The XXX Files Season Two (Episodes 5-8) (3 page)

The last nun was Sister Mary Cecelia Clare, who Brad thought looked a little too yummy to be wearing the cloth — a little like one of his favorite porn stars, April May. Throughout their exchange, as bad as it made him feel, Brad kept picturing her naked. He pictured himself slapping her pretty face with his dick, blaming it on the Red Breath in his head to keep from feeling like he had a sure ticket to hell if there was one. He figured a girl that good-looking
had
to be at least semi-familiar with cock since it wasn’t like she was a nun in high school — when every guy in all four classes was likely jerking to her yearbook photo, yet Sister Mary Cecelia Clare seemed horrified if not downright offended by every word from his mouth. The worst part was, Brad wasn’t trying to be offensive at all.

He asked her a simple question. “Have you seen any penises or ejaculates, invisible or otherwise?” But judging by Sister Mary Cecelia Clare’s cold hard stare, she heard him say, “Have you seen any giant ghost cocks shooting spooge inside the church?”
 

Brad left Sister Mary Cecelia Clare’s office feeling as if there was something seriously wrong with him, and hating that all his interviews hadn’t led to a single lead. He thanked the sister for her time, then headed toward the girl’s dorm to see if Courtney had had any luck.
 

Brad was a good boy, and had done as promised by keeping his partner at the top of his thoughts, at least through the first 35 minutes or so, until he started speaking with Sister Mary Cecelia Clare and thinking of her as April May, which of course made him wonder what sort of panties nuns wore since it definitely wasn’t a lace thong like April had in “Inspect Her Gadget 2.”
 

Brad was around a hundred yards from the dorm, wondering if the depths of his depravity went much deeper than imagining Sister Mary Cecelia Clare wearing a lace thong and peeling it to the side so she could take it in the ass, when a hot young coed bounced up to Brad and asked him if he had a minute.

“Of course,” Brad said, imagining her naked. “How can I help you?”
 

“Are you here investigating the locker room ... uh ... stuff?”
 

“Yup,” Brad laughed. “That’s me.”
 

“Well,” the hot young coed batted her eyes, “I think I might know something that could help you.”
 

“Oh?” Brad had a sudden, genuine interest, beyond the one twitching his dick. “And what’s that?” He reached into his jacket for the small notepad and pen he kept tucked in the pocket.
 

The hot girl swallowed, looking suddenly nervous. Either because of the Red Breath inside him, or because the Breath made it easy to be the sexual deviant he naturally was, Brad imagined her swallowing a load of his yogurt.

“I don’t think I should tell you here,” she said. “It might be dangerous. Besides, I think I’d rather show you. Do you have a few minutes?”
 

“Of course,” Brad said, clicking the pen, looking at his watch, and wondering how far Courtney was getting with her own round of questioning, and whether he should grab her before getting to the coed’s discovery. Then, again, either because of the Red Breath in his blood or because nature made him an asshole, he smiled, said, “Lead the way,” then fell into step behind the hot girl.
 

“What’s your name?” Brad asked as they rounded the library, apparently headed toward the lecture hall. As if to confirm their direction, the hot girl turned back toward Brad, pointed at the auditorium.
 

“We’re headed there,” she said. “And my name is April.”
 

Well, goddammit.
 

Brad followed April through the entrance, down the aisles, and then backstage. As they were stepping into the shadows, she turned back to Brad and said, “Don’t worry. No one
ever
comes back here during the day.”
 

“And what you’re showing me has to do with the case, right? What we’ve already seen in the locker room?”
 

“Yes,” April nodded, stepping deeper into the shadows.
 

Of course, April was lying, and Brad suspected as much the second they started walking toward the auditorium. Now, together in such a small, closed-in space, Brad could smell her lust. He knew he should about face; turn around and get back to Courtney before he did something stupid, but he couldn’t. Brad was trapped by his momentum, forced to be a selfish cheating dog by the Breath in his blood.
 

His cock pounded hard as April’s ass swayed in the shadows a few feet in front of him. He smiled, knowing he was seconds from spilling his load.
 

“OK,” she said, coming to a full stop in what seemed to be a costume and prop room. Brad hoped she didn’t want him to dress in anything weird. “I have a confession.”
 

Let me guess: You cheated on your entrance exam.

“I don’t really know anything about what’s been happening in the locker room, but I saw you earlier and thought you were cute.” She turned her eyes wider and smile brighter. “I was hoping you might want to have some fun.”
 

Brad wanted to be a good boy, and for a second almost said no. But he couldn’t do that — his dick wouldn’t let him — so he just stood there frozen instead.
 

April said, “Are you worried about your partner? Because if you are, I promise, she’ll never know a thing.”
 

Like that, he was all over her.
 

Even though Brad knew he could get April to worship him, he felt an aching need to worship her first, so he grabbed a coat from a nearby rack, dropped it to the floor, then fell to his knees — not wanting scuff marks or evidence to stain his slacks — then yanked her skirt down in a single fluid motion, and followed it by sliding a pair of thin pink panties down to her ankles.
 

April smiled, then whimpered.
 

Brad ran his tongue from knee to inner thigh, then to April’s inner crease. He looked up at her, smiling. She nodded, and Brad spread her legs and buried his face in her bitchcake.
 

Brad teased April’s dripping pussy with his softly lapping tongue as she peeled the tight tee from her body and started kneading her right tit, pinching her nipples and softly moaning. Brad spread her pussy wider with a pair of fingers while lapping faster along the upper rim of her lower lips. She shuddered each time Brad’s finger found her nub. He shoved his fingers inside her, harder by the shudder.
 

Warmth flooded from Brad’s tongue to April’s insides, then up through her lower stomach. Her hands went from her breasts to Brad’s hair, pushing his face deeper into her DNA drive. He stabbed and withdrew, repeating the motion over and over until April’s legs started to tremble.
 

Brad could feel her scream before she actually did. He pulled his mouth from her pussy and glared up at her, then launched to his feet and slapped his hand on her mouth.
 

Oh great, if someone walks in now, I am SO losing my job.

She bit his finger and Brad yanked it away. Then April winked and started chewing on her lip, thrusting her hips into the open air between them. Brad’s fingers replaced his tongue as he twisted two and then three digits inside her. April bucked against his hand, pushing harder against him, as Brad slammed his knuckles into her ass.
 

A hot mess of liquid shot down his arm. April smiled down at Brad, then yanked him up to her mouth as the taste of her twat still frothed on his tongue. She slipped a button through its hole, then frantically tugged his slacks to his ankles on the way to her knees, taking his dick in her mouth and sliding her tongue around his head with a swivel before shoving him as far down her throat as she could.
 

Brad guided her head with his hands, rocking her mouth back and forth over the length of his rock hard cock. One of her hands grasped at his base while the other fondled his balls, rolling them in her hand like a pair of lucky dice.
 

The foreplay was nice, and Brad was digging it, but he thought of the danger of getting caught — either by Courtney or one of the sisters — and, fueled by the Red Breath, tore his dick from April, then scooped her up from the floor and roughly bent her in half.
 

She turned back to Brad, eyes wide and mouth growling, then giggled, said, “Yummy,” and slapped her hands on the wall, waiting for entry. His hand found her slick, dripping hole as he brushed his cock across it, from bottom to top, wanting to hear her beg.
 

April knew what he wanted and was happy to give it. “Please ... Please!” she begged.

Brad roared into motion, plunging himself into her hungry hole, shoving his pelvis against her, fast and deep, holding her hips as he rocked his body hard against them. One hand held April against the wall while the other slipped between her legs and started furiously rubbing his fingers across her pussy.
 

He fucked her faster and harder, grunting, no longer giving a shit for her pleasure, just wanting to get off as fast as he could. A few seconds before Brad had been rubbing her pussy, trying to bring her to orgasm before he got his, but the Red Breath was now in control. He dug his thumbs into her skin, using April’s body for leverage as he pounded her without mercy.
 

She screamed, clearly unable to help it. Brad didn’t stop, but used the fear as fuel to fuck her faster. She shook as Brad felt her climax approaching. April screamed again, grabbing at the wall, her body rattling with pleasure as her tits swung down in front of her. Brad grabbed a nipple, and squeezed, intensifying April’s orgasm by blending pleasure with pain. She screamed for a third time — the loudest of all and the one Brad was sure would get them found out — rocking her ass harder against his dick.
 

Her back arched as she came, lifting her onto her tiptoes. Her scent was everywhere, humid from the heat of their blended bodies. Brad couldn’t hold back, nor did he want to. He thrusted again, then held himself to the hilt, his skin mashed against hers as he shot giant loads of hot cum deep into her cunt.

He thought of Courtney, then Willow and the hundreds of women between them — he felt grateful that he’d learned to control the Breath in his blood as well as he had, which meant turning encounters like the one with April into amazing sex, rather than a dangerous dance with possible death.
 

Brad helped April to her feet, then moved a sweaty clump of hair from in front of her face. She smiled, then giggled and said thank you. Before he could answer, the short hairs on his neck all bristled at once.
 

Brad heard heavy breathing, as if someone were behind them ... watching.
 

He launched himself toward the sound of the breathing, coming from the far side of the costume room just a few feet away. Halfway there he was slapped in the face with an impossibly large wad of ectoplasmic spunk.

“Fuck!” he screamed, pulling up his pants and chasing what looked like a heat blur outside the auditorium and across the campus.

In bright daylight the shadow disappeared. After turning in circles and seeing nothing, Brad went back to the costume room, wiping handfuls of sticky goop from his body.
 

Holy fuck — this guy cums more than I do!

“I think you need to change,” April said.
 

“No shit,” Brad grumbled.
 

They searched for 10 minutes together — certainly longer than their coital encounter — but since there were almost no men’s clothes at all they found nothing Brad could wear other than a pimp costume for a play the drama department had put on a month or so before. April said the performance wasn’t very good at all, but that the pimp had been “almost as funny as ‘Always Sunny.’”
 

“Great,” Brad said, stripping do nothing, then dressing like a pimp, starting with a feathered hat on his head.

XXX

CHAPTER 4 — Courtney Grayson

Courtney hoped Brad was having better luck then her. She had been questioning coeds for an hour and had almost nothing, at least not anything she couldn’t have scripted herself.
 

The list Sister Theresa had given her was filled with several names from a group of girls, all waiting in a multipurpose room to get questioned by one of the agents. Though Brad surely wished it was him, Courtney was glad it wasn’t the second she opened the door. Every girl in the room was a looker, and gravity had yet to have its way with a single one. Tits were firm and lips were pouting. Courtney could practically feel their ripe, glistening slits. Brad would have gone nuts in the room, his Jekyll surrendering to his extremely horny Hyde. She would have likely been forced to stand back and witness the squishing.
 

If there really was a ghost jacker, she could certainly understand his fascination.
 

Courtney led the girls one by one into what Sister Theresa had called “the sacred space.” She didn’t see what was so sacred about it, and the space was barely a closet. Still, it was big enough for Courtney to question the girls one at a time, and probably for Brad to wiggle his root of all evil into the sacred space of the tightest coeds. Again, she was glad they swapped lists.