THE ZOOSPHERE #7
THE ZOOSPHERE #7
Matta is chasing Sylvester and Eva as Adam teaches his astrogate book of space knowledge on board his space habitat on the Bernal Sphere.
Eva storm clouds her email to Matta. “Leave Syl and I alone and my husband of reckoning.”
“I am teaching Adam the facts of space life in a post-modern ship of state.”
“Matta, I suspect you are an earth spy, a flash in the grey goo of human development who changed her shemale sex to entice all the real space Adamic guys like my ex so you can bring us down to earth.”
“Absurd Platonic reasoning. You need a double shot of smart pills, mega year 2012 of stratosphere testosterone b6 and b12 to enlarge your world.”
“You’re jealous of my sexy post-human decadent, jealous transi way out there of my post-colonial, post-facial, post-racial, post-grad group 101 with seventy surgeries making me the most beautiful gal in space as I came in first at the Miss Universe contest on Venus.”
“You probably bribed the Venus penis judges with your false eye lashes, head fake boobs and space falsies that can’t compete with real astrogate beauty.”
“Then why does Adam prefer my island ore looks to your backside.”
“You deceived him, Matta, chatting with Adam in real life time.”
Sylvester reads his astrological chart on the day’s Zoosphere calendar. “Eva, it says here in geometric plain space language that today I will start a new relationship aboard a new space ship. Bye, Eva. Matta, while Adam is teaching you can teach me a thing or two. I will meet you on Venus.”
“Take your space hook and when you arrive I will have a surprise for you.”
Sylvester Cain navigates to Venus. He sees Matta and she offers him a waterbed full of vodka. He removes his space gear and she straps him in for rapid robot sex without her and he cannot leave the space station until all of his bulges and space holes are filled with extraordinary espen powers.
“You invented the sex machine, Cain but Adam and I expanded its effects and you will be here in these imported vodka waters until Olga from Siberian headquarters tires you out.”
“Olga, honey bunny put this sex glue goo goo all over Sylvester’s body parts until he screams to be a virgin chrononaut again.”
“Da. May I share his waterbed with my Soyuz toys of my trade.”
“Suit yourself, Olga.”
“I will record you on the Zoosphere for an advanced post-sex ed third-degree voluptuary.”
“What an honor roll moment.”
“Now roll in the muddy waters with these packs of starwisp all natural Trajan Trojans for those big Russian bear jugs and hugs and quicksand results. He we go, Sylvester, body up and down the spheres.”
“Oh, Olga no more. I can’t take it.”
“You will take it whole. It’s your invention, Matta informed me.”
“I think she’s an earth spy with the cia kgb network.”
“Move over, rover, we will be here in this parking lot of unusual moves for many light years as I promised Matta.”
”Ow, wow! Oh…I hear the Zoosphere playing Scriabin’s Ecstasy.”
“Relax now, several robot massages are covering you.”
“Oh, Olga. Hold me.”
“Hold on to the robot’s attachments, Sylvester for dear life!”
The Zoosphere is recording for eternity.
©2012 This work is the property of the author.