The XXX Files Season Two (Episodes 5-8)

by Maxxwell, Lexi

  For my eyes only? Who in the hell even knows I’m in Florida?

  “OK,” Brad said. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  He hung up the phone just as Courtney barked out a shockingly loud snore — just long, broken and cracked enough to send him into a laugh. His girl was OUT.

  Brad pulled on his pants and, still hard, pulled his dick up and tucked it into the top behind his waistband, then pulled on his undershirt, slipped on his shoes without any socks, grabbed his key card, and headed out of the room and over to the elevator.

  He rode down to the lobby, his hard-on keeping him uncomfortable, then crossed the lobby floor to the front desk. He spotted Regina, and was thankful she only looked about 15 percent as sexy as she sounded since he really couldn’t take any more morning throbbing, and wouldn’t want to obligate Courtney to anything when she was just waking up and they had a plane to catch.

  “Hi, Regina,” Brad said as he approached the counter. “I’m Brad Hammer. You just called?”

  “Of course, Mr. Hammer,” she said, then turned, grabbed an envelope from behind her, and handed it to Brad.

  He smiled, said thanks, then tore into the envelope and pulled out the note. It said, “Room 212. Come alone.”

  What the fuck?

  Brad’s heart sped to racing as he nearly sprinted toward the elevator, then stepped inside and rode the box to the second floor.

  At least my dick isn’t killing me.

  Brad had lost his hard-on, and couldn’t be happier since the last thing he wanted was to be sporting a raging erection when he had to deal with whatever was waiting in Room 212.

  He stood outside, paused , wondering if he should go upstairs, wake Courtney, and bring her back down to the second floor with him. He swallowed, then softly rapped his knuckles on the door instead.

  The door parted to something Brad had thought of nearly every hour of every day for a year.

  Willow Monroe stood in the doorway looking like the goddess she was. “Hello, Brad.”

  His hard-on was back, and throbbing.

  TO BE CONTINUED ...

  EPISODE 7

  CHAPTER 1 — Brad Hammer

  Brad stared at Willow, trying to swallow his shock, and having about as much luck as he was in keeping the blood from thickening his dick. It grew fatter and fatter, thickening alongside his confusion.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Willow didn’t answer, just stared at Brad instead, standing in the doorway looking like the living, breathing fantasy she was. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders, slightly longer than when last he saw her, her skin still creamy porcelain and bright eyes still burning with lust. Her tits were as round and plump and perfect as Brad remembered, pushing up against her gauzy thin top, displaying her matching bullet nipples as they nuzzled up against the fabric.

  Willow wore a thin blouse and a short, flowing skirt, but she may as well have been wearing trashy lingerie. She could have been wearing nothing at all. Brad’s hard-on had gone from throbbing to painful in seconds. It was pushing so hard against his pants it was almost like an arrow pointing at Willow. It was impossible for her not to see it, though, of course, even if she couldn’t, she had to know it was there. They were both prisoners of the Breath, too in tune with one another for each not to smell the other’s arousal.

  Brad closed his eyes to escape the vision before him, but his world turned worse behind the black of his lids, where he suffered the slings and arrows of his filthiest thoughts, flying at him, one after the other, demanding that he do something about it, rather than simply swaying on his feet like a leaf in the wind.

  He tried pushing the thoughts from his mind, to bury them as deeply as they would go so he could butter his brain with thoughts of Courtney instead. But it was futile. In his mind, Willow laughed, and turned Courtney to a crumble of thought that disappeared in the winds of a stronger desire.

  Still in his mind, Brad saw Willow on her knees, eagerly swallowing his cock as her full lips slid along the length, humming as she went. Then he saw her crawling across the hotel carpet on her knees, lifting her ass high in the air so he could see both of her open, exposed holes. He saw her climb up and into an overstuffed chair in the corner, splaying a single leg on either side then digging into the wet depths of her middle, glazing fingers with her juices, then sucking each of her digits in turn before curling her pointer toward him, and inviting Brad to bury his face where it mattered.

  He opened his eyes hoping to escape the beautiful filth. Willow was standing three feet away, breathing heavy and looking beautiful. He could smell her cunt and practically feel it wrapping his cock and then tightening around it. Brad swallowed, believing he had the strength to resist her. He didn’t want to flirt or smile or do anything but figure out what in the fuck she was doing in Florida, and what in the hell she wanted with him, then getting back up to Courtney before he did something he might regret.

  Who cares about the plane — Courtney will fuck me like I need.

  Though Willow was silent out loud, she spoke in her head, in a magical whisper like always.

  It’s OK, Brad, don’t you know we’re meant for each other.?

  Brad didn’t know if it was really Willow or only an echo of his imagination. Either way, the voice was convincing.

  You can take me now, you know. I’m yours. Once you claim me you can do whatever you want.

  Her breath blew heavy in his mind ...

  I think about you every day, Brad Hammer, just like you think about me. There’s no use pretending you don’t.

  Brad took a giant step back, wanting to make it to the other side of the threshold, where he was sure he would find his power, shoving thoughts of Willow to the back of his mind along the way, and pulling images of Courtney to the front, replacing Willow with Courtney on her knees, wrapping her lips tightly around his tip as he blasted, flooding her gullet with cum.

  Brad remembered the reality of their previous evening, when Courtney did crawl across the carpet on her knees, lifting her ass high in the air so Brad could see both of her open, exposed holes before she said, “You’ve had my cunt, Agent Hammer, now are you going to fuck my ass?”

  Finally and most important of all, Brad imagined Courtney, his one, true love rather than the one, true lust of Willow Monroe, lying beside him in bed as they slept together in harmony.

  I can’t risk this.

  “I can’t,” Brad said, shaking his head as he took another step back, now just inches from the door.

  “Relax,” Willow half-laughed, even though he could smell how much she wanted him to fuck her. “I’m not here to steal you from your lover girl. I’m here to help you. I’ve got a tip and know why your investigation’s been shut down.”

  “Which investigation?” Brad said, trying not to stutter through his confusion, but wondering how Willow could know anything about his investigations, let alone have sources inside Division 69. “I thought you were underground, you know, deep in hiding, avoiding contact with everyone you know.”

  “I said I’d leave you alone, Brad. But that doesn’t mean I’m finished with Helix. Those fuckers turned me into this. And they’re gonna pay.”

  “So what does this have to do with me? Why are you here in my hotel?”

  “Because,” she smiled like a siren. “The old folks’ home you were working, the case that got yanked from under your feet, well, that order to ditch the evidence you found in Shady Palms came from above. Above your boss, and above his. This directive comes all the way from the top.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about, Willow?” Brad asked, forgetting the door behind him.

  “The ‘On Golden Pond’ orgy — that was no accident.”

  “How could you possibly know that? Isn’t it more likely you saw the video on YouTube like a million other assholes, figured that was a case for Division 69, and that you might be able to find me here?”

  “Maybe,” Willow said. “But NO. If I want to find you, Brad Hammer,
all I have to do is close my eyes. The truth is, I’m here to help you. Cooper was ordered to close this one down, which is why you were ordered to forget everything you know and get back to Division ASAP.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the chemical used to spike the drinks was a proprietary drug made by none other than Helix Pharmaceuticals and Advancements — the same assholes responsible for Red Breath and turning us into what we are.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  Willow ran a finger across her left nipple, turning it from a rubber eraser into a high caliber bullet beneath her nearly see-through blouse. “A source,” she whispered. “That’s all I can say.”

  Brad ignored her teasing, even though his dick refused to show the same dignity. He said, “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Helix want to dose a bunch of old people all the way in a retirement village in Florida? What could they possibly have to gain? This seems more like a prank than widespread industrial experimentation.”

  “I know what, not why. Maybe they were unwitting test subjects?”

  Brad shook his head. “I don’t buy it. I can’t see Helix picking test subjects so open, out in public view. The videos are bigger than ‘Gangnam Style,’ for fuck’s sake.”

  “Hey, I’m not the agent, that’s you. I’m just giving you a heads-up and trying to help you out.”

  “Why?”

  Willow cooed, “The same reason you would help me out if you could?” then took a step toward him.

  Brad wanted to take another step back but stayed rooted to the floor instead, holding his hands in front of him, palms flat and facing Willow. His cock was back to throbbing, so hard it was painful.

  “I can’t do this,” he said.

  Cheating on Courtney with the coed was wrong, same as cheating on her with Starla, but both put together and multiplied by 10, might be a hundredth of how horrible things would be if he cheated on her with Willow Monroe.

  “And why not?” she purred. “Aren’t you nursing some antiquated notions on commitment and love?”

  “What the hell do you mean? And NO, of course not. Love isn’t ever antique, Willow. It’s timeless. Besides, I thought you weren’t here to ‘steal me from my lover girl’.”

  “I’m not,” Willow laughed. “You can go straight back to Room 418, and I think you should. In the meantime I just want us to do what we both want to do — what’s best for both of us.”

  “I can’t,” Brad repeated, his will slipping.

  Willow took another step toward him, then took two fingers and pushed them hard against the door, closing it behind him, then she brushed her hand against Brad’s cock through his pants, lightly at first, then gently pinching his shaft between her finger and thumb.

  “Mmmmm ... ” she moaned. “Yummy.”

  “No, Willow. I have to go.”

  “You do realize you’re refusing me for no reason,” she dipped her hands past her waistband. “I can smell her all over you, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be able to smell me on you.”

  Willow pulled her hand out from her skirt, slathered in pussy juice. She held it up under his nose, brushing a cunt-glazed knuckle lightly against his cheek. It took everything inside him not to throw her to the carpet and fuck her raw.

  “You want to fuck me raw, do you, Agent Hammer?”

  She laughed, hearing his thoughts and knowing she was about to get her way.

  Except that she wasn’t. Brad couldn’t allow that to happen.

  He forced himself to take a full step back, then turned and opened the door, following a direct order from his brain before it was overruled by his cock. With a hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Willow and said, “Thanks for the tip, Willow. I appreciate it. Now I have business to take care of up in Room 418, so if you’ll excuse me ... ”

  He didn’t finish his sentence, just winked then slipped into the hallway, hearing the door close softly behind him.

  Brad practically ran to the elevator, then across the hall to his room, hoping Courtney was still sleeping so he could wake her up and fuck her as Hammer hard as he would have fucked Willow Monroe.

  XXX

  CHAPTER 2 — Courtney Grayson

  Courtney woke to Brad’s hands all over her, sliding spaghetti straps from her slinky lingerie down the length of her shoulder. He pulled the silk to her waist, then over her ass and past her ankles, spilling her beautiful breasts into the crisply conditioned hotel air, leaving her naked since she wore no panties below her top.

  Brad groaned, already starving, then dipped beneath the covers to kiss Courtney along the soaking lines of her pussy. She was already wet, after dreaming of Brad through the night, but went from wet to soaking at the light touch of his tongue.

  She grabbed his hair and pulled him toward her, needing to feel more of him inside her. He smothered her thighs with kisses before moving his lips to her clit, exploring her insides and tasting her sweet morning juices with the flat of his well-practiced tongue. Brad started lapping, nudging Courtney toward climax as their interlude started. She curled four fingers into the sheets and the other four into his hair, waiting for the inevitable.

  Rapture rolled through Courtney’s body, running from her head to her toes, tearing through the full length of her body. Before Brad, orgasm took a while to find her. Now, it came in endless waves until she was almost too numb to feel them.

  What a fucking way to wake up!

  Courtney shoved Brad’s face deeper inside her and screamed, rattling on the mattress as Brad pulled his face from between her legs and wrapped his hand around his cock — flagpole fat — then pulled her toward him. He smiled, said, “Good morning,” then flipped Courtney to her stomach. She raised her ass in the air, just as he liked, then he played with her cheeks just like she did; running his hands all over her tight agent’s ass — well worked out — then under her body where he tenderized her swaying tits with his palms.

  “Ready?” Brad asked.

  “I could’ve taken more last night,” she lied.

  Courtney squealed as Brad jammed his dick up inside her, balls deep, resting through his first elongated moan before he started slowly sliding in and out. Once going he moved faster and faster until he nudged himself into the primal rhythm of sex. His breath was a heavy fog behind her, rising and falling as he plunged himself in and out of her body, withdrawing almost all of the way, before slamming back, fingers splayed across her ass, gently digging into her flesh and caressing her soft, creamy skin.

  Though Brad felt as amazing as always, Courtney couldn’t help but feel as though he wasn’t quite with her, his body still doing the work, even if his mind was somewhere else.

  Courtney whimpered, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Brad said, not sounding quite like himself.

  His skin was burning; hot and moist and fueling the intensity of her arousal, always deep, even if it couldn’t reach the same depths as her lover. She could feel tension mounting in his cock, over-engorged before she woke and growing fatter by the thrust. Courtney glanced at the clock — she couldn’t help it, they had a plane to catch — then started bucking her ass harder against his pelvis. She wanted him to cum, wanted to feel the spatter inside her.

  She squeezed her cunt muscles around Brad’s pipe-hard shaft, not wanting him to pull out too far, wanting every thick inch deep in her body. “How long is it going to take you to flood me with the day’s first load?” she panted. “Fill me with cum now and I’ll jack you off in the plane—” Courtney cried out as he rammed her hard. “AHHHH!!!” then finished her thought: “Or maybe I’ll take you into the bathroom, let you put your face into my pussy so I can cream all over it.”

  Brad blasted.

  The first spray was thick as always, but only a tickle at the back walls of Courtney’s hot box, compared to the second, which slapped the sides of her inner walls harder, prepping her for the third and fourth and fifth and sixth, which all poured from her pussy, flooding her inner thighs like
a busted faucet.

  Brad stayed inside her, inhaling and exhaling as he slowly rocked his body back and forth, never withdrawing. He pushed Courtney toward the bed’s center and started thrusting inside her again, this time missionary, faster and faster, hard as a gun barrel again, almost immediately.

  She glanced again at the clock, not wanting to miss their plane. “Are you sure?”

  Courtney said it as loud as she could, but through her thick breath it came out in a whisper.

  Brad grunted, answering by double-timing his thrusts.

  She had nothing to worry about. It would only be a few minutes until he would climax for the second time, and so what if she couldn’t take a shower and had to board the plane reeking like a just fucked animal — it was better than having him stop off at Pole Position, or spending the rest of the morning wondering if Willow Fucking Monroe had more stamina than she did.

  Courtney hoped Brad’s next load would land in her mouth. She screamed as he continued to thicken inside her. Her nerve endings, still on fire from the first few minutes of fucking, and of course the evening before, threw her body into another series of orgasms.

  Brad withdrew for a moment as Courtney’s body started to quiver, he paused for a moment, then flipped her flat onto her stomach, supporting himself above her still shuddering frame with his well-muscled arms. She wiggled up toward the wall of pillows to offer him some playful resistance. He made a happy growl to let her know he liked it, then pushed her hard against the mattress and eased his stiffened cock inside her until his balls, warm and aroused, were nuzzled against her piping hot pussy.

  Courtney bucked her ass as if she kept an engine inside it, meeting Brad’s thrusts until two became one.

  Fuck it. He can cum in my mouth later.

  Courtney slapped herself faster against him; their rhythm exquisite, almost unbearable.

  They came in tandem — Brad flooding her hotbox with more of his batter, heaving and groaning and crying her name before he collapsed to the sheets, his breath rising and falling like the roll of a tide. Courtney lay heaving beside him, feeling the something on his mind.