The Space Noir Bar, Michael Marino [people reading books txt] 📗

have a go with a steamy Socialist from Slovenia but a vagina from the Volga gave a command performance.

 

The Global Galactic Communist lover of my century does it for the party, so party on! Your hammer and her sickle could make for some red banner red star non-Tsar sex one of the most exciting experiences since East Germans tried to breach the Berlin Wall to freedom in the old days. The Communist girl of today will also use protection..red star sponges of course to block the little infiltrators from scoring a hit in the Motherland. Sometimes she will not use protection and will let the little sperm defect to the other side...so don’t get stalled in Stalingrad..keep pushing...Now that is how you fuck a communist.

 

Asrini was a covert agent during the Lesbos Uprising, and a damned good one too and brought the lesbians to their knees. Not surprising, as this red babe was as red hot as a comet and she had the tail to prove it. The revolution was soon put down over and she returned to her home base famous as the Vixen of the Volga before heading across the Bering Straits, the land bridge from Asia to the West to her ancestral home of what was once Canada. Her mother was Asian and her father an Eskimo. They both met and banged in Banff and Asrini was the pleasant placenta wrapped result. With her background and contacts and fame, I wondered as I stared into my broken mirror where I kept all the images of my broken dreams...why did she need me to help her find her sister? The plot thickened faster than coagulating blood from a head wound from a .38.

 

Asrini, my Com-Red Asia-kimo client was rich, famous and sexy and could give Lenin a hard-on as he lay in state (yes, he’s still there!) and lets face it. I wanted to find her G spot tucked away in her Red Square..I found my Com-red in a closet..in the 20th Century you had to search to find red star gold star vagina in places like Vietnam….North Korea...China...or Cuba...oh...or Madison, Wisconsin...Sex Workers of the World..UNITE! The next time you run into a commie bombshell..don’t say Fuck You….say it loud and say it proud...FUCK ME!!!.

 

 

Chapter Four - The Comred in Bed

 

As a student of pre-galactic conflicts of the years before the Great Neutron War, I read about the so called “cold war” of ideologies and the tug of war for the hearts and minds of people. Flashback to the archaic 20th Century. Interesting space in time to say the least. How could a war be “hot” or “cold” as though you could decide by the turn of spigot by choosing faucet C or faucet H? I guess one global government is the way to go if you put any value on a human life. War eats the young...politics fattens them up for the killing kiln. 

 

Flashback! Reading was legal at that time and Earthlings had a choice in periodicals. Curious word, “periodicals”. It was a terminology for something called magazines and “news” papers..all since terminated as reading material so no longer a need for the terminology.

 

There was an element called the comic strip. One surfaced called called “Spy vs Spy” in a radical thought provoking mag called Mad Magazine.  Unanimouslu amusing by standards of the times was a telly cartoon series about a communist re: Com-Red spy named  Boris (Not Yeltsin) and his sexy, slender thin comrade Com-Red Natasha , two spies who hung out with “moose and squirrel” in a bizarre program called “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show?” What the hell was that all about? A talking moose and a fucking flying squirrel? Talk about pulling a rabbit out of hat!

 

Com-Reds were fallingn out of the closet faster than patrons of a hot to Trotsky gay bar. Ultimately Com-Reds and Captains of Capitalism clashed in battle..two titanium titans doing a tango until only debris was left...and one man standing..The Com-Reds of the East victors who would re-write history and layout the blueprint for the future of Earth.

 

Rini Pemalang, as I learned later, was The Com-Red undercover agent  who plied her trade, you might say combining two of the world’s oldest professions during the recent Lez Erection Insurrection.  As a result she had access to and acquired documented secrets so dangerous to the government that she was in danger of elimination...and after it was too late. Covertly covering her beautiful ass..or so she thought. Her stolen hedge against the future were not assets...in fact they were a liability that threatened to toss her into a tempest she hadn’t forseen. Her handlers knew about the Strip Tease Falcon and now knew she had the documents to prove it’s existence and would be searching for it. He or she who possesses the falcon, controls the powerful mechanical planet Robotia and thereby rule the universe. 

 

I realized now I was in danger as well. Was her sister really kidnapped and taken to Robotia? Did she even have a sister at all? Was this part of a master plan of hers for redemption and escape I had unwittingly been  inserted into like a tampon on a rainy red day? Even menstruation was commie red!

 

It didn’t matter. She had pulled me into her emotional orbit and I couldn’t break free even if I wanted too, and  I didn’t. She was a real dame, class and breeding that could bring the legions of Jupiter to it’s knees. She  was packed, sacked, locked and loaded and was built with the seductive curves found only on  a Venusian  space station and just as powerful as the military might on parade formerly on Mars Angry Red May Day during it’s May Day heyday.

 

Her vagina was her weapon of choice, and what a choice vagina it is. It could make a man give up the  secrets of the solar system in one orgasm as he was held helplessly, and happily as a hymen captive in her vaginal penile penal colony. 

 

Asrini had an ass as perfect as an asteroid with a waxing and waning G-Spot in flux and had now entered the auditorium that controls the high tides of my wet dreams. 

 

Her 5’ 7” frame was fully loaded with sex appeal and equipped with anatomical weaponry including a 35-23-35 figure sporting a 35C Olympic cup, flying saucer large brown eyes and jet black hair. This Com-red was in every enemy bed and the secrets of the Lez Erection spilled like sexual secretions in a cheap by the hour motel.

 

She knew how to seduce and sexually manipulate women and men reducing both genders to ashes. Along with penetrating the dangerous dykes, she managed to infiltrate top secret “foreign” agencies with her pelagic penchant for deep penetration of her orgasmic ocean where her legs parted like the Com-Red Sea and behold! A damn pubic miracle along with her red hot burning bush!
She was the type of person my parents warned me about.

Asrini had a proletarian pedigree that extends back to her father who was working and spying for the Red East Space Center on Ceres 12 during the heat of the Great War. The die was cast, after her graduation from a university in Bejing she was recruited by the secretive entity known only as the Bureau and  began her training in the wiles of the spy trade. After graduation she was planted on Mars to infiltrate the Separatist Movement heating up in the underground on the planet, her target. Her mission gather intelligence and turn it over for analysis to bring the revolt to it’s inevitable end.

It was social networking and her extreme beauty that eventually blew the boudoir doors open of Martian underground society and secrets. She was ready to party for the  party as she jump started the party herself with the eventual overthrow of the Martian rebel movement  clearly in her  pubic cross-hairs.

 

She had a  proclivity for female dominance in the bedroom with her mate cuffed, gagged and bound while teasing and tempting her captive with an ample display of breasts adorned like a Christmas tree with nipple clamp ornaments hanging from her Merry Christmas Mammaries. She probably wore Gestapo boots to accessorize a pair of mistletoe thongs! Happy Holidays indeed!

 

Asrini the Red, was now in the land of the red planet. The Mars Bureau was tipped off and were onto the sexy red zeppelin. She was a spy for all seasons, until her season ended one day when she was arrested by the underground. She cooly and coyly plead “guilty” to all charges leveled against her and departed when she was deported to Earth as part of a prisoner swap. 

 

When she was caught  the Martian rebel authorities did it with big band fanfare which was embarrassing to the Government of Retropolis, but her celebrity preceded her she was now the maximum Martian Maxim material girl and the galaxy  wanted more and more of this glamorous pin-up spy who could melt a glacier on Pluto in under 60 seconds flat!

 

Asrini shot into the media celebrity stratosphere, blazing a comet like trail across the media galaxy. She was the hottest “com-red” heavenly body  in orbit. Retropolin News and entertainment outlets were on a feeding frenzy of what she was wearing, as she was now setting fashion trends and appearing on the cover with a full spread (I won’t go there) in the Saturn version of Maxim Magazine. She was also doing fashion modeling on the runway and ended up with her own Vis-Disc show! Bizarre? Wait! They also came out with Asrini Pemalang Action figures...it figures!

Stocking Stuffers...inflatable Asrini had to be next? Valve Placement? I’d take the real Asrini, but, if I can’t have her, then let’s go action figure Asrini! Now I did have her..or actually she had me in her world.

 

 

Chapter Five - The Day Raymond Burr Ate Tokyo

 

In the morning Asrini and I would fire up my fuel injected booster rocket travel Pod beginning our foray to Robotia in search of the mysteriou Strip Tease Falcon. Urban myth said that the mechanical planet itself, along with it’s race of erotibots was the creation of the scientists of the Planet Toho.  They are the direct descendents with a lineage dating back  the 20th Century creators of a series of Japanese films depicting a mutant atomic lizard known as Gojira/Godzilla! A whole series was made featuring this anti-hero including the lost episode called, “The Day Raymond Burr Ate Tokyo” a highly prized collectible today by