"After my last day on Earth... after my last fucking day on Earth, I could keep communication with Moscow, right?
Right... it was 1989, ok... 1989
then during some time we communicated, communication which was definitely lost in 1990... yeah, fuck them then
or it was 1991..?
Notwithstanding, after that atrociously degrading, exciting, unpredictable and hot time in the planet called... Androgina, I lost my fucking Seiko in the nymphomaniacal vagina of Leia Orgasma... and finally, in 1997, due to the... experiences I lived in that shithole... planet Ruggeri... I lost completely the knowledge or notion about the day, month and, even... year in which I'm fucking living... fuck, FUCK ME
damn... and I still calculated the time during all these years, for what? All my previous annotations were destroyed, and any real notion of... present day for me is... estimative, shit
this is crap, where the fuck I am and what day is this..! How could I lose chronological notion this way!
... Calm... calm. Think.
25 years passed... I know that 25... or 24
or 23... years passed since 1989... I know it! More or less, but there. That's sure. Sure.
And how comes... how comes that a 60 years old man hasn't any grey hair, and I still look exactly like a 30-something years ol... "
An unexpected and soft noise interrupted his cavilations, and Ilya Chechile walked to the window of the rocket to take a look
a piece of space trash rubbed an angle of his motherfucking vehicle, Soyuz
he knew that when space trash appeared, a planetary complex was close, he took a look again through the glass
harder his eyes, penetrating the black celestiality of the astral void... soon, a myriad of pearls appeared in front of his eyes
pearls in the blackness
pearls that formed a community of planetoyds... it was like a sweet pearl necklace of cum on the chest and neck of a woman after a tittyfuck, Chechile stayed observing, ecstatic, saddened, hombre
it was one of the most enigmatic, strangely illuminated... and beautiful images that his mind remembered in the course of his involuntary (or voluntary?) cosmic exile of years.
The light that illumed that pellucid pearl necklace of planetoyds shining in the middle of the blackened cunt of the universe, that light... where it came from?
As the Soyuz came closer and closer to the planetoyds, Chechile saw that they were 19
the biggest one shone with a slightly reddish-white fulgor, it seemed to be the only world of that system that was inhabited, Chechile could be the oval roof of one edifice shining silvery from the distance, as his rocket came closer and closer to that unknow archipelago of small worlds
instinctively, the human part of his hybrid brain oriented the flight of the spaceship toward the biggest, populated planetoyd of the diminutive system, while the artificial cerebral portion compelled him to avoid that place, and fly away
but he ignored that rational suggestion, because his animal side prevailed over the inserted structure.
The landing was unusually soft, and despite he still had combustible enough for several weeks, picking stones in order to distil the rocky juice and produce more fuel was not unnecessary... as he descended from the spacecraft, his boots walked on a crimson terrain all covered in pebbles worn smooth by the hot erosion of that place.
Every now and then, as he walked, some orchid appeared in front of his eyes, an odd species of orchid with glans-like heads that shone with intensely violet hues under the light of a day that seemed to be in its evening on that minuscule planetoyd
planetoyd that was completely unknown for Chechile and, of course, despite he tried to find -at least- a remotely vague clue about it on his mapas del cielo and digital cartography of the cosmos stored in the floppy disks of his almost useless computer, he couldn't find anything at all.
In fact every time Ilya Sofovich Chechile approached a new planet, it was like a blind date of two perfect strangers who meet to fuck in a desert park.
And he was like a blind man who's left alone in the middle of Amazonia in the dark, lost in the physical spacial endlessness, indistinctly so close or so far to any thing without knowing what
like an obsessed psycho surfing the internet at night, forever, searching for something that he or she will never find.
While his stare still was set on the purple-ish and arid splendor of the terrain Chechile heard a childish voice behind him, and turned his back violently to see, while pulled out his gun at the same time determined to shoot whatever it was
in front of his tired eyes, a petite girl all dressed in a green-tight suit of rubber was looking at him... she wore a sort of rubber-green helmet which covered the head in its entirety, the helmet had a luminescent red eye that twinkled mysteriously
unimpressed by the gun pointing at her, she took the rubber helmet off: long threads of peroxide blond and silky hair fell on her shoulders hurt by the crepuscular light
she looked at Ilya Sofovich Chechile with friendly and calm stare. Her appearance was 100% anthropomorphic.
She saluted him using sign langage[sic] and some paragraphs in an unknown agglutinative idiom with abundant click consonants or claquements de langue, similar to the language of the Hottentots and the Bochimans. The voice was very amicable and canorous... after a while Chechile relaxed gradually and stopped pointing at her, but he still was alert and ready for anything
she spoke and moved hands and shoulders, staying alternatively quiet in expectancy, waiting for a reply... in spite of his effort to understand her gestures and sounds, Ilya Sofovich Chechile couldn't get what she was trying to say.
Hesitant, he spoke some words in American English. She heard with attention
her head seemed to process something internally, she put the palm of her right hand on her forehead and stayed silent looking at the bleeding horizon for 2 or 3 minutes. Chechile was immobile and extremely intrigued
suddenly she returned from her trance and looked at the Russian in the eye
-"Hello, who are you?"
She said, with a perfect Kansan accent, or Missourian, maybe, which cut the scarlet air of the extraterrestrial evening with sibilant edge. Her voice had something of gold, or something of chrome
Chechile stayed looking at her stupefied and dumb.
-"Don't you have a name, stranger..?"
She insisted, simple, unreal
Ilya Sofovich Chechile (or Chechyle) opened his mouth slowly, like a senator ot the United States ready to say a new lie during a speech in the Capitol
for some inexplicable reason, something in his head compelled him to make up a fake name, quickly... something...
-"H-hello, ma-mo... m-my name is... is Morlon... Marlon Pitt... "
he said, and looked at her like the douchebag of the year.
-"Hi Marlon Pitt! My name is Impura 1, I live with my... cough... family in this planet, Impur-X! Where are you from, Murlon Pi.. ? Merlot..? Melon..?"
-"Marlon. Marlon Pitt."
Chechile said, correcting her with aplomb
-"I'm from... the Eartf."
He added.
-"What is an Eartf?"
She asked, candid.
-"A distant planetoyd... una concha. The Eartf is un hijo de puta."
Chechile said, mixing English with some Spanish he learnt in school in Leningrad, and spat a piece of the cookie from Androgina that he was chewing.
Because before escaping from Androgina he stole tons of food and drinkable items, like the erogenous Tab, the creamy milk, the noble cheese, the sabroso couscous, or las deliciosas papas fritas, not to mention the cordial baguette.
-"Come with me, Marlon Pete, you look tired."
She said, and invited Chechile to follow her toward the only town-dome of the teeny-weeny planet.
He followed behind, looking at the buttocks swaying under the tight and green rubber suit.
His brain was happily blank, his anguish was gloriously anesthetized, his apprehension was deleted.
Deleted because Ilya Chechile knew that he had nothing to lose, long years ago he knew it
his life was lost, a return to the warm sweetness of the earthly home was a lost cause for good
and despite he couldn't forget, his memories about the Earth were like the memory about a dead relative, totally dry and devoid of the tiniest expectation, hope or prospect, like a person who remembers a brief and trite conversation with a stranger in the bus yesterday, recuerdos nomás.
This is why, despite he was -physiognomically- the same individual, he was not the same at all. His mind was born anew, he was not a Russian anymore, neither a terrícola: he was a citizen of the nothing, someone different to that he used to be, somebody else. And the inhabitants of the Earth were alien to him.
Due to this, Ilya Chechile learnt how to go with the flow and take every situation as is, since that part of the human called the fear was killed in his hybrid cerebral structure.
Killed, not completely though, but at least in an 80 or 90%.
The kilometrage of Impur-X seemed to be very limited, so after 5 or 6 minutes walking they quickly arrived to the city, which was on the antipodes of a planetoyd, that was not bigger than Chicago, or San Francisco, or even smaller.
The size of the city was like the size of a big supermarket, Carrefour or El Corte Inglés.
Chechile and Impura 1 penetrated the gates of the dome, which were ovoid and transparent, she led him to the principal hall because, despite it had some few internal streets, the city was more like a castle than a town.
Impura invited Chechile to sit down, and offered him a succulent dinner, the table was awesomely long, and finely carved, in the fashion of the retable of certain churches, and it had blue penises of quartz intagliated in the wood.
Chechile accepted the dinner of course, although he wasn't really hungry, what he really had was... a boner
he had a persistent erection he acquired looking at the buttocks of Impura 1 during the walk, and despite he slapped the damm thing to calm the aroused phallic tissues, the fleshy happiness returned, harder than before, on and on.
Impura brought a large plate full of cannelloni alla Rossini, and a bottle of Amargo Obrero:
-"I hope you'll like it, we ate it today and it was great."
Chechile picked a big piece of the smokey pasta with the fork and ate it
-"Gmm... it's delishiousmm..."
He said, and ate some more, while pushed the manjar with some long sips of Amargo Obrero... but as he kept eating, the boner started calling out loud, more and more imperious, maybe reinforced for the penis-shaped and robust dish? For a moment he wondered if she put some aphrodisiac in the food, but no... it was his mind, aroused for the female shape, tired of masturbating in the lonely orgasmatron of his rocket
Ilya Sofovich Chechile realized that his boner was invincible, unvanquishable... a nasty beast indifferent to any sort of repression or subjugation: standing up he held Impura 1 steadily with his hands
-"No: the dinner I need is you."
He murmured, sliding his hand to her cunt
-"Wait, what?"
She exclaimed surprised
-"I want to fuck you like an animal."
Sofovich Chechile assured, and she believed him, I swear you.
-"S-so soon?"
Impura commented, wielding one of her last feminine scruples, while Chechile sucked her nipples like a possessed
-"Gfffmm... mmm... ah AH!"
She sighed
and Chechile make the zipper of her suit slide down like a lightning in the storm of July... the smoothness of her skin and the fact that she hadn't any underwear fueled his ardor even more, and he lifted her and laid her on the huge table
plate, bottle and cuttlery fell on the floor in the middle of the passion, Chechile took his pants off and attacked the vagina, first, using his lips and tongue
an outcry of marvel and awe escaped from his throat:
-"What the fuck?"
Was heard.
Impura 1 had two clitorises, one in its normal place, and the other, no
-"Are you a hermaphrodio... hermaspirit... hermaspirine?"
Chechile asked, still stunned and disoriented like an abandoned child
-"Hermaphrodite..? No.
Some of our sisters, mothers, daughters, nieces and aunts are, though, but not me.
They have cunt, clitoris and cock, they are the ones who inseminate in our community, because they have cum, but they haven't womb.
The ones with womb, like me, have two clits, that's all, Marlon.
We fuck each other."
Chechile continued petrified with his mouth at 10cm from the cunt of Impura, his mind tried to organize, understand and assimilate what she said.
Because the scruples aren't only feminine, you know.
When he was about to open his mouth to say something, a woman entered the hall, just dressed with a black lacey thong and a little black shirt
she seemed to be a twin sister of Impura 1... when the woman saw Ilya Chechile semi-naked, on his knees beside Impura 1 laid on the table, she started talking to him in her native unknow tongue
she had a conspicuous penis -clearly visible through the thong-, still unerect, whose shiny glans seemed to salute from the interior of her vaginal lips.
Impura 1 interrupted her in English and asked her to speak in said idiom... as the well-endowed female processed the language in her brain -same as Impura 1 did before-, the double-clit girl commented, looking at Ilya Chechile in the eye:
-"This is my aunt, Impura 9. Our numbers are randomly chosen, she fucks me a lot."
The Russian guy didn't know what to think, in that moment his mind was like a matryoshka doll full of contradictory thinkings
-"Hello stranger, who are you?"
Impura 9 said, at last, once the idiomatic process was complete in her mind, and she smiled placidly.
-"Hi... ha-hello, I'm Ma-Marlon Pitt... I am ju... "
-"Won't you like to fuck my niece with me?"
Impura 9 said, interrupting a Chechile who was beyond flummoxed
-"What do you mean? I mean... fuck her, you? And me?"
-"Yes, please. Let's fuck her."
-"Yes, please, fuck me, both."
Impura 1 begged sighing, while she fingered her double clit
-"Yes, please, let's fuck her, at the same time."
Impura 9 supplicated, while she started polishing her growing dick with two fingers
-"Yes, pleas... ah! Ah ah..! Pleassee, fuck me at the mm... mmm... AAAHHH... same time ah ah... "
Impura 1 insisted, rubbing her double honey in flames
... Unfortunately the boner of Ilya Chechile was gone, gone... the masculine psychosexuality is extremely delicate and whimsical... he looked alternatively at both women, confused... the consistency of his cock, which 6 or 7 minutes ago was like a fucking trunk, turned out to be a flaccid piece of flesh now, a balloon that explodes and stays melancholically belittled and fallen on the floor during a birthday, trodden by everybody.
Chechile tried to speak:
-"But, but I... I... "
-"Let's start."
Impura 9 said, with her bonerized cock so erect that it couldn't be contained by the thong anymore, and jumped off the lacey underwear... she sat down on a white bench with her cock begging to be milked.
Impura 1 came to her, got on her knees, and started sucking the cock of Impura 9, her left hand lifted and caressed the balls that appeared overflowing from the commissures of the cunt, while her lips slid on the bony shaft that became too hardened to be true
-"Ahh... suck it like a nasty bitch, yessss! I want now my balls and cock into your mouth, complete! To blow your head with my cum, put it all inside slut! All! Do it!"
Chechile, still on his knees, beside the table, observed Impura 1 giving Impura 9 an extreme blowjob, almost choking with the dick and the balls deep into her bucal cavity, as the glans penetrated beyond the uvula easily.
The arousal returned to his hybrid brain slowly... he walked to the loving pair and got down on his knees behind Impura 1, caressing her boobs and licking her neck, then, down to her ass-hole, Chechile licked it penetrating it slightly with his tongue to lubricate the meaty ring, while she continued with the arduous and delicious blow job:
holding head with hands, Impura 9 started fucking the mouth of Impura 1 in wild irrumation, as Chechile penetrated Impura 1 and started buttfucking her.
Both glanses slid rhythmically into Impura 1, possessing her bucally and anally, and promising her a hot, double and simultaneous vaginal reward afterwards.
In that exact moment Impura 17 and Impura 24 entered the hall, getting surprised by the unexpected scene.
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