Free The XXX Files Season Two (Episodes 5-8) by Lexi Maxxwell Page A

people fucking.”  
    “You’re an asshole, Hammer,” Courtney said. “Old people have the same rights to fucking as you do. It’s crap like that that helps ageism flourish. Everyone is so obsessed with looking young that we can’t stand to imagine that seniors are sexually attractive, too. We think of sex as having to do with youth, reproduction, and power, but that doesn’t mean old people should be asexual. You’re going to be old one day too, you know.”  
    “I didn’t say that old people should be asexual, or didn’t have a right to fuck. I just don’t want to see it or know about it, and sure as hell shouldn’t be flying down to Florida to see it up close. Again, this is a cop issue.”
    “Like I already told you, and Cooper told me while screaming for a half hour while you were off doing whatever it is you were doing, one of the people at the Goldblatt party is his father. That makes this Division crap, whether you like it or not. He wants this looked into right. The cops will screw things up like they always do, and he knows it as well as you do. You’d want the same thing if this involved your father.”  
    “If this was my father, I’d be hoping for an assignment in Antarctica, and while I don’t dispute that the cops will likely fuck shit up, that doesn’t mean this isn’t a total bullshit use of Division Resources. What if there were shape shifting hermaphrodites infiltrating congress again?”
    “Well, there aren’t, Hammer, and Cooper calls the shots. Get used to it since apparently you’re not already. We’re not being diverted from a priority case to take this, we’re taking this while waiting for a priority case to surface.”  
    “We should be following up on the ghost jacker,” Brad said. “If he can do it, others can, too. And the last thing we want is a nation full of invisible perverts. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be?”
    “Of course,” Courtney said. “And I don’t disagree, but right now it looks like Gellar was working alone, and we’re here because we have orders to follow.”  
    “Bullshit,” Brad said. “Perverts like Gellar are always jacking each other off in chat rooms. I’m sure he’s been bragging about what he’s done. That means others are right behind him.”  
    “Stop obsessing about what we’re not doing, and get your mind on what we have to do now, OK?”  
    “Fine,” Brad mumbled, “but it’s not like anyone’s giving us answers, or has any. Old people are horny, too; mystery solved.”  
    It was true. In the last two hours no one had seemed able to remember a single thing, at least nothing of use. None of the Shady Palms residents or outside friends in attendance at the Goldblatt anniversary party remembered a thing. All seemed surprised, most shocked, and some heart attack adjacent.  
    “So far,” Courtney agreed, “which is why I think it’s time we move from guests to staff. Whether this is a police issue or not, it’s our issue now. So let’s find some answers and start by sharpening our attitudes.”
    “My attitude is fine,” Brad grumbled, even though it wasn’t. He wanted to trade the Shady Palms for any one of South Florida’s 23,945 strip clubs, preferably with Courtney, though if she wasn’t willing he was game without her.  
    They started interviewing wait staff. Fifty-four minutes later Brad was interviewing the final one, asking if the kid — who barely looked older than 16 — had noticed anyone at the party taking any drugs, other than Viagra, of course, which Brad assumed everyone must have been chewing like sunflower seeds.
    “No, I didn’t see anything like that,” the tall and gangly, pimple-faced kid said as his Adam’s apple bounced up and down. “It was a quiet group, up until the end, of course. That’s when Ricky Johnson ran into the back and grabbed his camera. Sh ... I mean, stuff was getting out of control.”  
    “And you have no idea what precipitated the shift?”