The last few weeks had been hectic.
Since Julian and Lira agreed to go independent, they had roared into business. Julian's contacts followed him, and within two days they had arranged several more 'appointments' for Lira to film and interview. (They've both decided they would actually
do
the interview part of the journalistic process, and that it should be done before the, uh, intercourse.)
Their days had been spent working, communicating with extra terrestrial embassies and contact centers, working with translation software providers, and writing up their interviews, insight reports and opinion articles to line up for their scheduled content stream.
Interaction from their audience was decent, and their ad revenue was stable, so they were in a place to think bigger. Lira, of course, was already thinking big - she wanted to begin political lobbying for equality of sentient beings, specifically through the lense of sexual contact for recreation.
She wanted to fuck the aliens without it being social suicide, basically.
The act, technically, wasn't illegal - it was more that, because of political segregation and how aliens were perceived by the public as 'colonisers', it was heavily frowned upon for anyone to voluntarily contact these beings, nevermind do what she was doing. (Most people weren't even aware of the specific species that had arrived on Earth, or how many there were.)
The anonymity, then, had been crucial. People knew Julian, and that he worked with 'the alien fucker', which she had since learned was her nickname. A few people knew he and Lira were together. Some knew they had gone into business together. Word would get out, eventually. All that meant, of course, was that she needed to find a case that would make her, the things she was doing, seem acceptable to the public beyond her devoted, kinky followers. They needed a case that would play well in the media, or even to a jury.
Having sex with aliens to chart their reproduction cycles, and write smutty round-ups online paid the bills, but it wouldn't get her any closer to breaking down that segregation, that social stigma.
So, even on their day off, Julian was off meeting contacts and chatting to leads, searching for that next job and hoping it would be the Big One. Apparently it was an important day, as Julian had worn his best suit - the one that highlighted his chest and arms in a way that seemed weirdly sexual. Bless.
Lira, on the other hand, was taking a recovery day. Yesterday had been a rougher-than-usual case, and she was still sore. Though, the thought of it made her blush and her hips, under her bedsheets, roll.
She had been up for maybe an hour, her lie-in agreed by her and Julian to be well deserved. It was past ten, and she had cleared her schedule for the day while Julian was working, giving her free reign to enjoy the day.
Her heavy eyelids lifted, and she rolled to Julian's side of the bed, smelling his pillow and smiling like a goof. She was falling hard for this guy, and it wasn't subtle. Between research and their other jobs day to day, they spent their time shagging like rabbits; an experience which was often heightened by their slimy alien 'friend'.
After their first date together, which had resulted in Lira admitting she was hosting a sex-obsessed forget-me-not, gifted to her by one of her 'clients', Julian had started to become more and more interested in the
practical
side of their endeavour. More questions about the way it had effected her, and whether there was room for an 'alternate take' on the subject of alien fucking. If it wasn't so enjoyable to watch him work his way towards it naturally, Lira would have outright asked him to join her on the last trip.
Wait
, she thought.
The Oozelich isnt in me - which means...
Lira started laughing to herself, giggling into the pillow at the idea that, sometime soon, the gut-residing slimeboy would start to abuse Julian's prostate, stretch him open, and fuck him until he blows. Wherever his meeting was, Lira hoped it was discreet.
Annoyingly, though, thinking about Julian and that slime had quickly gotten Lira in the mood, so she did what she always did on a rest day. She opened up a wall-monitor, and opened the video files from the day before. Julian had sorted the footage under the folder 'CoyleWorms', split conveniently into the separate cameras angles. Lira spent a moment arranging them all to sync up in four windows - two sides for opposite sides, one wrist-mounted, and one drone that was floating over the scene giving her a bird's eye view.
With the footage synced up, Lira got comfy under the covers, naked as the day she was born, one hand laying on her mons, while the other explored her chest, and pressed play.
The four windows showed differing angles of the same scene. It was an old warehouse, disused and forgotten to time, after whatever humans worked there had been moved out. The floor was a concrete base, coated in inches of this mucus and slime that Lira remembered as being oddly warm to the touch. Large floodlights has been installed by a team Julian had hired, as these creatures didn't require light to see, but of course the cameras did.
Geographically, they were just outside what uses to be Inverness, but there was no way to tell that from what was on screen - the warehouse was nondescript, with tall metal walls and strong but rusted rafters crossing the vast cieling. It was huge, and enclosed, which made it a perfect breeding ground for a specific type of alien colony - known to humans as CoyleWorms, they were these massive twenty-foot long, six foot across buggers; they had rubbery, slightly transparent orange flesh which rippled as they moved, dragging themselves through their naturally secreted fluids. The CoyleWorms themselves reminded Lira of sea cucumbers crossed with mealworms, but scaled up to stupid sizes; they had a mouth at one end, surrounded by a ring of soft 'teeth', which Lira had learned felt more like tongues; they didn't have eyes, and instead relied on taste to examine most things - including their mates. As Lira had discovered, or, in the video, was about to discover, the CoyleWorm had a rather... interesting adaptation when it came to its mouth - or, rather, mouths.
'Right,' Lira on the screen said, as the interview had concluded. 'Lets see what you do.'
Lira, in her bed, watched herself approach the fat, cylindrical beast, it's round 'face' reaching up slightly as though to smell her. On screen, Lira reached out to stroke the creature, her fingers contacting the soft fatty flesh. She was dressed in comfortable clothes - an oversized tee, which hung off her shoulder, with a bralet underneath, and stretch-fabric jeans. Her boots, a cheap waterproof material, slopped through the mucus as she moved towards her 'client'.
'The mucus secreted is thick and... not unpleasant to smell,' she narrated, her voice hitching slightly.
The wrist cam on her other hand caught the slight dilation of her pupils, and Lira recalled the rush that went through her at that point of contact. 'Ohh, wow,' she breathed, her hand stroking the worm-like creature. 'Physical contact features an, uhh, immediate effect - arousal, slight dizziness...
fuck