Work in Progress: Goo Girls Pt. 1

Bertram Labs was not an easy place to get into. From the parking lot, Amber, wearing her most sensible of heels, navigated her way to the tram. There, she presented her ID and the tram would take her to the lobby entrance. Inside, there was a receptionist’s desk and obvious guards standing on either side of a metal detector. Purses and bags were scanned on a conveyor belt before being returned to the employee or guest, whose comings and goings are logged with the swipe of the badge. Amber waved at the cute guy behind the desk today, a temp named Chance or Chace or something. Amber had a man at home, but a little window shopping never hurt. Especially when the man at home was Dave.

Amber shoved thoughts of her man and his disappointing behavior in the back of her head while she descended into the belly of the lab. Three stories down, that was where Bertram’s most interesting finds resided. That was the place Amber called home.

She nodded to Lana Richards on her way past the office. All of the rooms down here were largely comprised of plexiglass so that everyone could see everyone else. Dangers were quickly detected and dealt with. That was essential when one worked on the cutting edge of science. Everyone understood accidents were possible and potentially deadly. And the stuff in Amber’s lab was, perhaps, the most dangerous of the lot.

The meteorite was found in scrubland outside Tulsa, Oklahoma. The research team that found it noted the way it shifted when it was turned over as if something heavy and liquid was inside. They passed the meteorite up the chain to NASA, who, in turn, farmed the research out to Beltram. NASA was more a masthead for private enterprise at this point, Amber mused, trading her light coat for the sealed hazmat suit that was required for her research. She had to depressurize an airlock, reconnect her air tube, then re-pressurize, ensuring complete safety for the building. And humanity, she supposed. The contents of the meteorite were revealed and were both intoxicatingly fascinating and surprisingly dull.

When Beltram techs first drilled into the surface of the meteorite, it simply cracked open, like an egg. From within, the goo came. It was viscous, green-hued, a lazy slime that was now contained inside a glass tube in the center of Amber’s lab. Amber removed a clipboard from a mount in the sealed lab and made her initial observations of the goo. It sat there, just like it did every day. It was reactive, which they learned when administering low voltages of electricity. When Amber placed her hand against the glass tube, it moved to meet her touch. For warmth? Was it sentient or merely mindless attracted to heat?

“It is not a toy.”

Amber started, the voice of her supervisor coming through the speakers of the hazmat suit.

“I am aware, Dr. Richards. But I do have to do initial observations.”

The goo gurgled inside its container.

“I do not want a breach, Dr. Hayes. Not only would the cost and delays caused by a building-wide shutdown inconvenience our benefactors, but the press of such a breach of an unknown substance might cause us to lose funding altogether.”

“Of course, Dr. Richards,” Amber answered, glad that the stern director could not see her eyes roll up in her head. Amber thought the micromanaging nature of her boss could be chalked up to the fact that she was relatively young for such a position – Richards was in her early 40s – and that she was quite a beautiful, if icy, woman. One did not rise to the top as a woman of her talent and beauty without dealing with metric tons of bullshit for her gender.

“I want to see a summary of conclusions by tomorrow,” Richards said. She did not wait for Amber to answer. She was gone, retired back to her office.

Richards thought the green goo was dangerous, despite the fact that there had been no indication that the stuff was more than primitively reactive to its surroundings. For further study, they would have to get creative. To really understand the nature of this alien substance, Amber was sure they would have to get close.

Dave barely looked up when Amber entered. He was on the couch, which faced the door enough to note that his eyes didn’t even flit in her direction when she opened the front door. He had his headset on and a controller in hand, laughing and barking commands to his teammates.

In theory, Dave was a freelance programmer who cut his teeth working for an indie company on a reasonably successful independent game. That money had dried up and jobs were fewer and farther between. That meant Amber was footing the bill for Dave and his game sessions. And his food. And their last vacation, where he had barely bothered to thank her.

While Dave played another round of some loud first-person shooter on their oversized television, Amber changed into a pair of loose shorts and a tee. She had the small-but-shapely breasts that looked great without a bra, leaving her nipples to show off hard tips beneath the gray cotton. With her long legs bared by the shorts, she could give Dave a show of her body and casually slipped back into the living room from the bedroom, her pussy warming as she considered seducing Dave into an unexpected round of early evening lovemaking.

She moved to him and slid into his lap, her thighs on either side of his. She reached between them to his crotch. He hadn’t bothered to change out of sweats today, which was a little sad, but it did give her quick access to his cock. It was still soft, but she placed her hand over his flaccid meat and rubbed and teased. She bent to his ear, sucked his lobe into her mouth, and gave it a teasing bite.

“Hey,” he complained, shrugging her off his lap and ear with a roll of his shoulder and hips, “come one, you can see I’m in the middle of a match.”

Amber folded her arms beside her boyfriend, staring at his profile while he ignored her. Soon, his barking at his teammates resumed.

“Yeah, that’s my girl. She’s hella smart, dude. A scientist.” He winked at her on the couch beside him, ignoring the frosty look on her face. “I’ll have to perform my boyfriendly duties tonight, I guess. She is horny a shell, dude.”

Another snort and Amber was gone to the bedroom. She closed the door and slid her hand beneath the waist of her panties, stroking her clit until her pussy was flooding. She invaded her cunt with two fingers and rode them while her thumb pressed and circled her button. All the while, the sounds of machine gun fire and bombs exploding chased her, making her climax all the more difficult to reach. When it did, she gasped and promised herself she deserved better.