
Message-ID: <55663asstr$1177135804@assm.asstr.org>
From: Russell Hoisington <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} RP GSN29 - Girl Scout Lezzies {Franz Kafka}(humour, Mf, ff implied, mmm implied, political?, no best)
Lines: 406
Date: Sat, 21 Apr 2007 02:10:04 -0400
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Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

===================


                   Girl Scout Nookies 29
                     Girl Scout Lezzies


                     Girl Scout Lezzies
                        Franz Kafka

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

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 29.

Sex, politics, and protest-the barkeep strikes again.

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

Comments

This attempt to write a story was partly inspired by a
feeback comment to the Girl Scout Nookies collection
webpage. Aside from its sexual content the following text
may offend you because of its political incorrectness,
though the story is more or less on-topic. The story also
has a slightly political content, therefore it is coded
'political', what certainly causes an increasement in
readership/feedback.

If you're under 18, go away (or avoid to get caught in the
act). Void to all fuckwits in Washington, at the FBI, and
elsewhere. If you're a Taliban or living in Iran, Iraq, or
other areas in the world, in which an open mind is
unappreciated, go to your local prayer and please him for
punishment. All my other standard disclaimers apply as
well: Protect yourself. Ever use a condom. Never trust a
stranger. Don't use drugs. Don't smoke. Don't drink and
drive. Don't drink anyway. Don't play silly plays. Don't
fool around. Stay at home. Die from boredom.

(c) 2006 FranzKafka79. All rights reserved. May be
archived at ASSM.

The right to archive this story attempt on the GSN
collection website is explicitly granted. This text is a
parody. As a result, similarities to real persons aren't
totally coincidental but thoroughly intended.

http://www.geocities.com/franzkafka79/stories.html

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

As usual I visited the Red 5 club. It was right before the
weekend. My girlfriend was away to an convention in Prague
and won't return until Sunday afternoon. My alternative
schedule was, that I won't return home until Sunday
afternoon as well, going out into the club, which was
opened 24/7. I intended to get drunken. Life was good.

The bar keeper still was stupid (it was the same, who
bought the thesaurus from the gay boy scouts some months
ago. (You see, that the cited reader's feedback isn't
completely correct.) That was in the spring, but now it was
a terrible fall, the days became shorter and shorter and
the winter was ahead.

I ordered a whisky. "Jameson, please!"

"I don't believe that Jenna Jameson will dance tonight..."

Nope. If she was here, certainly the bar would be so
crowded, that the owner could afford a better keeper.

I poured the drink down fastly and ordered another. Deeply
I inhaled the air in the club. I smelled a mixture of
Marlboro and Maryjane. Life was good.

Soon I ordered the next and the overnext drink.

For a while I talked to the woman who sat on a chair on my
right. She was plump, so I ordered yet another whisky.
Well, against all odds, she didn't turn into a gorgeous
woman with knock-out knockers, even the fifth drink didn't
changet that.

"What'sa ya name?" she said, tongue-tied from the
alco...ho-ho-how-doyado... alcohol.

She smiled at me. Did she try to hook me up? Oh my dear!
Life wasn't the best, tonight.

"I am Mickey Mouse," I said. She was pissed and turned
away. Life was still good.

Suddenly, the door opened and three girl scouts entered
the club. Definitely they were underage, but not under the
law and definitely their scout uniforms were more sexy than
usual. It was a pity, that I had left my new cell phone
with the built-in digital camera at home, otherwise I could
have sent some pictures to Kenny. They were even nicer than
the three girl scouts I met and fucked in an almost insane
debauchery several months ago. When I met Radka, Vladka,
and Katka I came in contact with the cookie selling
movement for the first time in my life. Whatsayaname on my
right was forgotten the same nanosecond the girls sat down
on a table behind me.

After the barkeeper took their orders--three double
vodkas--he didn't bother if they were allowed to drink or
not--as usual. They poured down the drinks in a glance and
two of them went for the restroom. Actually, it was the
blonde and the redhead. The blackhaired stayed alone at the
table. She was the prettiest of them and had piercing blue
eyes. She looked like a body double for the porn actress
Tania Russof, who was famous almost as many years back as
my company had ordered me into this almost forgotten corner
of the world. If you know this actrice, you will
understand, that I was stunned.

The two girls didn't return for a while and the blue-eyed
raven-haired made eye-contact with me. I smiled and ordered
her another drink. She stood up, approached, and cheered up
her glass of vodka with my whisky.

"Thank you for buying me a drink. By the way, I am Marina
and my friends are Darina and Karina."

"Karina is the red-head?" I asked.

She nodded. "How did you figure it out?"

"I didn't. It was only a shot into the dark. Nice to meet
you, Marina. What are you doing here, you and your friends?"

"We're collecting funds for charity."

"Sorry, my dear, I don't need a Thesaurus and this stupid
bar keeper already bought one, when Karel, Havel, and Pavel
mad their visit."

"Oh, the queers!" she laughed.

"Yep. You know them?"

Marina laughed again. "Yes, who won't know them. Do you
know that they got busted?"

"Did Mr. Gamera finally sue them for copyright
infringement?" I asked.

She shooked her head. "No. They got arrested in Crawford,
Texas, while collecting money for Dubya."

"Who would do so," I wondered, "I mean I won't do it, but
I don't see a problem in fund-raising in general. What
they've been accused for? Fraud?"

"No. Obscenity. You know, War on Porn."

My eyes widened.

She continued. "Actually, they were dressed as..."

"Girl scouts?"

"Worse! They dressed up as sexy Texas college
cheerleaders! They dressed high-heeled boots and the
skimpiest cheerleader uniforms they could find. They shaved
their legs. They even stuffed the cups of their bras with
toilet paper."

"That's really pervert," I stated, reminding how I had
surprised them in the restroom, fucking and sucking each
other.

When we poured down the next round of drinks, I
discovered, that Marina didn't stuff her cups. That was
evident. As far as I was able to peek south, she didn't
wear any bra. Life was good.

"Not at all. Obscenity actually occured only, when the
local congress critter got involved. He grabbed all three
of them on their ass and pushed his hand up-skirt. It was
he, who made it a scandal. Discovering, that Pavel, Havel,
and Karel had cocks between their legs instead of cunts,
made him crying for the authorities. Though, he hasn't
thought about the local AP representative. She made the
news its way to CNN and Court TV quick."

"That sucks!"

"Nope! Any of them sucked the congress man, but he licked
someone's ass in Washington. His contact talked certainly
to Mr. Woodward, who talked to Mr. Rove and soon it was
spreaded over the West Wing into the Oval Office. Who
knows, what else got spreaded with the news. For what I
know, the congress man went nuts only because of a red
rose."

"A red rose? Would a normally educated man who passes the
Miller Test go nuts because of a red rose?"

"Obviously he did," Marina said. "Maybe he was a queer
himself." She shrugged.

"Most certainly," I concluded and the girl changed the
subject of our conversation.

"So Pavel, Karel, and Havel acted weird, when they were
here?"

"It was pretty weird, what they did in the rest-room." I
don't know why, but after Marina told me, that her birthday
was January 10th, I lost any hesitations, forgot
Shakespeare and the merchant, who visited me earlier that
day. I went over the rubicon. "Do you wanna fuck with me
all night long, tomorrow, and also Sunday morning?"

"Do you think you're good enough? Do you have enough
Viagra?" she giggled.

"No need. This is a sex story and, I am the writer. So I
can have as much stamina as I need for handling all sex
scenes in the stories. By the way, I am Franz."

"Hold on--you are Mr. Kafka, the well-known writer, who
brought the Red 5 stories to the world?" she called out
enthusiastically, with her eyes wide shut in disbelief.

I didn't consider my writing as so outstanding, but who I
was to turn a fan down? Nope!

I simply nodded. Marina wasn't offended and I hoped, she
would act like a rock star groupie, giving me a blowjob now
and here and join me for the rest of the weekend. Life was
good. Well, at least, until my girlfriend returned and I
had to throw Marina out of the flat. Sunday afternoon.

"I read all your reviews of Mr. Scipio's Summer Camp," she
said, leaning forward, showing off her cleavage. She wasn't
Pamela Anderson, but what I saw was impressive enough for
letting my cock itch. My treacherous organ was ready to
fuck this lovely young lady. It was ready to intrude her
hot wet love tunnel, banging her like crazy, getting her
ready, when I was hitting her g-spot.

Watching into her gleaming eyes was like snoring a line
and waves of heat went through my body. My mind began to
fly away, taking her with me into my love nest, doing all
the obscene things, which are described in those nasty
stories at the ASSTR archive, over and over. I would tie
her up, spank her ass, and put her into rubber, while she
was begging for more and more. I would use all her
orifices, would spurt my cum into her pussy, up her ass,
and down her throat.

"So you are the fanatic sex-addict, fucking all the girls
in this bar," she continued and jumped up. "That's amazing.
May I come with you and fuck your brains out of you?"

She was fast, but I had hoped it. I didn't expect it going
so quick and so easy. Soon Marina and I were kissing. My
hands were fondling her boobs. She throbbed my cock through
the trousers. My fingers were on target, searching her
nipples and her lower lips. Our tongues wrestled with each
other, pretending hot oral sex, drizzling cum, the whole
stuff of stroke as stroke can in adult stories. In my mind
I saw my cock, twice bigger as it was in reality and much
harder than ever. I was piercing her most private parts and
shooting my seed into her fertile womb. I had condoms in
stock, so I won't get her pregnant, if I didn't want to do
so. I wasn't Homer Vargas, so that wasn't planned, but shit
can happen.

Fucking the whore, drilling the pussy of this slut,
shoving my cock into her ass, pushing it down her throat,
making her gag on my cock, and cumming on her face with my
amazing cum, that was my desire. We would have an
everlasting sexparty--until Sunday.

Though, my face expressed my concerns. I wondered about
Marina's friends, who had left for the restroom, and were
missed for some 18 minutes.

"What about Darina and Karina?" I asked.

"Oh don't worry. Karina and Darina are old enough ... they
won't mind." Her voice was husky now, proposing hot steamy
sex. She talked to me like Marilyn in Rick's American Bar
to Philip Marlowe. Play it again Jim, like in that night in
Bangkok, when El Cid met Cleopatra. Was that the beginning
of a great friendship? Life was good.

"Let's leave." Marina's eyes sparkled now at me.

I was reluctant to deny her wish! I stood up, not
bothering with the hard-on in my trousers, which must have
been visible for the other guests, Whatsayaname, and the
barkeeper.

Marina smiled to him. "May I leave this fund-raising forms
here?" she said, rolling her eyes in a way, which could
melt ice in hell. She left a pile of paper on the desk. "We
have to collect 30,000 dollars to bail out our boy scout
friends."

"Off course, young lady. I even would buy a thesaurus, or
whatever you offer." He was really stupid. Very stupid.

"A thesaurus?" Marina asked.

"Yes," the keeper answered, as I gave him two-thousand
crowns. It was too much money--what she had ordered,
couldn't be 287 crowns and each set of Jameson and Coke
made seventy-nine--I had seven, so altogether it was 998
crowns. He got tipped with what was the equivalent of
almost 40 dollars--more than he deserved in a month. But I
didn't care. Life was good.

"Girl scouts are selling thesauruses to geeks and
barkeepers. As a compensation, they give free blowjobs," he
continued.

"There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Blowjob", I
interupted, but the keeper didn't notice me and continued.

"Off course, there is!" he protested. "All moderators of
ASSM get them twice per week. It's done by Sara, who is
serving there. Except for Ruj Jorge, who is a soccer player
at Benfica Porto or FC Lisbon in his real life, I don't
remember. And, one of the main columnists of ASSD, Mr.
Gamera, once said, you shouldn't hecate a second to buy a
thesaurus. Otherwise you loose the chance to get a free
blowjob or to be fucked by a girl scout. Also you're going
high risk, that the girls will hit you with a hard-core
edition of Frank Downey's Complete Works."

The urge in me to hit him with such a hard-cover edition,
if it ad existed, grew from second to second. It was time
to get out of this crazy club!

Marina asked him, "how can you know all these things?"

"I read it. Alexis in Kamchatka and Gary Lebanon discussed
it in the usenet. There is also another writer from
downunder, Mr. Dogzmarek, who is very active. Mr. Spock,
who is one of the most frequent posters to
fbi.sex.stories.moderated, even wrote stories about
Goldilocks." I couldn't believe what I heard.

The barkeeper's face was very earnest, when he continued.
"I believe, that also Donald Rumsfeld, who works in the
Pendragon in Washington, has bought a thesaurus. Certainly
he sometimes is using it. Otherwise, how could he have
found out about the lame duck! How would he know, that WMD
is a short for 'Dubya means danger'. Just for the record,
Mr. Bush hasn't bought any and that get him into problems.
Heck, that's the reason, why he didn't know about Carlito's
way and why he nominated him as a new judge for the
Superbowl Court. He didn't want to fight with the King
Kong, to free Jane, when she was captured by Tarzan, who
forced her to pose with the GIs, sitting with that helmet
aside the artillery. He rather joined the National Guard,
because he wanted to invade Iraq. That was a good idea,
because with this decision, he made it easier for Saddam
Bin Ladin, to hide all the weapons in Hanoi. Anyway, if Mr.
Bush had a thesaurus handy, Monica Strawinski wouldn't have
told about her blue dress to Linda Loverlace, but reported
directly to Bob Woodward."

He was even more stupid than I could have imagined in my
most terrible nightmares. Within one sentence he messed up
history and politics of at least three decades and his
grammar was terrible to understand. I guess, this barkeeper
would buy cookies even by men in black. Anyway, it was time
to fade away, time to leave like a F4, taking the sex
kitten into my bed like a deserted slave. It never rains in
Southern California, but it was time to get my cock in
action and the custom-made glass dildo my girlfriend left
behind.

"Won't we have to tell Darina and Karina?" I asked,
turning to Marina.

"They're grown up enough for fucking their way home on
their own," she answered. "You won't have any joy with
them. Karina is a lezzie and Darina doesn't mind. Let's
go." Whatsayaname shot a dirty view at me, when Marina and
I hooked our arms. Life was good.

The last thing I heard, when we left, was the keeper's
voice. "I thought, that Lassie was a collie. I must get her
autograph!"

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

Copyright Franz Kafka79 2006

--
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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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