"I want to cover your pussy and stick to your pubic hair. I bet you have a lush black jungle of hair down there, don't you Jo? I would feel warm and oily on your pussy. Do you like to feel warm and wet down there? I would mix with your juices dripping from your pussy. I imagine how you smell great down there when you're sexed up. Oh, and I would sex you up. You would smear me all over your hand and then stick your finger inside your vagina pussy. Imagine what a great lubricant I am, your finger would slide in like a hot knife into butter."
Jo winced. She was chopping onions with a huge kitchen knife that did not look loving at all, so she did not appreciate the comparison. Not that she particularly appreciated Gurgle's ramblings in general, but she'd got used to the pervert's thoughts reverberating in her mind.
"Don't you wanna feel warm oily Gurgle in your pussy, Jo? Yeah, I'm sure you do. I bet you think about me when you rub your clit while masturbating. Rubbing good old Gurgle all over your crotch... Start slowly, Jo, take your time. Let me spread all over your crotch and splash me generously on clit's lips. Rub me gently and open up for me, Jo. When you're ready, slide me in, a lot of me into your pussy. Think about warm oily glistening Gurgle filling you up. I would stimulate your nerve endings inside your vagina with my bioelectricity. No men could do that for you."
"I guess stimulating the nerve ends in my clit would feel better, Gurgle," replied Jo and poured the chopped onion into the vat. Gurgle had soaked up with men's sexual fantasies, so he naturally believed that penetration was the most exciting part of the intercourse. Hardly surprising taking into account that they hung around predominantly male mining crews all over the Asteroid Belt. Jo sometimes wondered what he would be like if they worked mostly with women. Would he develop a more feminine sensitivity? Maybe then his telepathy would be more enjoyable.
"So, you rub me all over your clit..." Gurgle was quit to adopt, she had to give him that. This was one of the evolutionary advantages of all sentient liquids from Titan.
"I thought I already had. If the best you can come up with is rubbing you all over my clit for an hour, you're not exactly building up tension, you know?"
"...and rub and rub and rub and rub..."
Gurgle's fantasies were effectively over when he started repeating a phrase mindlessly like a broken record. She would occasionally tune in to his lewd ramblings while doing boring and repetitive kitchen stuff. Either this, or crappy golden oldies on the local AstroRock Radio played by some cheap AI instead of a decent human DJ. But now that Gurgle's telepathic stream degenerated into constant repetition of two words, she tuned out and pulled closer a box of carrots. They looked suspicious, even by the standards of the Nova Asteroid Mining Company. She took one of the vegetables, went to Gurgle's tank, opened the lid, and said, "Shut up for a second and check this." She didn't have to speak - directing her thought towards her helpmate would be enough, but she had never quite got used to telepathy without speech. She dipped the carrot in the yellowish liquid.
"...and rub... Whaa? Oh... Right. Well... that's not exactly a first-quality carrot, but what do you expect from the Company? Boil it to mush and they won't notice anything." Fortunately, incompetence was not one of Gurgle's numerous defects. Food scanners were required by law in all off-planet cookshops and sentient liquids from Titan were the cheapest option. No wonder the Company, constantly fixated on "improving cost-efficiency," preferred them to sophisticated and high-maintenance automatic scanners. Also, the last thing that the Company wanted was a massive bout of diarrhea on a distant isolated mining outpost.
When she was done with the carrots, she went to the store-room to get potatoes. Suddenly, she heard a clamor from the kitchen - a heavy thump followed by a splash. Her first thought was that the vat fell from the cooker somehow and she rushed to salvage whatever remained from the soup. Gurgle's tank was on the ground in the middle of the kitchen and the yellowish oily liquid was disappearing in the floor drain. Out of the corner of eye, she saw to door to the canteen closing.
"Fuck!" cried Jo. "Al, cut the kitchen drain! Gurgle's spilled on the floor!"
"I can't," said the station's mainframe in a soft masculine voice. "These valves can only be closed manually."
"Fuck! Then at least seal off the kitchen bilge well."
"The well sealed off," complied Al. Jo stormed into the canteen, but it was empty. Whoever pushed the tank off the table-top was already gone.
"Who was it, Al? Show me the security camera footage."
