Fifty Shades of Lexi Maxxwell

by Lexi Maxxwell

  Erotica is about sex, but it’s more than that, too. Done well, it’s about the feelings and psychology that go along with it. It’s the details that are important.

  Two people fucking is insipid. Like any story, readers want the who, what, when, were and why. Bonus points for how. Readers want real characters living real lives.

  Like a perfect piece of music, it isn’t the notes that still your heart, it’s the breath between them.

  I’m an author without borders. I write fantastic smut for eager readers, or “smut for smart people,” as I like to call it. I start in your head and work my way down.

  As much as I love reading well written smut, I love writing it even more. It nurtures the part of my brain that loves to smell garlic cooking or hear the crackle of a fire.

  Erotica arouses the senses and stimulates desires. If there’s something wrong with that, I’d love to know why no one has a problem with perfume.

  These are the feelings I aim to bring out in my readers. I endeavor to write quality smut, and I’m proud that I do.

  Here are a few reviews from Amazon:

  “Lexi has the unique ability to create writing that is both erotic and compelling. Anyone can fill a page with dirty words, but Lexi completely creates her own universe of seduction, desire and red-hot sex. Highly recommended!”

  “This in my mind was damn near perfect. Raunchy, lusty, naughty, hot public sex. The writer HAS TALENT too. It’s not just two characters thrown together with a bunch of random words of a sexual nature. There is a cleverness to the style of writing, yet it’s not wordy at all. There is nothing verbose or extra, all the description,dialogue and action are lean and tight and the characters make the actions believable.”

  “The stories contained in this ebook clearly show a woman is unashamed of her sexual hunger, proud of her sexual skills and who takes great delight in the pleasure she can both give and take from a man. I highly recommend this ebook to all male readers (but have tissues at hand) AND female readers (who can learn from this outlook!).”

  “This is the first title I read by this author, and it was good enough that I now own several more. Ms. Maxwell has an incredible facility for taking the dirty fantasies we all have throughout the course of things and putting them down on the page. Her key talent though seems to be in doing this without losing any of the heat they possess when removed from the context of our immediate experience. Instead they become that experience in and of themselves and so remain intensely satisfying to the reader. I would definitely recommend her work to others who enjoy this genre.”

  “I was surprised to see how much character development and chemistry, not to mention ROMANCE was in this piece. Not to say the raunchy sex was lessened – not at all!! Plenty of yummy, sexy, romping sex. It’s just weird to come from the naughty people in the ‘Random Encounters’ series and the debauchery of the ‘Swallowing Secrets’ (only read the first one so far) and then BAM, ‘Lexi’ can also write romance? Yup! And very well!”

  “Lexi has some of the hottest descriptors in Smut today. If you can make it through the first 100 words without a throbbing in a certain place, you are either dead, or too young to be reading it in the first place. So obviously, if you came looking for satisfaction, you will not be disappointed. My favorite part, however, has to be Autumn’s speech about writing Erotica. To put it simply,its excellent. To hammer the point home, it is something anyone who’s ever wanted to or does write Erotica needs to read at some point, particularly if you have any doubts about your passion.”

  It’s hard to get reviews, and I’m proud of the ones I’ve managed to get in just a few months on Kindle, especially with a limited ability to market myself due to anonymity. No, Lexi isn’t my real name.

  Yet I’ve had more emails than I can count, almost all of them thanking me, for improving their lives, often referring to their sex lives with their partners, through the power of words.

  I love language, and have a desire to make people feel, and it works. Better sex lives, more in touch with themselves, more confident, happier.

  But this only works once you stop being afraid of language, and spend your time enjoying the dirty words, rather than hanging on the ones that serve to dim your ability to make them work for you.

  Obviously, I love the dirty words. And I love to put them in the mouths of my characters. Here is Autumn’s speech about writing Erotica referenced in one of the above reviews. Autumn Cole, from my “Talking Dirty” series is probably my favorite character to write.

  Autumn is announcing to her boyfriend, Sam, that she plans to start writing erotica. But he doesn’t like the idea.

  “Why do you have to talk dirty?”

  “Because it makes girls glisten and guys wanna glob a blob from their bottom basher. Because I love making people feel, and there’s no better place to make people feel than the place where they came from. It doesn’t matter if you’re eating from a trashcan or planning a party for the Duke of Fancypants, you were born from baby batter, shot from a cock, then dropped from a spreadeagled pussy nine months later.”

  “Jesus Christ, Autumn.”

  “I’m not trying to be insensitive. Maybe I’ll get dainty after I pop out a couple of kids. But I sure hope the fuck not. This world is too uptight already without me putting on the uniform and marching in step. Sex is sex. We all do it, or wish we could do it a whole hell of a lot more than we do. Unless your dead inside. And if you’re dead inside, you may as well be dead on the outside, too. If more people acknowledged sex as the human need it is, instead of the sin it isn’t, the world would be a much better place, even if it was a little stickier. If I’m great at my job, readers will want to fuck their partner’s faces off. Because that’s part of what life is about.”

  Love is chemistry, and sex is physics. Sometimes, people just want to fuck.

  We do it for fun, we do it to breed, and we do it because it feels so goddamn good.

  So stop pretending, and start living more of your life with a smile on your face.

  XXX

  Did you like The X-Files? Are you a fan of paranormal erotica? Then check out two chapters from my newest series, The XXX Files! It’s got sex, thrills, humor, and the best damned cliffhanger endings you’ve ever seen in smut!

  The XXX Files

  EPISODE 1

  THE PARANORMAL EROTICA THRILLER SERIAL BEGINS!

  Special Agents Brad Hammer and Courtney Grayson work for the mysterious paranormal sex crimes unit, Division 13.

  Aliens, werewolves, vampires, and ghosts ... they thought they’d seen it all.

  But then they are called on to a case which has them stumped ... a room full of dead people and enough “DNA Stains” to look like a Jackson Pollock painting!

  The only male victim is a scientist for one of the most powerful pharmaceutical companies on the planet, and it seems he’s the victim of one of his own experiments — a cigarette called Red Breath which turns men into non-stop sex machines.

  But it has another effect on women.

  It turns them into something unlike anything the agents have ever seen before — a succubus that drains the life of anyone she has sex with.

  Can the sex-obsessed Agent Hammer keep his pecker in his pants long enough to solve the crime or will he become the next victim in this case?

  The XXX Files is an erotic paranormal thriller series. Part homage to “The X-Files,” part smut, and packed with hot sex, thrills, chills, humor, and cliffhanger endings that will have you hot and hooked.

  XXX

  LEXI MAXWELL’S

  The XXX Files

  Episodes 1

  ***WARNING***

  This is a work of erotic fiction and contains GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SEX, WHICH MAY OFFEND SOME AUDIENCES. This book is meant for MATURE AUDIENCES AGED 18 OR OLDER (or whatever the local laws are in your area). All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  First published by Lexi Maxxwell, 2012

  All rights re
served under the international and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, without written permission from the publisher. Excerpts may be used for the purposes of review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © Lexi Maxxwell 2012

  EBook edition: April 1, 2012 (episode 1)

  June 8, 2012 (Season One)

  XXX

  INTRODUCTION

  I have a confession.

  I’m a bit of a geek.

  When I was younger, I LOVED “The X-Files.” Hell, I wanted to BE Agent Scully! She was a strong female character with a quiet sex appeal who played perfectly against the rogue sexiness of David Duchovny.

  I loved watching the dynamic between them.

  When I started writing smut, I wanted to test the waters with serial fiction. While I see it working extremely well in a few other genres, I don’t see much of it in smut.

  And the feedback for Swallowing Secrets was awesome. People wrote me telling me how much they loved the characters, just like I love the characters in the books I write.

  I set out to write smut with characters my readers could love and care for, so the reader reaction was gratifying. And since I’m always pushed to improve my craft, it nudged me further toward the decision to do a true serial.

  I had a lot of ideas of stories I wanted to write, that would grab the reader by the crotch and hold them by the mind, but something kept bringing me back to the feeling I had back when I was watching “The X-Files.”

  Then it slapped me right on the ass.

  Why not write a smutty homage to “The X-Files?”

  And not one of those corny porn titles based loosely on title only, but something that captures the spirit of the show, with characters you’ll actually love? This isn’t Mulder and Scully, or a cheap imitation, but they were my inspirational starting point to create flawed but lovable characters that you’ll get to know as the series continues.

  Could I combine smut with a killer paranormal storyline, suspense, humor, and cliffhangers?

  YES.

  I’m shocked by how awesome this story is turning out! It’s sexy and thrilling, and rubbing me in two of my happiest places.

  I hope you’ll love this as much as I do.

  I can’t wait to hear what you think.

  Please leave a review and tell your friends, because that’s the best way for me to give you more of what we both love.

  Thank you for reading!

  XXX

  Lexi Maxxwell

  Great Reviews Make Me WET!

  Without reviews from readers like you, I’m invisible. I know not everyone can leave reviews since sometimes you must keep the best stuff secret, but if you’re the type of reader who leaves a review, I would LOVE you to go to Amazon and let me, and other readers, know what you thought. Leave a review of this title, then send me a link to your review at: lexi@leximaxxwell.com then tell me what nasty thing you want me to say with the subject line: Talk Dirty to Me, and I’ll send you a short, personalized email, tailored to your tingles.

  XXX

  The XXX Files Episode 1

  Chapter One – Brad Hammer

  Special Agent Brad Hammer tried to open his eyes, but if felt like someone had fucked them shut forever.

  Bright light spilled into the $197 a night hotel room, harsh against the shattered fragments of fractured memories. He eased them open slowly.

  Where in the hell am I?

  Brad rubbed his neck, then moved his fingers to his temples, kneading them deep into his flesh as if the deeper they went the more likely he was to massage the pain and confusion away.

  Brad wasn’t sure what was throbbing harder, his head or his morning pride. He forced his eyes open despite the light, then stared at the tent of sheet covering his cock. No girl had ever complained about the size of Brad’s dick – at a nice, thick nine and a half inches, the second hammer Brad’s daddy had given him on the day he was born had never had any problem pounding pussy into submission, but in the bright light of the muggy Atlanta morning bleeding through the windows, it looked two inches thicker than normal, and felt a full fifteen taller.

  Brad pulled the sheet from his dick.

  Holy fucking WOW. That one eyed Sequoia can’t be mine!

  Brad was staring at a fat slab of monster meat, a good twelve inches, and nearly half as wide as a baseball bat. He couldn’t imagine a slit in Atlanta, or the entire South for that matter, who wouldn’t get slippery as a bar of soap after swallowing that.

  He curled his fingers around his throbbing cock, then closed his eyes, searching for a thread of memory to stitch his thoughts together from the previous night. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember a goddamn thing. He remembered checking into the moderately priced Atlanta hotel, just expensive enough to give the bean counters in Division 13 something to bitch about. But he didn’t remember which hotel, and sure as shit didn’t remember why he was in Atlanta, or if he had come with Grayson or alone.

  Then again, how could he remember anything when every drop of blood in his body was swelling the walls of his cock? There was a saying about how men couldn’t think when their little head was in charge. While Brad had been led to many dumb decisions, thanks to his cock, he’d never been so pre-occupied by thoughts of sex that he could do nothing else ... until now.

  He had to cum and he had to cum now. It wasn’t an impulse, it was a biological fucking imperative!

  Brad wrapped his fingers tighter around his dick, his eyes widening at the surprising girth, then started to pump his pain into pleasure. He closed his eyes and sank into the images that were strobing through his mind – powerful, conflicting, and some of them smothering all sense of the reality he knew.

  Brad pumped himself harder, as thick veins thrummed against his fingers. He eased his digits down to the base, afraid that he would start jacking so fast that the friction would burn him at the tip.

  “AAAaaaahhhhh,” he moaned, throwing his head back and driving his dick faster toward its inevitable spill.

  Images he didn’t understand tumbled through his mind like mislaid memories:

  He was in a bathroom with jade green tiled walls and mahogany colored wood. A girl with lightly bronzed skin was on her knees, looking up at him with wide doe eyes, and long cascades of coffee-colored hair showering each shoulder. “Please,” she begged. I have to suck your cock.” Her tank top was pulled over the top of a pair of unbelievable tits, with blush-pink nipples pointing straight like two tiny bullets.

  That must’ve been the girl from last night. He must have brought her up to the room.

  No, that’s not what happened...

  He suddenly remembered the girl who had actually been in the room, riding his reamer like she was training for the rodeo.

  The memory sent a strong current of testosterone surging through his body.

  Brad spotted a bottle of massage oil on the nightstand. He twisted his body and reached over to grab it with his left hand, then tipped it upside down over his dick, pouring it like syrup on a tall stack, as he stroked himself fast enough to start a fire.

  The girl was riding him reverse cowgirl, so he couldn’t see her face, just her dirty blond hair swinging in circles, as her gorgeous ass swiveled in a series of swift halos. He caught her face in the mirror, the glare from the fractured memory made her look like a goddess. She smiled in the mirror and drove Brad to orgasm.

  Cum erupted from his cock in fat globs of hot white lava, the first flying so high Brad figured he must be seeing things since the last time he saw seed slap the ceiling was never. But the next several shots flew nearly as high, each one thicker than the last.

  Brad’s shoulders dug deeper into the mattress as his body made a rainbow across the bed.
He continued pumping his still throbbing cock, milking every drop and sprinkling his splatter all around the hotel room.

  Brad heaved and shuddered, then collapsed, still slightly shaking from pleasure. He pulled the sheets around him, trying to think of the last time in his life he’d ever felt so damned good. He couldn’t remember anything close, though something inside him said it was only because he couldn’t remember the previous night.

  What the hell happened?

  He kept wracking his brain, trying to stitch his thoughts together, but everything was too frayed to fit.

  As an agent for Division 13, Brad made his living from first noticing the tiny details, then drawing the right connections. Not being able to remember even the largest details from the night before was like not being able to cum. He had figured that emptying his dick would allow him to find some clarity to think. But his head was still buzzing in confusion.

  Brad rolled toward the window, and felt the heated light spilling through the cotton shroud. From nowhere, a blurry memory popped into view and invited Brad to follow.

  He kept his eyes closed and chased the memory.

  Brad remembered checking into the hotel with his partner, Agent Courtney Grayson. Division had sent them to Atlanta, though he couldn’t remember why, at least not the specifics. It had to be some sort of sex crime that couldn't be explained with the same playbook used by 99.99% of the other agencies in the U.S., since that’s the only sort of case Division 13 ever assigned.