The XXX Files Season One (Episodes 1-4)

by Lexi Maxxwell

  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.

  It was after the second orgasm when she could see it in his eyes – Agent Hammer was losing all ability to discern fact from reality. She had seen it in Richard’s eyes as well, and had felt it in her own many times, especially in the beginning.

  She wasn’t quite sure what was real herself, what was prophecy come true from the images she had broadcast, and what was actually happening in their present reality.

  Was she really squatting on the floor with her knees spread apart, stroking his dick with one hand and her cunt with the other. Or sitting on his face, glazing his lips with her glistening juices as she bucked hard on his mouth, twisting her nipples and screaming about the GOD that he was?

  She wasn’t sure about the first two, but Willow was sure she was in the thick of reality while riding him reverse cowgirl
, wildly thrashing as she stared at herself in the mirror. She screamed, “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?”

  Agent Hammer pulled himself from her pussy, and flipped her onto her stomach. The blended sensations of warm and cool cum on the sheets were a pleasant tickle against her titties.

  The tickle was the last thing she felt before Agent Hammer’s cock wormed its way into her asshole and sent her into another one of the evening’s countless orgasms.

  She screamed in the hotel room, and even louder in her mind.

  She was writhing around in the front of Heaven’s Gates, about to roll over to the clouds on the other side. She wiggled her ass like a demon, milking his dick to its final blast. The next one would kill him, and make her infinitely stronger.

  Willow wiggled faster.

  It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. It was the Red Breath.

  She could feel him tightening behind her. In another few seconds her ass would be dripping and Agent Hammer would be dead.

  He’s a loose end, he has to go.

  It was a memory that saved him, one she wasn’t supposed to see.

  Sometimes you couldn’t help what you saw or remembered during sex, and Agent Hammer couldn’t help but remember his first time, with his neighbor Caitlin, the two of them laying side by side, with him all starry-eyed. Hammer turned from Caitlin and looked into Willow, right into the center of everything she was.

  No, I’m not a murderer.

  Not of good people, and not if I can help it.

  Agent Hammer wasn’t Richard, or any one of his half dozen hotel sluts.

  Willow pulled away from Brad’s dick, just in time. He looked at her dazed, like a cartoon character with whistling birds circling his head, in a long, lingering confused moment that seemed to take up half of forever.

  His cock suddenly twitched, then sprayed like a sprinkler, splattering the walls with a fresh batch of cum.

  He collapsed to the bed, unconscious.

  As Willow stared at him, she suddenly realized something. She’d brought him closer to the brink of death than anyone she’d not consumed. And in that moment, where she allowed him to live, she’d also done something else. She’d forged a connection with him. She could feel it, like mother to child.

  But this wasn’t just a connection.

  There was something else happening, something she couldn’t yet understand, but felt it like blood flowing inside her. And then it dawned on her what she’d done. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew it as certain as she knew her name.

  Oh my God.

  Maybe I should just kill him?

  No.

  I can’t.

  Willow quickly dressed, then went to the closet and removed Richard’s briefcase. She then found a notepad and pen and scribbled a note to Agent Hammer, which she stuck on the mirror in the bathroom.

  Willow slipped into the hallway, and closed the door behind her.

  The only problem with not feeding on Agent Hammer’s lifeforce, was that it left her weak, and needing to satisfy the hunger immediately. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander the floor, searching.

  She found what she was looking for two rooms down. She knocked on the door and a woman with long dark hair and yin-yang tattoo on her left bicep opened the door wearing a white tank top and silk pink shorts.

  “Hello,” Willow said. “Wanna party?”

  As if the woman had a choice.

  XXX

  Chapter Six – Brad Hammer

  back to the present...

  Agent Brad Hammer stared at the dead body in his bathtub. Eyes open, staring dead at him.

  This was one memory he couldn’t remember.

  What the hell? Did I do that?

  His stomach churned and he felt like he might puke. The feeling passed as he forced himself to confirm what he knew. He lifted her wrist and felt like puking again. The girl had no pulse.

  No way I did this. No fucking way.

  What the hell is happening?

  Who’s setting me up?

  His mind flashed on the woman from last night — Willow.

  Had she killed this woman? Had she also killed Dr. Madsen and the other women?

  What the hell is going on?

  His cell phone buzzed from somewhere in the room. Brad nearly jumped from his skin. He raced to his bed, and saw the phone’s light shining through his pants pocket, laying on the floor.

  He fished the phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it, before turning it over to see from the screen who was calling.

  It was a message from his partner, Grayson.

  “Where are you Hammer? We’ve got a plane to catch and you’re not answering your phone. I’m going down to get some coffee. Get your shit together and get the briefcase. I’ll be up in 15 minutes. You better not be drunk again.”

  The briefcase!

  He knew what he’d see before he even checked the closet. The briefcase, along with the notes, the cash, and the cigarettes were gone.

  Also gone . . . his department-issued computer.

  Oh fuck.

  He ran back into the bathroom, and looked again at the note, wondering what the hell it meant.

  “I’m sorry.

  Now you’re infected, too.”

  XXX

  TO BE CONTINUED...

  EPISODE TWO: Chapter One – Brad Hammer

  Agent Brad Hammer stared at the body in his bathtub. Eyes open, staring dead at him.

  This was one memory he couldn’t remember.

  What the hell? Did I do that?

  His stomach churned and he felt like he might puke. The feeling passed as he forced himself to confirm what he knew. He lifted her wrist and felt like puking again. The girl had no pulse.

  No way I did this. No fucking way.

  What the hell is happening?

  Who’s setting me up?

  His mind flashed on the woman from last night — Willow.

  Had she killed this woman? Had she also killed Dr. Madsen and the other women?

  What the hell is going on?

  His cell phone buzzed from somewhere in the room. Brad nearly jumped from his skin. He raced to his bed, and saw the phone’s light shining through his pants pocket, laying on the floor.

  He fished the phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it, before turning it over to see from the screen who was calling.

  It was a message from his partner, Grayson.

  “Where are you Hammer? We’ve got a plane to catch and you’re not answering your phone. I’m going down to get some coffee. Get your shit together and get the briefcase. I’ll be up in 15 minutes. You better not be drunk again.”

  The briefcase!

  He knew what he’d see before he even checked the closet. The briefcase, along with the notes, the cash, and the cigarettes were gone.

  Also gone . . . his department-issued computer.

  Oh fuck.

  He ran back into the bathroom, and looked again at the note, wondering what the hell it meant.

  “I’m sorry.

  Now you’re infected, too.”

  He had no idea what the note meant, but it didn’t sound good.

  He grabbed the note and put it in his pocket. He had more immediate concerns. It would only be a matter of time before Grayson came to get his ass up. And while her waking him up was nothing new, as he’d woken from many a hangovers to see her disapproving face looking down at him, never did he have a corpse to explain.

  He did another sweep for the briefcase.

  Nada. Zilch. Nothing.

  Not a single sign of the briefcase, or his slim, steel-toned alloy, high-end and higher tech computer. In many ways, the missing laptop was a bigger deal than the briefcase. It not only had a shit heap of confidential casework, it also had departmental crap that could get him canned. He could trash the files by remote, but that didn’t mean it would make Division happy, or that the files weren’t already compr
omised.

  The laptop was encrypted, but someone who knew exactly what they were doing could get inside. Compromised data could spell hell for Division since it could be traded, sold, or trigger a festival of fuck ups.

  Two years earlier on a mission in Moscow, Agent Barton had accidentally given the wrong USB drive to a rogue group of alien liberation nutjobs in exchange for information on an asset. The mistake ended up compromising nearly 23,000 sensitive department files. Because Division 13 didn’t officially “exist,” no one officially had to say where Agent Barton was currently located. Speculation ran from an outpost in Atlanta to working as a fluffer for the Bigfoot breeding facility in the Appalachians.

  Brad returned to the bathroom, hearing Grayson royally bitching him out in the back of his head. He had to sort shit out, and fast. Though Grayson had said she’d be up to his room in 15 minutes, he figured he probably had a half hour or so. She usually told him earlier than she’d be there so he’d be ready, and at the same time, she didn’t like having to rouse him from sleep, especially since he usually slept in the nude. So she’d probably give him a bit more time to wake on his own, or hear the cell phone. At least that’s what he hoped.

  Brad glanced at the woman’s corpse again, hoping, maybe even praying, one more look would rattle something from the empty in his head.

  He crouched by the tub, scratching his head, trying to figure shit, while his ears rang with the shrill quiet that falls between ignition and detonation.

  There’s no way I did that. I couldn’t have killed her.

  Brad kept telling himself repeatedly since he didn’t quite believe it. Acid gurgled, then lurched in his stomach, this time going farther than it had before. Two seconds later, Brad was leaning over the bowl, praying to the Porcelain God as he emptied his insides into a stew in the bowl.

  FUCK!

  He’d have to call a cleaner, and pray to Christ on a cross that the guy could get to the Georgian Terrace in 15 minutes. Brad had yet to meet a cleaner he particularly liked, though every one he had ever met ended up being someone he couldn’t live without. Zach Jameson, a senior agent at Division and one of Brad’s early mentors, taught him to have a cleaner in every city ... just in case.