
Message-ID: <55478asstr$1174716603@assm.asstr.org>
From: Russell Hoisington <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} RP GSN01 - Girl Scout Nookies-Aliens {Vivian Darkbloom} (Mgg)
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Date: Sat, 24 Mar 2007 02:10:03 -0400
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===================


                   Girl Scout Nookies 01
                 Girl Scout Nookies-Aliens


                 Girl Scout Nookies-Aliens
                  Originally published as
             The Invasion of the Bawdy Snatches

                      Vivian Darkbloom

************************************************************

Welcome to the Girl Scout Nookie story collection.  In
honor of the Girl Scout Cookie season, this collection is
being reposted in the story order sequence we used in the
Girl Scout Nookie Collection story site at

    http://www.asstr.org/~denny/

This is story number 01.

No, really.  It is.  I accidentally posted GSN02 as GSN01
last night, and that's why you'll see two different
stories listed as GSN 01.  The following will explain it.

Maybe.

This was actually the seventh GSN story posted, but in
order of original chronological publication, this story is
next because it is a renamed story that predates Kenny's
"Girl Scout Nookie Sale".  Allow me to explain.

When Kenny received unwarranted praise and acclaim for
"GSN Sale," other writers realized Kenny had blindly
stumbled into a gold mine and immediately ripped off...
that is to say, they built upon both Kenny's latest idea
and the ideas of each other. Vivian Darkbloom noticed the
sudden influx of what had become known as "The GSN Stories"
and retitled and reposted her 2004 story, "The Invasion of
the Bawdy Snatches," which caused some less-than-charitable
individuals to accuse Kenny of ripping off Vivian as well
as himself.

************************************************************

Usually I skip CBS on the channel-surf, now that they've
demonstrated conclusively that you just can't get good porn
there. But this time as I was skipping by, my thumb slipped.

"...We really have to do something about these aliens."
The caption underneath announced some semi-famous religious
icon whose name I have forgotten, along with the subtitle
'Sexually abused by aliens.'

Now that sounded promising.

"Dragging our hapless youth into sinfulness. Mind you,
they don't look anything out of the ordinary. In
appearance, they resembled innocent young girls, about age
9 or 10. But filled with sin."

"Could you be more explicit about the sin?" prodded the
interviewer. "As I recall, there were 7 deadly ones, if you
don't count 'not recycling your bottles and cans.' Were
they slothful? Are you telling me they slept the entire
time?"

"Nay, man. It was the sin of..." he lowered his voice to a
near whisper: "...Lust!"

The interviewer shook his head slightly. "Yet you say the
appeared to be innocent young girls, age 9 or 10.

"True," replied the preacher, "but, mind you, then they
took me out to their space-ship and what followed was-" he
shook his head. "simply unspeakable."

The interviewer smiled. "Could you tell us more?"

The preacher growled indignantly: "Did you hear me man? I
said it was unspeakable. That means, cannot be spoken
about, cannot be told more about, et cetera ad libatum."

"Well, is there any chance you could be a little less
literal then?"

"Less literal? What do you take me for, man? I'm a
preacher. Say I decided to be less literal about the story
of Genesis. Suddenly 'boom,' I'm branded as a Darwinist.
Sales would plummet. The fabric of society would come apart
at the seams! ..."

Bam! Bam! Bam! Someone at the door. Oh Hell, I thought.
"Just a minute!" I called out.

I opened the front door to two young girl-scouts, aged
about 9 or 10. Only the writing on their badges appeared to
be in Klingon. Great, just what we need: trekkie girl-
scouts.

"Excuse me sir, but would you like to buy some girl-scout
cookies?"

They were a cute pair, both dressed in the classic Junior-
Scout Green, white shirt, green skirt (too short in both
cases) and green sash. One was a fair-skinned blonde with
long straight hair, the other dark-skinned of vague
ethnicity, her long curls tumbling lusciously down her
shoulders and back like an ebony waterfall, moist coal-
black eyes sweetly burning into my soul.

"Sorry, gave at the office. Don't have any money. Some
other time. Bye!"

"Wait!" said the blonde, as I was about to slam the door.

My next-door neighbor Lydia strolled by on the sidewalk
behind them. 19-year-old lesbian, always having parties
next door with dozens (it seemed like) of young girls.
Wearing sunglasses and semi-short dark hair in a black
headband to offset her red mini-skirt and platform shoes.

Seeing my predicament, she raised her eyebrows. "Got a
couple of hotties?" she called out as she disappeared
around the corner, "Bet you'll enjoy their cookies!"

The girl-scouts conversed briefly in Norwegian. "Please?"
they both looked up at me with irresistible ET/puppy-dog
eyes.

"Look," I said, irritated. "I was in the middle of
watching TV," I glanced around anxiously at the muted
flickering tube.

They conversed briefly again in Norwegian. "We do not
require money. Only sustenance."

"Sustenance?"

"Can we come in?" As they brushed by me through the open
door, each one innocently bumped her soft shoulder directly
against the front of my trousers.

(Bump.) Hmm. (Bump.) Hmmmmmmmmm.

They closed the door behind them. "We have a confession,"
said the dark one.

"Yes, we are not in fact girl-scouts, but travelers from
the planet of Riga in the galaxy of Andromeda. Our vacation-
guide said that you would find this costume pleasing."

She whipped out a PDA, one of these newer models with full
color 3-D holographic projecting capability, telepathic
user-interface, and so on. I think Sony makes them, but the
damn trekkies had pasted over the brand label with
something in Klingon.

She was projecting images into the corner of the hallway.
First, of the earth, which rotated 360 degrees, then
zooming into a closer shot of the various continents,
demarcated with lines for the countries, as an atlas.
Finally, a life-size image of the girl-scout uniform
appeared in the corner, and it swiveled around for a rear
view.

"For sustenance, our equipment is able to replicate all of
the substances our bodies require, save one."

The blonde continued: "The only place where this substance
is known to occur is in the sperm of the human male."

The 3-D holographic projection had shifted to display a
complex molecular diagram.

I laughed out loud. "I swear, you girl-scouts will do
anything to sell a box of cookies these days."

They looked at me blankly. "You do not believe that we are
from another planet?"

"Heck no. For starters, where's your bloomin' flying
saucer?"

She punched a few buttons on the PDA, and it displayed an
aerial shot of our neighborhood. "We decided that your back
yard was the superior location in this vicinity for
concealment."

"Whoa, now. Watch what you say about my back yard. OK, so
I haven't mown the lawn in a while. But everything is under
control, understand?"

The blonde blinked at me. "Would you like to see our ship?"

"Hell, yeah."

"Then just walk out into your back yard."

"OK, that does it." I strode angrily through to the back
of the house, to the back door, and turned the knob, and
pulled. Nothing happened. Well, maybe the few tendrils of
vines had made the thing a bit sticky. I pulled harder. I
put my foot up on the door-jamb and pulled with all of my
might. OK, so a LOT of tendrils had sealed the thing
totally shut.

The girls, who had followed me, stood there watching
curiously. "May I?" gestured the dark one with her PDA.

I nodded slightly.

"Stand back," she warned, and I did.

A ray of orange photonic laser-light burst from the PDA
and seared the air for several seconds. When it was gone,
the black wisps of plant-smelling smoke trailed in the air.

"Whoa, you should be careful with that thing. I swear,
kids nowadays. When I was your age, I was happy with a
simple penknife..."

She gave me a look. "When you were my age? I am 90 years
old by your earth-years."

"Yeah right, that story again." I tried the door again,
and it swung open gently, to reveal a wild raging savage
jungle of biodiversity, tangled vines, lush green trees,
wild animals. I though I caught the glimpse of a Bengalese
tiger, but it vanished in the shadows.

"Hey look. I used to have a lawn out here. And wow,
There's my old soccer ball! Needs a little pumping up, I'd
say." I picked up the flattened, cracked, black-and-white
moss-encrusted plastic pancake, and four or five scorpions
and a millipede that had been living beneath it scuttled
off into the underbrush.

"Yep," I said. "just pump that baby up, it'll be as good
as new."

"Would you like to see our ship?" asked the blonde.

"Yeah right. This I'd like to see. You girl scouts will
say just about anything to sell a box of cookies. OK, where
is this ship?"

Without a word, she cut forth with another blast from the
PDA-laser device, and a swath of green disintegrated,
revealing the contours of a dark metal saucer-shaped
object, large enough to hold several people. The entire
surface was covered with complex patterns of tubing and
Klingon writing.

"Hey, you can't fool me," I said. "That's just my old
barbecue."

She sighed with genuine exasperation, and flicked a switch
on her PDA. A circular hatch swung open on the side of the
saucer, revealing a dazzling multicolored array of knobs,
dials, switches, and blinking lights and displays.

This caught me by surprise. I could have sworn they were
just trying to sell cookies, and believe me I've seen what
those girl-scouts will do to sell cookies.

"Cool! Can I have a ride in it?"

The blonde rolled her eyes.

"First," said the dark one, "we require sustenance."

"Sustenance. Human sperm. Well," I looked down, glumly.

"What is it?" asked the blonde. "What's wrong?"

"It's just that ... before we engage in sexual activity,"
I said, "I feel like I should know your names. I want it to
be all proper and everything."

"Of course. My name is ..." followed by a long string of
bizarre syllables, many of which I am incapable of
pronouncing. "and this is ... " another long stream of such
syllables.

"Well, that's a bit unwieldy," I replied.

"I know! You could give us names. Earth-names."

"You could baptize us!"

"Well, I was planning to, in a minute. But before that."

"No, no, silly. Baptize us by giving us names! Haven't you
ever been baptized?"

"Well, no."

The dark-haired pulled out her mega-PDA again, flipping
through meta-pages. "On this planet, they baptize via
infusion, immersion, or sprinkling. Infusion means
'pouring.' Sometimes immersion into a river or the ocean."

"Isn't ejaculation in there somewhere?"

"Moistening what is dry," said the blonde. "I think we
could handle that," she said, absently digging the heel of
her hand into her crotch.

"I thought they fucked you in the asshole, but maybe
that's just for the boys," I added.

Both girls smiled and exchanged raised eyebrows. "That
sounds fun. But later. What are our names?"

"Oh jeez. How about ... Carmella," I pointed to the dark-
haired one. "And, Vanilla," I pointed to the blonde.

"Beautiful," said the soon-to-be Vanilla. "On our planet,
we baptize with a single gentle kiss on the forehead."

"French?" I asked.

"FORE-HEAD, GENTLE, don't you listen?"

"Yes, yes of course. So what do I say?"

"Make something up. Go on." They both got down onto their
knees and looked down solemnly.

Good grief, I thought. "By the grace of the Holy Buddha,
the Great Oz and various other subdeities, I invoke and
arouse the Ominous Chartreuse Spirit of the Almighty and
the forces of the seven chakras, the seven chocolates, and
the seven dwarf-nymphets in congenial and otherwise
pleasant ways to the ends of affixing to each your
respective names to your cute little fannies; namely:"

"Carmella," (gentle, loving kiss) and

"Vanilla." (gentle, loving kiss).

"That was beautiful," said Vanilla, wistfully. "OK, let's
have sex."

I later discovered that the phrase used on Riga as "hello"
roughly translates to "OK, let's have sex," keeping in mind
that Rigans are entirely a race of females, which is why
they often travel to other galaxies for varietal
entertainment.

"Sex? Hey," I said. "I thought it was just for sustenance.
Sa-a-ay, how do I know this isn't just an excuse to conduct
wild unbridled kinky bizarre sexual experimentation on
humans?"

They both hung their heads guiltily, looking up at me with
sad ET/puppy-dog eyes, standing there in silence...

I exploded. "Well I didn't say to stop, did I?"

"OK." Faster than a speeding submarine, Vanilla had my
jeans unfastened, whipped out my hose and commenced on
hungrily chomping away, hands busily probing and stroking
in all the right spots, sending moirÃ(C) shivers of ecstatic
energy up and down my spine. The hose rapidly turned into a
spear, a cruise missile...

"Whoa, don't just stand on ceremony or anything," I said.
"Whoa, oha, oh, you're very good at that, you know? Have
you lots of experience?"

Pausing briefly with a little slurpy-sucking noise,
"Never," she replied. "Our travel guide gave explicit
directions." She continued voraciously.

"Oh, oha, oh, you know, they should publish that thing on
this planet."

"Does it distract you to have me watching?" asked Carmella.

"Oh no. Don't go away. In fact..."

Vanilla was pulling me down onto the lush, silky-soft
carpeting of herbiage that had once been my lawn. Now I was
on my knees.

"In fact, if you could come over here so I could see
what's underneath that skirt..."

"Would you like me to take off my clothes?

"No, no, not yet. Who, oho. oho. Vanilla, that's very
distracting."

"Thank you," she mumbled, mouth full.

"In fact," I added, "the outfit is a nice touch."

Carmella curtsied. "Why thank you. It was my idea.

"I like the way you think. Just come over here for a sec.
What have you got under that skirt, anyway?"

She smiled, moseying over. The sparkling mystery behind
those dark beautiful eyes burned into my soul. "I don't
think you'll be disappointed," she whispered.

Vanilla had me nearly horizontal by now, and Carmella sat
down in front of me, still smiling. "Would you like to
see?" asked Carmella, as she spread her thin, delicate
legs, and pulled up her dress, thrusting her pantied crotch
towards my face. The intoxicating aroma washed over my mind
like laundry detergent, the enragingly sweet smell driving
a crown of thorns into my ecstatically longing yearning to
explode in the face of the sweet young girl who had me in
her mouth.

"Oh, oha, hoa, oh,"

"Try this," said Carmella, quietly, ebony curls cascading.
Her gentle girl-soft dark skin glowed with an aura colored
lightning energy-turquoise as she reached gently down and
placed her tiny cute little delicate fingertips on my
forehead. My mind sensed a jolt, like a wheel suddenly
engaged, starting to spin. My vision burst into fractured-
glass shards of white light.

"Our minds are now one," she said. "our feelings melded.
Our passions shared. What I feel, you feel. What you feel,
I feel."

"Really," inside the depths of my mind, I could sense the
turnings of her thoughts.

"Touch me," she implored.

I reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the tip of
my index fingernail, and with tingling immediacy I felt a
finger stroking my own cheek...

"Yes," she said, "Our sensations are now combined." She
ran her fingers gently through my hair.

I did likewise, fingers eagerly palpating each tiny strand
of her soft beautiful black curls.

She must be feeling the sensation of Vanilla, coaxing my
throbbing spear to orgasm. Reading my mind, she nodded
'yes' in answer, moaning gently, rocking her pelvis as if
she were having sex.

I looked down at Vanilla, my eyes tracing the gentle
contour of her tiny face, her silky long blonde eyelashes,
her soft moist thin red lips encircling my organ, making
little slurping noises.

I reached up and kissed her lips. Ultimate intensity.
Breathless, heart pounding, her beautiful face flush with
excitement. As I lowered my face towards her crotch, her
pelvis writhed in suppressed anticipation. Eagerly, she
lifted her dress once more, and thrust her pantied crotch
to my mouth. I bit, gently, and she moaned. I felt
everything she did, and she lovingly held my head in her
elegant tiny hands as I drew the waistband of her panties
down, gradually revealing the tiny chocolate rose, dainty
and dripping, aroma assaulting my nostrils with prodding
fiery ground glass of yearning. Perfectly smooth, not a
trace of hair anywhere, the vagina of an 8-year-old.

Slowly my tongue reached toward the soft, smooth recesses,
and the contact sent sparks of shuddering electrical waves
connecting to Vanilla's tongue relentlessly caressing and
kissing my glans.

I grasped Carmella's thighs, a thumb each on the inside of
her thin, beautiful dark legs, as I commenced to lovingly
kiss and prod and cajole her sweet pearl of joy. She tasted
every bit as wonderful as she smelled, and my brain melted
with the dueling sensation of how she felt my tongue on her
and Vanilla's tongue on me...

"Pretty intense," I commented, "this mind-meld."

"Yeah," she said. "helps avoid the situation where
somebody's down there slurpin' away but it just ain't
turnin' you on."

"Everythings OK today, I hope?"

Carmella grinned. "You bet. Anyway, just as long as I get
my sustenance, I'll be happy."

I was puzzled. "Except, I'll be coming in Vanilla's mouth,"

"Don't worry," said Carmella, "we can share."

I went back to kissing her love-spot again, waves of
orgasmic energy building and falling like the to and fro of
a young girl on a swing.

From the corner of my eye, I saw an eyeball in the center
of a knothole on Lydia's side of the fence. A hushed
whisper : "Hey, check it out. The guy next door is getting
it on with a couple of girl scouts. Cool!" More nervous
giggles.

In the heat of melting synapses, I lost all orientation
with reality, and found myself believing that these two
girls were actually girl scouts trying to sell me cookies,
invited in on a dare, exploring the secret naughtiness of
the dirty deed, crossing the forbidden boundary, boldly
coming where no girl had come before...

As I coaxed Carmella's body to orgasm, she came willingly
and tenderly into my mouth, and I felt the sensation of her
orgasm pulsing through my own body.

The swirl of blonde hair at my belly button and the
caramel and vanilla spiral of sensuous heat and sweetness
and longing reached its fiery cherry-red yearning to
release, and release it did, as my orgasm erupted, Vanilla
lovingly held my sensitive balls and cannon, meticulously
capturing every molten drop....

"ah - ah - ah - ah - ah - ah - ahhh......"

As I collapsed in blissful exhaustion, Carmella knelt
down, Vanilla reached up, and they shared a long kiss, as
Carmella sucked my juices lovingly from Vanillas mouth,
savoring, luxuriating in the rich salty sweetness.

I got to thinking, now, girls scouts wouldn't probably
smoke after sex, so what....

Vanilla reached into her bag and pulled out a brown disk,
which she offered to me. "Thin mint?"

************************************************************

Copyright Vivian Darkbloom 2004

--
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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