Red Breath was the world’s first super sex drug in its most potent form. But for all its wonder, the drug in its current form was apparently peppered with problems. Brad wasn’t sure where to start looking since every limb of research sent him in a dozen new and confusing directions. Rather than the actual research, Brad found the most telling information in Dr. Madsen’s notes.
It turned out the doctor was prescribing himself a taste of his own medicine, and judging by the documented doses had turned into quite the junkie, moving from casual use to constant intoxication in just under two months.
The drug also appeared to affect different psyches in different ways. The doctor never should have self-medicated, at least not before he found a way to dilute it. Being a lab nerd since high school hadn’t prepared Madsen’s mind to deal with the drug, and it looked like it had eaten him alive. A guy like Brad, on the other hand, could take a dose of the Breath to amplify what he already had, without the danger of it completely altering his brain chemistry.
Brad leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his thick head of dark brown hair, staring at the briefcase and the open carton of Red Breath. He knew he shouldn't take it, and the whisper inside him was screaming for him to stop, but Brad smelled the adventure, and loved how much the odds were in his favor.
Dr. Madsen was a nerd, Brad wasn’t.
Dr. Madsen had an endless supply of the drug, Brad didn’t.
Dr. Madsen had an academic interest, Brad’s was purely social.
Of course, Dr. Madsen didn’t have Agent Grayson, who would be furious with him if she knew what he was doing. But she would never know if he didn’t tell her.
The open briefcase was a no-win situation. If Brad said yes, he’d be breaking protocol and the law, maybe even jeopardizing his health or safety. If he said no, he would wonder what he’d missed for the rest of his life.
Red Breath helped men cum multiple times in a row, with no dilution in desire or performance. That was enough to make him pull one of the cigarettes from the package, hold it under his nose, and inhale the sweet scent of chocolate, vanilla, jasmine, fresh rain, spring after a hard winter, and pussy.
He felt an immediate swell in his cock, as the scent made it easy to imagine the Red Breath working inside him. He placed the paper between his lips, then held it there as he fished through the briefcase for a lighter. He pulled a silver Zippo from the inner flap of the briefcase, then held it under the cigarette still dangling from his lips, suddenly too scared to light it.
What if a single breath changed him?
What if he lost control like Madsen had?
What if there was no turning back, and Red Breath was forever?
Brad shook his head at his own paranoia, sat at the edge of the bed, then lit the cigarette, drawing a deep drag of the smoke, where he held it in his well practiced lungs, just like the weed he “officially” never smoked.
Brad blew the first long trail of scarlet smoke into the room and stared at the crimson cloud which gave the drug its name. His head went buzzing, quickly followed by his entire body. He couldn’t imagine doing anything, but sitting in the chair as a flutter of something he’d never felt before rippled through his body like the tease of an approaching orgasm.
His muscles were completely relaxed and he felt like he was sitting in a tube being rushed down a gentle river. For a moment he forgot where he was, as he turned in circles, blinking at his empty hotel room. While the world around him felt as though it had slowed, his thoughts had accelerated. There was a multiple more than usual, and most of them were centered around the same message being sent to his brain.
He suddenly wanted to fuck.
No, he needed to fuck, and not just fuck, but fuck the living shit out of someone.
Brad’s cell suddenly thrummed against his leg. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen – a local Atlanta number. “Hello,” he said.
“Hi there, Agent Hammer, this is Willow, Willow Monroe. We spoke earlier today about...”
“Yes, of course Miss Monroe,” Brad cut her off. “How can I help you?”
The memory of her pert tits and sweet scent made his throbbing cock throb harder.
“I have some information that I think might be relevant to your case.” She paused, then dropped her voice to a whisper and added, “I know it is.”
“What’s loosened your tongue? Don’t you still have a non-disclosure to worry about?” The thought of Willow Monroe’s loosened tongue had him imagining it lapping the fat of his shaft.
Willow whispered even softer. She kept her tone professional, but Brad thought she sounded sexy as fuck. “I think I’m being followed, and I don’t think I’m safe. They don’t want me to tell you what I know.” She sounded like she was trying to keep herself from crying. “I think they might try to kill me, too. Just like they…” she trailed off, then said. “Is there somewhere we can meet? I’m in the car now. I can meet you anywhere.”
“Yes, of course Miss Monroe. Do you know where the Georgian Terrace is?”
“On Peachtree?’
“That’s right,” he said. “I’ll be in the hotel bar in 15 minutes. Can you meet me there?”
“Yes,” she said. I’m on my way now.” After a long second of silence, Willow added, “Thank you Agent Hammer,” then the line went dead.
Brad needed approximately two minutes to get downstairs to the bar, but figured he needed at least five to fist fuck the seed from his cock, and another five to clear the evidence. He couldn’t exactly head downstairs with his dick fat enough to fuck a tailpipe.
Brad was still swimming in the Red Breath when he went into the bathroom, dropped his pants to the floor, took his cock in hand – which felt twice as big as it ever had before – then held himself over the bathtub and tossed one off in under a minute, with a giant glob of pudding flying from the open eye of his snake.
He took a minute to admire the size of his splatter, cleaned himself up, closed the briefcase, slipped it inside the closet with his bag in front of it, hoped to hell he wasn’t making the worst mistake ever, then headed from his room to the hotel bar.
His body was a silent inferno. He stepped up to the bar and ordered a double shot of Patron, hoping the alcohol would do something to douse the Red Breath taking over his body.
He felt like the Terminator of Twat; scanning the room and mentally evaluating every available hole. His eyes settled on a hot piece of ass: his perfect type, with lightly bronzed skin and shoulder length coffee-colored hair, with a modest length skirt and a thin, tight tank top.
Brad didn’t have to move a muscle. He simply stood at the bar and sipped his Patron. She was standing beside him at the bar a minute later.
“Hey there,” she said.
Brad ordered Coffee-Colored Hair a double shot of Patron to match his own, then they made small talk for the two minutes it took the bartender to fill her glass.
Coffee Hair lifted the shot to her lips, winked at Brad, took it down in a fluid gulp and swallowed like a good girl, smiling like she’d just swallowed a mouthful of throat yogurt. She then stood on her tip-toes, leaned into Brad’s ear and whispered, “Ever fucked a tight pussy in a public restroom before?”
Of course he had, more times than he could count, starting back when the little birdie at the bar was probably still in preschool. And holy hotbox and a hell yeah, Brad wanted to fuck her silly in the bathroom right now. His just emptied cock was already throbbing.
Brad whispered back. “You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you, darling?”
“Of course I do,” she laughed. “Now follow me.” Coffee Hair skipped from the bar, across the lobby, then over toward the bathroom. She stepped inside the men’s room. Brad followed a step behind, locking the door behind him.
Brad’s hands went straight for her firm, young tits as she latched her mouth onto his and started working the zipper of his pants. Brad pulled the straps of her tank-top down past her shoulders, and then unfastened her br
a, spilling her spheres of milky flesh with their bright pink nipples pointing straight at him.
Brad kneaded them hard, then brought them to his mouth, first one and then the other as Coffee Hair moaned and writhed beneath his lips.
“Holy shit, dude,” she said, finally freeing Brad’s massive cock. “That’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen!” She dropped to her knees and looked up, her eyes pleading. “Please let me suck you off, I want to so, so bad. I want to swallow your cum and have you cum on my face and tits. Then I want to make you hard again so you can fuck me in my pussy and make me cum like I did for you.”
Brad had met the girl just five minutes before and she was begging and panting like she’d been waiting her whole life and probably meant every word. Brad was used to girls falling all over him, but he had never seen anything like this.
“Is that really what you want?” Brad asked. “For me to fuck you?”
“Yes!”
“Then beg me.”
“Please mister, please will you fuck me?”
“Louder.”
“PLEASE FUCK ME!”
“Suck it!” Brad said.
Coffee Hair took Brad’s 10-12 inches into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head and worked her way to his balls. He fucked her mouth for a full minute, nearly losing himself to the ecstasy. Brad could feel the Red Breath taking over, whispering that his pleasure was all that mattered.
The smart part of his brain pulled back, afraid he would badly hurt her. As much as he wanted to keep fucking her mouth until he flooded it with spunk, he pulled out just seconds from cumming, pulled her to her feet, reached beneath her skirt, then ripped off her panties.
With his right hand, Brad massaged her clit, finger-fucking her tight pussy as she bucked against his hand and swore to every God worshipped around the globe that he was the best Earth had to offer, humping his hand into a body shattering orgasm. She slapped her palm against the wall and screamed. Brad muffled her mouth with his hand and growled, “Shut the fuck up or someone will bust in here.”
He withdrew his hand, and replaced it with his mouth as he continued to thrust his fingers in her box. When she was done shaking, he roughly turned her around, leaned her against the wall, then shoved his cock in her cunt, all the way to the base.
Once inside, Brad held nothing back, thrusting her into whimpers, stretching her walls like damp cotton as his hands danced between her ass and tits – rubbing her raw; pinching, and playing. Coffee Hair reached down and started playing with her clit and Brad’s balls, swinging wildly as he pounded behind her.
Something was happening inside him that he still didn’t understand. There was a split down the middle of his mind, the pleasure promising to punish the pain and make it leave forever, if only Brad would let it.
Brad pulled himself from her pussy to keep himself from cumming.
His resistance lasted just seconds. Coffee Hair looked hungry enough to eat whatever he fed her, so Brad turned her around, picked her up, then slammed his cock back inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he gripped one firm ass cheek in each hand, watching her tits bounce wildly as he fucked her into another screaming orgasm.
“Please, please cum inside me!” Coffee Hair begged.
Her pleas pushed Hammer harder as the spunk boiled in his balls, ready to splatter inside her inner walls. He suddenly thought about Willow, could smell her sweet scent and imagined himself inside her.
He looked at Coffee Hair and her face was suddenly Willow’s.
A second from cumming, Brad’s brain finally won the battle. He dropped her on the top of the sink, withdrew his dick, then suddenly exploded, shooting his cream all over her (Willow’s) face and adding a splash of milk to her vanilla latte-colored tits.
Coffee Hair was a mess, but she was also delirious, and mumbling a bit like she’d just gotten off the best, most orgasmic roller-coaster ever and needed a few minutes to compose herself.
“Thank you,” Brad said, fixing himself in the mirror and then excusing himself and making his way out of the bathroom and back to the bar.
As his nose and cock promised, Willow was standing at the bar, looking hot as fuck. Though he’d already milked his dick dry twice in 20 minutes, he already felt the blood rushing back toward his ball sack.
XXX
Chapter Five – Willow Monroe
Willow saw the entire episode in the bathroom from the clear view of her unclouded mind, watching Brad hammer the holy hell out of that poor girl’s backside. There’s no way he could have seen his own look of shock when he covered her in a liter of spooge. He’d have to get used to it since the drug would stay in his system a while.
Agent Hammer came out of the bathroom, the scent of Red Breath and pussy all over him. He could sense her before he saw her, as she called to him in his mind. Her cunt was on fire, and she couldn’t wait to get him to the room and fuck him within an inch of his life, or maybe she’d even go all the way. Nothing felt better, and though she would certainly hate herself later, she’d always have the excuse that it was the Red Breath and not her.
Willow knew that when it came to the moment of truth, she might not be strong enough to refuse.
“Miss Monroe,” Agent Hammer said as he approached the bar.
“Agent Hammer,” she held out her hand. He took it, and a current of electricity crackled between them. He smiled, and she could feel the blood flowing to his cock. She imagined it throbbing inside her, and her pussy started leaking down her upper leg as it pulsed against her panties.
“How can I help you?”
Willow didn’t answer, at least not with words. She went into his mind and gave him a peep show instead, starting with a movie of her splayed across her couch, just after he left that afternoon, rubbing her hot palm across her hotter pussy. Then she took him into the bathroom with the brown haired girl, except Willow put her face on the body just as it got covered in cum. She ended his mind movie with a trip upstairs to Brad’s hotel room, with her fingers on his fly, freeing his cock and jacking the shaft as her lips latched onto the blush of his neck.
Agent Hammer probably thought he was imagining everything himself, and that the Red Breath was putting it there. Her heavy lifting was done the moment he drew the Red Breath. It wouldn’t take much, if anything, to get him alone.
Willow looked nervously to her right, and then to her left, then said, “I don’t feel safe here. Is there somewhere we can go?”
Agent Hammer didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not sure who’s following you, so I’m not sure the safest place to go. I suggest we stay in the hotel, but get out of the bar. Maybe my room?” He said it like a question, though clearly it wasn’t.
She nodded. He said, “Come on, let’s go,” then took her by the arm and led her toward the elevator.
On the ride up, Willow continued to let him think he was imagining himself inside her. He lightly moaned beneath his breath as she put more thoughts in his head, this time of her sitting on his face, as she glazed his lips with her glistening juices, bucking hard against his mouth, twisting her nipples and screaming about the GOD that he was.
Good luck trying to get his mind off her now.
He didn’t stand a chance.
They were in the room for seconds before Agent Hammer lost all sense of protocol. He started out with the right questions:
How can I help keep you safe?
What do you know about Dr. Madsen’s death?
Who do you believe is following you, and what don’t they want you to say?
Willow answered each with a coy nod as though she were trying to find the answers, but filled his mind with more images instead.
Squatting on the floor with her knees spread apart, stroking his dick with one hand and her cunt with the other. Then riding him reverse cowgirl as she wildly thrashed, staring at herself in the mirror and screaming, “How would you like to shove that hammer of yours right up my ass and cum in me so hard I fly off the bed?”
That was when Agent Hammer lost it.
He was suddenly on top of her, apparently willing to surrender his badge, ripping her blouse and throwing it to the floor. He lifted her up in his strong arms as she wrapped her legs around him, then swallowed his lips with hers.
Her tongue darted into his mouth, and his fucked hers right back, their lips mashed against one another hard enough to turn purple. He threw her on the bed and she reached for the top button of his pants, like a starving street urchin reaching for a banana.
He slapped her hand away, freed his cock from his pants by himself with his right hand, grabbed her head with his left and shoved his cock into her hot and hungry mouth, which was waiting in an open O before it got there.
He moaned on entry. She did, too.
Willow started lapping the sides of the shaft like she was trying to keep cream from melting off the side of a cone. She used her mouth as a pussy and fucked Hammer hard enough to charge by the minute, while he surrendered to pleasure.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth hung open. Her head bobbed furiously up and down. Agent Hammer suddenly groaned, and his body twitched. Willow had to pull back because the throb of his cock was like an earthquake in her mouth.
The first blast slapped the back of her throat, the second splattered her hair, then as she pulled back further, the next one hit her chin. The next three painted her tits, and the final one landed on her belly button then leaked down to the top of her skirt.
Willow leapt from the bed, peeled her skirt to the floor, then jumped back on the mattress and started jacking Agent Hammer back to a hardened pipe.
It took ten seconds.
He growled, then rolled her over and shoved himself inside her sopping wet hole. The bed was so wet it looked like someone dumped a bucket of water on the top. He hammered her for four relentless minutes until he shot her full of cum, his second orgasm blasting even harder than the first, pooling the puddle below them to a bleed off the side.
42 Filthy Fucking Stories Page 22