The Mysterious Abduction of Yuri Gagarin by Sexy Alien Women

The year was 1963. Someone there, in the West, had the noble speeches of the dark-skinned King, hippies, Kennedy's smile and the myth of free love, someone here in the union had Bel Akhmadulina, a general passion for corn and the first cosmonaut, as an answer. And this guy in shabby work trousers had none of this with him, the only thing he had then was a boat with weed, which, although it was in contact with his backside, due to being in the back pocket of his trousers, directly warmed his soul.

Smiling like creatine to the whole world around him, trying to hug everyone he met on the way, he walked, or rather floated in weightlessness along

Stalinsky Avenue, along the main city highway, one famous resort. Cars occasionally rushed past him, there weren’t many cars then, and no one had even heard of a UFO, and when suddenly something extraordinary loomed against the backdrop of grooves, Muscovites and Victories, he, of course, was stunned. Here we must immediately stop and explain something: until that moment, the young man had never seen Chaika’s cars. Glistening in the sun with its blued sides, this amazing apparatus drove up very close to him and stood a few steps away from him at the parapet; its portholes opened, and six faces of sexy aliens immediately appeared in the freed space.

Here it is also necessary to take a pause and explain: at that time the young man had also never seen sunglasses or the daughters of the elite. The aliens looked at him with the same surprised, round eyes as he looked at them. It was clear that they were animatedly arguing with each other about something. But finally, one of them turned directly to him.

- Tell me, young man, are you by any chance Yuri Gagarin? So Irochka says that he’s definitely him... Lera that they’re just similar... Sasha that he’s probably a twin... Nona that he’s definitely not him... Eli doesn’t give a damn, but Eli always doesn’t give a damn... And I personally, if you’re not the first cosmonaut, then I’m not Mashenka and we’re not in Sochi. So are you Yuri Gagarin or are you just very similar to him?

— Well, actually, my name is really Yuri,” the young man answered, scratching the back of his head, “and they call me an astronaut, even when I wouldn’t really like it myself.”

A second, another, and a real ovation erupted from inside the car.

— Well, if you really are Yuri Gagarin, then let us kidnap you,” the charming alien exclaimed enthusiastically.

— I’ll allow it,” Yuri answered without even doubting and moved towards the car.

A minute later he was already sitting in the leather interior of a luxury car, or rather lying in it, because all the seats were already occupied. And in fact, Yuri Gagarin himself should not huddle in the corners. Moreover, he was not lying on the floor, as often happened to him in this life, but right on the feet of three aliens, and even though this bench was hard and to a certain extent not comfortable, for example, in order not to fall under the girls’ feet, he had to hold on to the leg of one of them, yet it must be admitted that this was the most divine bench in his life. In addition, a wonderful panorama opened up from here, and the love of wonderful panoramas, as we know, is in the blood of all astronauts.

- Tell us about yourself Yuri. After all, I can call you that.

— Of course you can, but I’m afraid there’s nothing special to tell me about myself, because I’m just one of many astronauts of this vast world,” the young man answered without thinking too much about the question, captivated at the same time by the contemplation of white, so innocent-looking panties that opened to him in the cut of two slender female legs.

- One of many? You're kidding! You are our first... you are our only... you are our answer!

- Yes, yes, yes.

- And yet, what is this space like?

- Space is an illusion, it’s a dream, it’s too perfect to be true. We look at these myriads of stars, we think about... but in addition to amazing worlds and new revelations, its vastness hides dangers.

- Dangers?

- Well, yes, old spots, black holes, and monsters, monsters live in them.

- Monsters?

- Greedy, covered with fur with their tongues sticking out, they hide behind illusions like behind the fabric of a screen, but as soon as you open it...

- Did you open it?

— And more than once.

— I can imagine,” another cute little voice rang out, “I’m returning to Moscow, I go up to my dad, I tell my dad, you won’t believe it, but Yuri Gagarin himself was lying on me in Sochi, and daddy will be surprised.

To this the young man rightly chose to remain silent.

At the turns, the legs of the girl who squeezed his hands and whose knee he had the good fortune to paw with his cheek, then slightly squeezed, then moved back apart, and in this endless flickering, now appearing, then disappearing again, as in the desired and the impossible, lived whole oceans of human fantasies. And he looked at this amazing play of flesh and fabric, shadow and nuance, first with tenderness, similar to the breath of spring, then with youthful excitement, and then, judging by some fluctuations in his trouser legs, courage was already awakening in him. However, to the credit of the young man, up to a certain point he behaved quite prudently, doing exclusively what artists do in front of their nature.

- And yet, how did you become this lucky guy, because you probably had huge competition?

- Yes, the older brother is addicted to the goat.

- How was your older brother also an astronaut?

- And my brother, and my uncle, and my father, and my father’s father have all done a little bit of astronaut work.

- We thought you were the first.

- Well, yes, in this country a quarter of the male population are astronauts, but only the astronauts are hidden, and I am an obvious one, that’s why I’m probably the first.

- However, what an interesting person you all are, it’s immediately clear that you are not an ordinary person. But still, how can you become addicted to this, because space is neither opera, nor cinema, nor ballet.

- You can become addicted to anything, especially bad things. At first you think that everything is fine, then that everything is fine, but something is missing, and then all the good things suddenly disappear somewhere, and you no longer know how to get rid of it all. And in general I am very biased.

- And what else?

- Well...

At one of the sharp turns, Yuri’s head (by the way, he didn’t lie) was thrown up strongly, and my hero, taking advantage of the convenient situation, grabbed the waist of the nearest girl, in the blink of an eye, rushing into the distance with the speed of a rocket, with his own face, or rather his curious one nose, entered the limit of his pornographic inevitability: white spots, black holes, the heat of a beautiful body, ate the perceptible smell of a female - suddenly swallowed him up.

For some time, the interior of the car resembled a chicken coop, a cunning and arrogant fox would climb into it. Yuri, squirming like a worm, shouted at the top of his lungs something unimaginable, well, something like, “I’m going to kill you all now; the girls naturally objected; showing his displeasure in the most eloquent phrases; slapping the world star on the back of the head, painfully shoving his knees, loudly knocking his legs and so on. At some point, Yuri realized that he had made a big mistake, but it was too late. Suddenly, out of the blue, a pop was heard in his left ear, reminiscent of the sound of a popping bubble of chewing gum, then the sounds died down, the colors faded, night poured into his eyes, and now he saw what the first cosmonaut probably should have seen when going into orbit - namely, myriads, myriads of stars.

History is silent about how much time passed from the moment Yuri lost consciousness, but it is known for sure that he woke up in the evening in the bedroom of a house unfamiliar to him. His head, after becoming familiar with the sharpness of the heel of a woman's shoe, was awkwardly wrapped in a towel. His previous clothes had disappeared somewhere, and instead of them his naked body was covered with a woman's robe. If he had the opportunity to see himself at this moment in the mirror, he would probably fall in love with himself. He looked really great in it! My head hurt like after a collision with an asteroid. Drug intoxication has completely disappeared.

The only thing he could see before, from the general interior of the room, and what he probably didn’t want to see, was the face of the leader of all nations, who was looking down at him from one of the walls of the room, framed by a thin wooden frame. All of Yuri’s petty and cowardly nature awoke in him from this angry look, for it was not necessary to be a great mathematician to count to himself how much he was threatened for the girls, and for the grass, and the worst of all the evils he committed was the disgrace of the honor of the first cosmonaut. And even though 1963 was the time of the so-called thaw, nevertheless, the horrors of the past from my brother’s Kolyma stories vividly awoke in the memory of this charlatan against his will; the hair on my head began to move, and my soul became level with the plane of the polished floor.

Without hesitating a moment, the young man resolutely rushed to the window, but alas, it turned out to be barred from the outside, he grabbed the handle of the door leading to the balcony, and let the thunder strike whoever thought of being the first to lock the doors there. The young man looked around again in horror. The door leading deeper into the house turned out to be slightly open; behind it there was a dim flicker of something, apparently a dim light, music was playing, quiet shadows wandered across the floor. The young man swallowed, took a deep breath and tiptoed, quietly, quietly moved towards the safety exit.

A fair amount of time had passed since Yuri, leaning on the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest, watched what was happening. And there was something to see; silhouettes were visible in the hazy space of the living room; the putrid smell of anasha mixed with the subtle aromas of perfume; quiet moaning with gramophone music; while light played with darkness, flesh with its secret desires. All as one, one as all, throughout the entire space - quite in the spirit of socialism, materialism and women's solidarity. And wow the picture.

Two girls found shelter on a cozy leather sofa, one in a full negligee was lying on it, the other, who had not yet completely gotten rid of her clothes, sat astride her, powerfully pressing her fragile body into the soft skin, while the third girl from this common, delightful composition sat on the floor, and, wrapping her hands around the lying leg, played with her chiseled knee. A little further away from them, right on the spread carpet, rested two more naked bodies, like two snakes wriggling, as if fused with each other. I haven’t read the Kama Sutra, I don’t know what the number was for this intricate pose, but I myself would call it “Good!!!” The last girl, having never found a partner, sat on a chair, very close, with her back to the contemplator, and sipped a joint at the same time playing with her finger, cat and mouse.

Sometimes she pulled a moistened finger out, greedily sucked it, and again plunged it into the opening hidden from view. The bastard who escaped from under the covers of his robe could have told the young man that there was still sex in the Union, and that there was a trace of lipstick on his uneven and long trunk, and that he, this notorious Mr., even in those days could take on quite liberal features. Captured by temptations, the young man no longer thought about escape, no, the thought of it had not yet completely disappeared from his consciousness, but still pliantly gave way to another, much more urgent: how now to draw the girls’ attention to his forgotten person, in order to plunge into this alluring and boundless ocean of Lisbian love.

To begin with, he decided to cough, but it didn’t help, then to whistle, but the girls were too carried away by the process, finally, the young man was forced to loudly, out loud, literally say the following.

- Comrades, girls, can I have your attention for a second!

No, Stalin, of course, did not come to life, the sky did not open, the music did not stop, but the young man still achieved his goal. Six pairs of interested eyes turned to him at that moment.

- Ah, finally Yuri you woke up, but we thought that you would like to sleep until the morning. They pretended to be a good boy, so innocently, in such a Russian way, they gave the world their famous smile, but in reality they turned out to be something - a big naughty boy. Why, this is not good at all!

Speaking this, one of the girls, the one who had remained alone all this time, and whose lipstick, by an amazing coincidence, had the same shade as the one whose trace, like evidence at a crime scene, gaped on Yuri’s already mentioned excited organ, rose from her place and moved straight towards him.

The rest of the girls immediately followed her example, like six hungry she-wolves surrounding their unfortunate victim. They approached slowly, quietly, eeriely. The young man, not expecting such a trick, backed away and retreated until he tripped over a bed that was already familiar to him. But suddenly, unexpectedly, perhaps even for himself, he straightened up proudly, his pupils sparkled playfully, and a smile slid across his lips. He looked around the girls with a captivating look and after a pause said:

- But I can, I really can do this!

— Who would doubt it, of course you can,” the pretty brunette responded and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder, “you are Yuri Gagarin, the first cosmonaut, you must, this is your duty, - you were born to be great.”

— Yes, I am like that and so is he, by the way,” the swindler grinned, pointing his gaze downwards.

- Yes, that's a fact! But it would certainly be nice if its appearance matched its performance.

With these words, the alien tightly squeezed the object of her admiration, and then she leaned on Yuri with her whole body, and then another, and then the next, and so on.

How can you describe something that is almost impossible to describe. Fiction that has become reality - reality has flowed into fiction! Six against one, one against six, in a war in which no prisoners were taken. It’s clear which side had the numerical superiority, but as one character would say, the coolest Hollywood movie is the one with the coolest gun.

And which of them, all of them, had it?! And he shot it so often and so accurately that even the first Texas cowboy would have been forced to take off his hat to his undoubted talent. White streams of seed covered the bodies of the enemies more than once or twice, and the greedy proboscis of the latter only intensified the effect of these precise hits, not missing the opportunity to collect every drop of this famous nectar from each other’s bodies. He won, they lost, and after two hours of this continuous and tedious porn novel, they all calmly fell asleep together on the same bed. He lay between beautiful prostrate bodies, like an emperor between his countless concubines. Oh, lucky one!

The hero woke up, to no one, of an unknown war, the next morning and found himself completely alone. And the last stormy night was evidenced

only by a crumpled sheet and the aroma of perfume remaining on it. Smiling contentedly at the rays of the rising sun, the guy pulled slippers on his feet, and a robe on his naked body, and stomped off to look for his aliens. Not finding them on the ground floor of the building, he went down the stairs to the first floor, where he soon found them all located in front of the futuristic TV screen. One glance at them was enough to determine that something had happened. However, this was only a fleeting sensation, to which the young man did not pay due attention.

He ​​wanted to kiss the first dove he came across on the cheek, but unexpectedly received a harsh rebuff. The girl simply rudely pushed away the one for whom last night she was ready to fulfill any, even his wildest, wishes, and having done this, she again dreamily plunged into the world of the black and white screen. The rejected poor fellow was forced to follow her example and, oh horror, discover in him someone who he certainly was not, but in whom he already believed as himself. The hero, cosmonaut, example to every man, idol and sex symbol of all girls on both sides of the ocean, smiling with his unique smile, shook hands with a certain bearded man.

And the pleasant baritone of the announcer at the same time was broadcasting: and a certain foreign business trip, and a hospitable meeting of friendly people, and... Yes, what difference does it actually make about what exactly. That's how it happens sometimes too. The world that was just in your hands suddenly slips out and shatters into small fragments that can no longer be collected.

- “I said it’s not him, he doesn’t even look a bit like him, Gagarin is so tall, about two meters, I suppose, but this one is pathetic to look at,” one of the girls muttered in an angry voice and threw an angry look at Yuri.

— Get out,” the second one immediately added.

— Давай, шуруй космонавт, пока скафандр не набили, — зло прицедила третья.

— Но… — было хотел протестовать молодой человек, перед этой жестокостью, но запнулся. И в самом деле, кем был он, а кем был Юрий Гагарин. Чувствуете разницу: Давид и Голиаф, червь и прекрасный дракон, обыкновенный неудачник и гордость и краса всей нации. Like this.

Вскоре молодой человек с потухшим, и уставившимся куда-то вниз, под ноги, взглядом, выходил из дверей чудесной обители, которая по совместительству оказалась также роскошной по тем временам дачей. Отдаляясь от фасада здания, и приближаясь к огибавшему его со всех сторон высокому, крашеному, металлическому забору, он все же прежде, чем преодолеть эту последнюю на его пути преграду, оглянулся назад, дабы раз и навсегда сохранить в памяти то место, где он провел самые лучшие часы в своей жизни. На балкончике, том самом, на который, он вечером, прошлого дня так и не смог попасть, собрались все его сексапильные инопланетянки. Он помахал им ручкой, рассчитывая на взаимность, но, увы, ушибся, услышав от них всю туже фразу, которую и без того, так часто слышал в своей жизни.

Причем девушки повторяли ее с какой-то маниакальной настойчивостью, все громче и громче словно были ни где-то там далеко, на балконе, а совсем близко и уже не просто говорили, пусть и с повышением тона, а буквально таки орали ему в самое ухо. И вдруг в этом самом левом ухе неожиданно раздался хлопок напоминающий звук пузыря лопнувшей жвачки. Краски окружающего мира потекли, словно мир был белым холстом, а они красками акварели, в глаза хлынул яркий и мучительный свет, и через мгновенье Юрий уже видел то, что и наверно должен был видеть бродяга в своей не обласканной счастьем жизни, а именно, — зубастое, угрожающе нависшее лицо, старой уборщицы.

— Пошел отсюда вон, — все повторяла она, тряся его за руку. — Нашел, где завалится, тут Юрий Гагарин дерево когда-то посадил, а ты здесь лежбище устроил, наркоман чертов. Вот пойду сейчас скажу, кому следует, так они тебя быстренько в чувство приведут, тут в парке у нас знаешь какие порядки. Это нельзя, — женщина затрясла перед его лицом указательным пальцем.

Он приподнялся, уселся на скамейку на которой все это время лежал, и протерев уже прилично обросший подбородок, еще сонными глазами огляделся по сторонам: рядом с ним по левую сторону действительно возвышалась дерево посаженое много лет назад первым космонавтом, по правую высоко в воздухе меж специальных столбов был растянут плакат: Выставка ностальгия 50-летний юбилей легендарной Чайки, а напротив, точно на такой же лавки на какой он сидел сам, сидела девушка, и раскинув по сторонам как штабеля упитанные ножки, презрительно пялилась на него. Из ее рта то и дело показывался розовый кончик жвачки.

— Говорят тебе, давай шуруй отсюда, — не унималась уборщица.

Молодой человек бросил на нее взгляд, молча, поднялся с места, сделал несколько шагов по направлению к девице.

— Что? — холодно уставилась на него та.

Но молодой человек вместо ответа выкинул фокус, который будь он по старше закончился бы наверняка походом к Ревматологу. Он резко согнулся. На секунду его лицо сравнялась с открывающимся разрезом ног. Створки, толи рая, толи ада, незамедлительно захлопнулись перед этим наглым взглядом.

Он уже шел по пешеходной дорожке, а за его спиной только начинали наперебой, раздаваться чудовищные проклятья. В общем, он их заслужил.

Вскоре Юрий уже брел по Курортному проспекту, вдоль главной городской трассы. Мимо него проносились НОНДЫ, МЕРСЕДЕСЫ, да ЛЕКСУСЫ. Сверху, тысячами квадратных глаз смотрели комплексы высотных новостроек. Шел 2008 год.