Kenny Gamera wrote a story which started the
Girl Scout story flood.

It are more than twenty stories by totally different writers with different writing styles. There are many good ones (like those from Mr. Gamera or Mr. Hoisington and some very bad ones — one of the latter sort you are getting to read here, so escape if you can.

This text is a parody. Similarities to real persons aren't totally coincidental and are intended.

This page contains the unedit version.
I hope to make the update soon. Check in a few days!

This attempt to write a story was partly inspired by a feedback 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.

From anonymouse reader's feedback to the GSN website:

Ok, you've got M/F+, M/g+, and M/f+. But no one thought about b/F+ or m/F+?
Has anyone mentioned these ideas? I know, GSN is based on girl scouts, but after all, women do go out and try to raise for charities. Also, you can't tell me no one thought about how George Bush's supporters COULD have raised all that money.

Dear Anonymouse,

If I was Frank McCoy, I would tell you a story about three girl scout mommies, searching for their girl scout kiddies and accidently finding out, that Kevin was alone at home. They would seduce him with cookies, so he opens the door, lets them in, and soon he would get fucked until the end of the story. See, on the other hand, this story won't tell you, how Dubya's supporters have raised all the money, so I will tell you rather another one.

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 on 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 Libanon 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!"