Coxman #25: The Penetrator (Troy Conway, 1971)

Who's Afraid of The Big Bad Russian Wolf?
Certainly not Rod Damon!

Unlike my first two Coxmans, this one doesn't start in his cabinet at Wisconsin College with our stud "studying" the species of the opposite sex and being interrupted by his superior. Instead, the entire opening chapter is dedicated to introducing his soon-to-be adversary, Countess Marie Antoinetta Rubinov. You can read more about her in the facts below, but for now - just to keep your interest - let me add that she has had over seventeen thousand men and was "mounted" by a heat-crazed horse on her tenth birthday! Yes - welcome to the crazy and sexed world of Troy Conway!

She is briefed about her assignment while being fucked with a dildo for several hours. The whole thing (I mean the assignment, of course) is a bit odd, but it involves a British super-spy called Penetrator. I think she is supposed to track him down and use her female charms to convince him to change sides. Or something like that.

It's somewhat unclear, and although amusing, it doesn't significantly advance the plot. So, Mr Avallone switches over to a proven formula. In the second chapter, we find Rod in his Wisconsin University cabinet, working on one of his sex theories with the assistance of his student Sarena. And being interrupted by Walrus-Moustache - Party-pooper, Killjoy, Bad News and Joe Btsplk Number One.

Rod's briefing is more conventional, and his assignment also includes the mysterious Penetrator, but there's another problem he must deal with. He needs to find out as much as possible about the "cobalt special - a granddaddy of all bombs".

Rod is now promptly off to Moscow, and this is where the plot ends before it has even really begun. For the following hundred pages or so, there's nothing but fucking. And it's cool, but it does get repetitive. There are several attempts to revive the story (dead spy, assassination attempt). However, they don't amount to much, so Mr Avallone just wraps the whole thing up with a couple of surprising twists (for lack of a better expression) and a little reminder that this is not a spy story anyway.

And also tells us in his unique way to go fuck ourselves in case we expected one:

Spying just isn't all that it's cracked up to be.
But sex is.
And it's the only crack in the world that I, Rod Damon, will ever be interested in.
Local Russian spy rings, please copy!
And why you're at, go screw yourselves.
Da, da!

Da, da?

3/5

Facts:

Hero:
You see, I'm kind of the male Rubinov of the West when you get right down to it. A pure born satyr, first class. Only thing is I'm not sick about it. It's no hang-up.
More a hang-down, you could say. Ahem.

Bad guys:
"And who is the General?"
Him I hadn't heard of. Aside from Motors, Electric, etcetera.
Walrus-Moustache smiled at me almost fondly.
"I hope you never meet him, Damon. Few people that we know have. And lived to tell the tale. A man of mystery. A physical giant of over six feet six. Handsome as a statue, older than time itself. He drove a tank in World War I and led armies in World War II. And now he is the head of anything Russian that requires violence, liquidation and aggressive action. He is their executioner, as it were.

Driving tanks and leading the armies, but only a few people have seen him?

Location: 
"Go ahead. Hit me with it. Tibet? Nope, Alaska? The moon-" 
"No, Damon. Russia."
I opened my eyes and in spite of myself, I felt a quickening of interest. You see, lately I've been on a Russian kick. Culturally, I'm kind of stuck on Redland. What with the Moiseyev Ballet, their opera, all those great-looking ballerinas and busty peasant dolls - in fact, I'd been toying with doing a thesis on Russian females. You know - Better Bed Than Red - or something like that.

Body count: 2
Not counting the dead CIA spy William Watts and a bunch of scientists that crashed down in Russian foothills in some deluxe private charter jet. But none of this has anything to do with the operation Penetrator. At least I couldn't make a connection.

Anyway. As usual, let's instead go through Rod's sexual conquests. More fun.

Sarena #1
As mentioned, his student Sarena is the first one. He deflowers her, and she comes back the very same night for more action (she couldn't study after THE experience). But she's not that inexperienced (she was natural) because she starts the foreplay by sticking her tongue in Rod's ass! Once finished, she concludes, "You are not to be believed! I thought you were a mirage!"

Nosha 
Upon his arrival in Moscow, the commies send a call girl, Nosha, to his room. This "steamrolling female tank" fucks him savagely, but then he gives her the complete treatment (I reamed it, steamed it and dry-cleaned it.) that includes a couple of his famous "sex ploys". And this is where we get the only Avallone LOL/WTF trademark moment. Check this:

Things got so worked up I once mistook her right ear for the natural target but she didn't howl or pull back but considered it another innovation until I explained my muscular mistake to her.[The Coolest!]

Do you get it!? I almost missed it the first time and had to reread and decipher it. Anyway, after they are finished, she just utters, "You are not bad, Comrade. Not bad at all. In  fact, you are in a class by yourself."

Orgy at the Smirnski School of Psychology with "the finest scholastic specimens"
Rod is undercover in Russia as a visiting professor at Smirnski School of Psychology, where he teaches cadets of the Cosmonaut Space Agency his "Sex and Weightlessness" seminar. You know, to make sure they know how to fuck in outer space. In the very first lecture, there's a brief introduction (8 Ivans and 4 quintessential babes) that ends with:

"All right! Now, select your partners. Two males to one female. And let's go. Fornicate! As best or however you can. And I warn you - I'm watching - I'm taking notes - and I'll ask questions later."

Ina the Ballerina
On his way back to the hotel, he runs into Ina (torrid tomato)... who btw is the only Russian person he knows... and they end up doing the Wanton Waltz the whole night:

"Ah, Rodski - " she murmured happily as we careened around her bedroom floor. "You are Nijinsky, Nureyev - with something extra added - what drive you have! What extension!"

In limbo
Rod is just waiting for something to happen over the next three days and keeps his rod busy, spending his days with students and his nights with Nosha.

Six Three
This idle period ends with the appearance of Six Three, his contact agent. Who has a little anatomical problem:
"I am very large down there, you see, It takes a big man to fill me, As you will see should you take on my problem."

He, of course, takes her problem on sooner as he can say Shostakovitch, and two pages later, we are treated with this unforgettable line:  
IT FITS! GREAT JUMPING TROTSKY - IT FITS!". 

To which he replies with yet another one of those inner monologues spoken in Avallone language: 
"Of course, it did. Pooh-pooh and tut-tut."

And the scene ends with her simple:
"Comrade Demon - I love you - "

Rod-Manya history-maker
Everything until this moment was just a build-up to Rod's encounter with the Countess, aka the Silver Hair, aka Manya. So when this historic moment arrives, it is first adequately introduced:

BOOMMMMMMMMMM!
No, that's not an elephant breaking wind.
That's the sound of Rod Damon and Silver Hair meeting on even ground in the dark of a bedroom. A Rod-Manya history-maker.
A most historic occasion in the annals of the Coxman.

Then it goes on for several pages in such a manner:
"- ohmylenintrotskymarxgodddd - " you are a man among men - truly, you are a might bull - ohmylord - againagain - and againagainagainagainagainagainagainagainnnnnnnaaahhhhh!"
"You're repeating yourself, Manya."
"Of course I am! And I want you to repeat yourself! A dozen times over - oh, Comrade - a whole troop of infantrymen have never given me so much pleasure - you are a marvel!"
"Thank you."
"You are welcome - come - do that once more - I tingle all over - and the itch is driving me insannnnnnnnnnne!"

But it suddenly totally anticlimaxes when Rod realises that she's, in fact, a nymphomaniac. He's appalled (She was sick for the stick, all right. And those are the worst kind!) and even gets pretty fucking mean to her:
"My baby shivers," she murmured. "Is Manya hurting him?"
"Not a chance, baby. Shut up and suck!"

Tumultuous orgy
The next day, he's half-dead after being ravaged the whole night by Three Six and Countess, so Comrade Professor's lecture at the institute is about reviving a dead man with sex. Tumultuous orgy follows.

Manya's punishment
And it was there, I swear by all I hold dear, that I perpetrated the most incredible love act of my life.
...Even Fay Wray got a better break than she did

In short: he fucks her to death.

Sarena #2
Similar to Had any Lately?, this one also finishes with the same girl he started with. Once he's back in the States, she demonstrates what she has learned from his books while he was away.

Dames:
Marie Antoinetta Rubinov. In a (very) condensed summary: the swingingest lady this side of a Playboy centerfold,... the most rapacious Russian nymphomaniac since Catherine the Great put a whole regiment of Cossacks through their nighttime paces,... Vavavavoom!... some mad artist's horniest fantasy...even a bishop with his Bible would burn with a fervor not precisely religious... a body of creamy white sculpture that Michelangelo might have chipped out of pure Carrara marble if he hadn't been one of the wrong kinds of boys... big, beautiful breasts with scarlet nipples that look like a bloody sacrifice on the snowy white mounds they adorn... perfect Venus... 

And so on and on... And on and fucking on. But if you still haven't grasped the idea, there's her whole dossier on page 9 (interesting reading). In essence, Marie Antoinetta Rubinov, nymphomaniac extraordinaire, was the greatest spy in Russia's history.

And there's a reference to some fantastic beauty specialising in sadomasochism named (check this!!!) Legget E. Split from "Coxman #9: The Man-Eater". I guess I know now which Coxeman book to pick up next.

Blackouts:
He blacks out during the bomb blast when he's about to join the orgy #1.

Title: 
"Ahhhhhhh, Boris," Marie cooed, "and what is my assignment, pet?" She kept grinding away with her thighs, like a coffee-maker.
"Stop The Penetrator!" Boris panted, exerting himself mightily behind his artificial manhood.
..."- And who is that - Rod Damon of America?"
As you can see, my fame precedes me. The world knows me...

"No, no, Manya - not he, though he is bad enough - this is a British superspy. The Penetrator -"...born in London... raised in America... has a fluent command of most Russian dialects... has been able to penetrate the deepest Russian military secrets for M2 of Britain and the CIA... genius... 

But Rod does know him well:

I knew all about The Penetrator. Someone who made James Bond seem like a kid playing with an erector set. Heard of him? Has the Lone Ranger heard of Tonto? Has Dick heard about Liz? Does Raquel Welch know that every man in the world wants to tag?

Although he's not very impressed a couple of pages later when he's shown Penetrator's photo: 
"He looks like Woody Allen in advanced stages of tuberculosis."

Edition:
Paperback Library 73-125

Cover: 
Rod with some hot Brigitte Bardot look-alike.

Cool lines: 
I'm telling you, you learn something new every day. In every way. With every lay.[The Coolest!]

He said nothing, merely grunting, but he did shove very hard behind her and she felt every delectable inch of that delightful instrument [=dildo] probing deeper into her soul.
"My sainted ass -" she screamed dropping exhausted on the bed, physically spent and battered.

"Shut up," I snarled, "and let's fornicate!"The Coolest!]

Had any Lately? (Troy Conway, 1969)

My first Coxeman left me speechless, so I should write something more substantial about this one. However, to put any of this craziness into context, we first need to understand the story. So here it goes.

The entire male population of Sarmania has somehow lost its sex drive. Men are simply not horny and are refusing to fuck their women. Because of this biological oddity, the country's survival is at stake since they haven't been reproducing for a full five years now. Rod is sent there to investigate what's going on, although he's not particularly concerned about the country's future. The thing is that Sarmania is behind the Iron Curtain, so the Reds must be involved.

Upon his arrival, he is raped by fifteen sex-starved women and later runs (or should I say rams) into several more. One of them is the beautiful sexologist J.R., who lives in a secluded, Frankenstein-like castle, conducting fertility tests on gorilla Peter. J.R. is frigid and therefore off-limits (for the time being), so Rod - as a part of a scientific experiment - fucks the three women working for her. On his way out, he's frustrated and concludes that she is a "confirmed man-hater, possible Lesbian, potential suicidal type" and that J.R. probably stands for "Just Rusting".

Here, we come to the second most hilarious point of the novel. When he returns to the hotel, there is a riot on the street. Women demand him to you-know-what them. This horny mob is led by Angelica, who proclaims:

"I, Angelica, say this. He will rest all day and night. Tomorrow morning, we will issue ration cards. For each and every woman here. Each in turn will be able to enjoy ten minutes with this remarkable man."

Fucking ration cards!!!?! Don't you just love it?

Rod manages to escape and eventually returns to the castle. Not surprisingly, he does score with J.R. this time around, and she goes crazy over his bouncing balls. Oh yeah - and there's an army of apes living in that castle protecting our beautiful rusting sex scholar. And another thing - Rod and J.R. discover a cause of the Sarmania's misfortunes. But things are not what they seem! Rod goes back to town, makes some calls, gets himself informed, and heads back to the castle for the final showdown after a few more lays. Upon his arrival, he then witnesses the most hilarious scene of the novel!

J.R. is lying naked on the floor, holding a pistol in each hand and is surrounded by six naked men lined up in a semicircle. They all have hard-ons (equipped with rigid weapons), and (in that cool scientific voice) she commands them to "Jump. Up and down. In position. Jog. I say, Jog!". So they start jumping and waving their balls at her, but she's still not satisfied! Seems like she craves Rod's "family jewels" specifically.

??????

Later on, there's some silly crap about uranium mines and J.R.'s Sarmania takeover, but in essence, that's it. In a concise and abbreviated version. Can I really put any context or meaning into any of this without the post running for ten pages or more? I can't. I'll try with the next one, since I was lucky enough to score a pack of ten Coxeman paperbacks on eBay for a mere 50 bucks.

I'll just finish by saying that, as over the top and silly and juvenile as it is, it never gets obscene. There are no four-letter words in this one. Instead, we are continually treated to a never-ending stream of hilariously crazy metaphors. Rod's dick is everything from (a bit too frequently used) an old-fashioned "family jewels" to a pretty self-explanatory "eight wonder of the world" or rather bizarre "red candle" and so on. I think the most memorable one is referring to coming in a girl's mouth as her "drinking of the red wine of life". Crazy stuff, indeed. I needed to pause reading a few times to think over and decipher some of this nonsense.

It could have been a bit more hard-boiled-ish, but it's still unforgettable.

4/5

Facts:

Hero:
I, Rod Damon, am still the greatest Coxman of them all. Ask anybody.

Me. Damon. The greatest Coxman of them all. The pride of L.S.D. The noblest roamin' sexologist in the universe.

"Whoremaster!" the man nearest me suddenly shouted.
"Lecher!" cried another.
"Adulterer" another man blurted, spitting at me.
"Despoiler of our women!" another man screamed in my face.
"Beast of the field!"
"Fornicator!"
"Lustful dog!"
"Sodomist!"

Hm - Beast of the field??

Location: 
Starts and ends in Japan but mostly takes place in Sarmania. Which is a little eastern European country known for its excellent rice. Yes, rice in Europe...

Body count: 
Only 2. But this is Coxeman novel, so let's instead list all the fucking:

1. Mariko (You don't make love like a man. Like God)
2. Raped by 15 women (with pretty non-eastern European names): Wilma, Helga, Dorla, Irma, Dirma, Lowella, Helene, Paula, Pita, Irena, Alice, Sally, Francesca, Rhoda and Minnie 
3. Lowella Sparma - she comes so hard that she faints
4. Mrili
5. Mrili and her two virgin sisters, Tillie and Millie
6. J.R.'s staff: the cook Miss Poldin (Marry me), the personal secretary Lottie Linkel (I'll give you anything. I'll darn your socks, wash your cloths) and the gardener Freda Farkus (she cannot speak English so "Freda Farkus was glassy-eyed. She stared back at me through a foggy maze of disbelief.")
7. Allie (Merry me) - now Rod (finally!) starts to mention some of his famous techniques: The Rope Ladder, The Japanese Rope Trick, The forty-fifth position of Dealey's exposition, Damon Drop
8. J.R. staff getting raped by the six sex-recovered locals. Wouldn't mention this, but Rod himself almost gets gang-banged, too!
9. J.R. (I'm dead). Because she's frigid, he uses The Hesitation Method since "This is a guaranteed cure-all for broads who were coming out of the deep freeze". Later, I guess when she is unfrozen, he utilises something called a "see-saw elevator ride" and finishes her off with "Oriental Love Dance". Next time, he promises to show her "The Australian Method" and "South Pacific Syndrome".
10. Allie (x3)
11. J.R. and Peter. Wouldn't mention this either but remember - Peter is a fucking gorilla!
12. One for the farewell with the mob ringleader Angelica 
13. Back in Japan with Mariko (San...I shall cry...) - using "what the Orient calls The Intertwining Leaves position"

So the total count reaches 31
 

Dames: 
Bewitching nymph Mariko -  She had graduated from Japanese burlesque to Number One Queen of Tokyo Films Ltd, but there was nothing limited about her. At the ripe old age of twenty-two, she was older than Time itself in the Sex Department.

Allie de Marpana - the bellboy (or the bell-girl): "Her eyes were as blue as the Navy and her lips as red as Heinz ketchup."

Lowella Sparma, prime minister's mistress.

J.R. Thule: "What Lowella Sparma had, she had more of it... What Allie had, she had improved on."

Blackouts: 
After being raped by 15 women:

I, the future author of one of the rarest works in THE FETISH ENCYCLOPEDIA, ten volumes inclusive, was raped by fifteen women on the morning of my arrival in the sleeping dominion of Sarmania in the year of Our Sex, 1969. Me, Rod Damon, head of L.S.D.
Dingalinga.

Have no idea what "dingalinga" is supposed to be, but this is how he "dropped off":

But there is a limit. There has to be. The blood in my head began to dance a merry jig. The room tilted. Above me, the panting mouths, the dangling mammaries, the gyrating pelvises all converged into one roaring central region of burning blackness...
...
I did the only sensible thing under the circumstances.
I dropped out.
I fainted.

Even though Rod is unconscious, he still somehow manages to hear women admiring his firmness. Because - and do I really even need to clarify this? - he keeps his hard-on, and they keep fucking him and arguing about whose turn is next!
 

Title: 
A pretty rhetorical question for Rod...

But I'm not sure if this is the 12th or 13th of the series. When I was looking for a cover image, I came across the one that states this is the 12th, but mine says it's the 13th.

Edition: 
Paperback Library

Cover: 
Provocative and cool, but it should really be that scene with J.R. naked, holding guns and surrounded by bouncing balls.

First time on this blog: 
Full frontal nudity cover

Cool lines: 
She didn't stop until Grand Central Station was firmly positioned where I could enter and drop my baggage.

She had a gloriously slick and comfortable resting place for the family jewels.

I pressed with my thumbs until both of her half-moons widened into a glorious entrance-way to the stars, to the Valhalla of womanhood.

My formula for instant sleep was very simple. I closed my eyes and counted naked Sarmanian peasant girls jumping over the window sill of my bedroom, breasts bouncing, fannies bobbing.