pretended not to, so she wouldn't have to talk.
Brad watched her get up from the bed, then quickly undress and approach him with a swaying body. She slowly unzipped his pants, then slid them down past his ankles. Her hand went up the leg of his boxers, trying to keep a straight face as she felt the length and width of his throbbing cock. Brad kicked his pants to the corner, then peeled off his shirt and fell back on the bed.
The woman used her tongue like a starving demon, sliding up and down the full length of his cock and tapping the back of her throat. Brad reached down and put a hand on the back of her head, holding her down until she gagged. He groaned, then she moved her head up and down, faster and faster until he suddenly exploded with a furious spray in her mouth.
She managed to swallow the first gob, but failed on the second, third and fourth, as each one slapped her on the face, painting her face with a Pollack of goo.
She squealed with excitement, smearing the white spew from her face to her hand, before licking it off. Brad threw her to the bed, then held her down as his hands explored her unfamiliar body. Her tits sagged a bit, but he was far too drunk to care. The girl moaned and twisted beneath him as he kneaded a nipple with one hand and rubbed her to sopping with the other.
Brad slammed his giant throbbing cock inside her in one swift motion. She gasped, then screamed. Even as much as she fucked, he still filled every inch of her inner walls. He pumped into her five times before she screamed and convulsed with the pleasure of release, then pulled his dick from inside her, flipped her over, and shoved her face into the bed as he took her from behind.
He thought of the tangled bodies of Grayson and Willow twisted together in the strip club, then released, pulsing time after time inside the girl, moaning Willow’s name as he shot another bucket of cum inside her before collapsing onto the bed beside the girl.
He told the girl she could shower. She did without another word, then she left. Brad locked the door, collapsed on top of the covers, closed his eyes and drifted into a drunken sleep.
XXX
The buzzing phone lifted some of the fog from his head, but sharpened the stabbing pain coming from the sunlight drizzling through the sheer curtains. Brad looked at his watch.
8:30am.
Damn it.
Grayson was going to rip his ass for being late. Without even looking, he answered the phone.
“I’m on my way Grayson, I swear. I overslept. Give me 5 minutes.”
“Oh Agent Grayson isn’t waiting on you,” came a chuckle over the phone, “she’s with me. I wouldn't say she’s safe. But I will say she’s alive … for now.”
Brad listened to Tricky Dick breathe, swearing to himself he was speaking to a dead man.
TO BE CONTINUED…
EPISODE FOUR: Chapter One — Brad Hammer
Brad’s buzzing phone murdered the end of his dream, and had him blinking his eyes from the sunlight bleeding through the gauzy curtains.
He looked at his watch: 8:30am.
Damn it.
Grayson was going to rip his ass to shredded wheat for being late. Without even looking at the glass, Brad answered. “I’m on my way Grayson, I swear. I overslept. Give me 5 minutes.”
“Oh, Agent Grayson isn’t waiting on you,” came a chuckle over the phone, “she’s with me. I wouldn't say she’s safe. But I will say she’s alive … for now.”
He listened to Tricky Dick breathing, swearing to himself that whether it was today or tomorrow, Brad was talking to a dead man.
“You realize now I’ve no choice but to kill you, right?” Brad growled into the phone.
Tricky Dick laughed, then calmly said. “I don’t disagree that one of us will be dead if things don’t go according to plan, but that person won’t be me.” He gave Brad a few seconds to speak, and when he didn’t, Tricky Dick continued.
“Your next move is simple, Agent Hammer. And non-negotiable. You will go to Grayson’s room where you will find a small black case with a combination lock. The combination is 6969, I thought you’d like that.” Brad could almost hear the asshole smiling.” Inside the black case you’ll find an M4 dart gun. You will use this gun to anesthetize Willow.”
Tricky Dick cleared his throat. “Clear so far?”
Brad gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
“Good,” Tricky Dick continued. “The darts have a special elixir designed to neutralize the psychological and physical effects of Red Breath. One shot from the M4 will buy you five hours. Once you find her, text OK to this number and I will give you a rendezvous location.”
“What if I can’t find her?”
“Then I hope you know an excellent florist who can make a beautiful spray for the top of Agent Grayson’s closed casket.”
The line went dead.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Brad was boiling, not sure whether he was angrier that Grayson had been nabbed, or the demands of having to find Willow and bring her to tricky Dick. Or maybe it was that his fat cock was thick with blood, and like every other morning that week, it would be hard, if not altogether impossible, to chew the day without getting someone to swallow him first.
Brad turned on the shower, stepped under the hot water, and soaked his hair and face while scrubbing his body. It only took him a minute to win his battle with the purple headed yogurt slinger as the hot water slapped his back in pleasant needles and globs of white lava erupted from his cock and splattered the glass.
Brad finished cleaning himself but was still painfully erect. He turned the water to freezing, hoping that would help. It didn’t. He turned off the water, stepped from the shower, quickly dressed, then tucked his cock – pointing straight at the ceiling – into his pants.
Time to hunt.
Brad left the crappy hotel, climbed into the Lincoln, then drove for four miles before swinging into the parking lot of Java the Hut. He killed the engine, then walked into the coffee shop, cock throbbing.
The coffee shop was teeming with too many sounds, giving a pound to his head that matched the pulse of his cock. He scanned the room on his way to the counter, looking for something he could quickly fuck into a sloppy mess.
The barista was adorable, with full lips and a set of tits that were too perfect to last too long past her 20th birthday or so, which it looked like she was just at or barely over. But despite his Red Breath fueled charm, the odds of getting her away from the counter unnoticed were small if not altogether nonexistent. Brad would be better off with the hot goth chick sprawled into an overstuffed cushion about 15 feet away.
Brad ordered his coffee black, then felt a strong shudder in the fat of his shaf
t when the adorable barista with the full lips and perfect tits asked if he’d like room for cream.
I bet your ass has room for cream.
Brad thanked the girl, grabbed his coffee, left a two dollar tip, then turned toward the goth girl. She looked like she was in her mid-20’s, with jet black hair. Her face was a small circle, though it looked wider than it was above an ironing board body which flawlessly displayed her tight tits and fat nipples pressing hard against the thin cotton of her tee, which read: “COME TO THE DARK SIDE (WE HAVE COOKIES!)”
Brad stood three feet from the goth girl as she blew the steam from her cup. He imagined her shirt pulled to the top of her tits, getting sprayed with warm globs of his fresh cum. Lord knew he had fucking gallons.
“Hey,” he said, looking the goth girl up and down.
She set her book face down on the small end table beside her then looked up at Brad, almost as though she had been expecting him. “I was hoping you were going to talk to me,” she said. “From the second you walked in. I was disappointed when you passed me on your way to the counter.”
Brad was surprised. “You saw me looking at you?”
She laughed. “No, I saw you looking at everyone. But I did notice you take longer on me.” She laughed, then gestured toward Brad’s massive throbber, bulging from behind his fly. “But I figure you had that before you came in, so I can’t be held responsible.”
Brad was too hungry to care about being embarrassed. He dropped to his knees and leaned toward the girl. “You can slap me if you’d like,” he whispered. “I’d sure as hell deserve it. But if you follow me into the bathroom, I promise to use every one of my twelve throbbing inches to fuck you into the best orgasm of your life.”
Brad waited for the slap. He wasn’t sure how much was the girl herself and how much was the Red Breath, but she leaned closer, ran her hand along the length of Brad’s imprisoned cock, then purred. “I can’t wait. My pussy’s hot enough to bake cookies, and wet enough to turn them to mush.”
The XXX Files Season One (Episodes 1-4) Page 12