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full length, projecting from his
    clothing. Prior stepped toward her. The woman, alarmed, stepped back. “I’ll call
    the police!” He reached for her. She turned and ran, but was hobbled by her high
    heels. He lunged and caught her from behind. “Unhand me, you filthy pervert!” she cried. Prior hauled up her skirt and jammed the erect Spire against her thigh. She froze for an instant, then melted. “Quickly, please.” She hoisted her
    skirt up the rest of the way and labored to get her panties down. He was still behind her. It didn’t matter. The Spire quested across her thigh, up into her stout posterior, and found her crevice. It nudged to her suddenly eager vagina. She leaned forward and shoved back as it did so, facilitating the connection. In a moment it was buried half its length, which was all any normal woman could accommodate. But she was still pushing, trying womanfully to take it all in. The Spire had a marvelously conducive facility.
    Prior had full sensation. The woman’s bottom was solid, but the anatomy was all there, and he felt the vagina closing around the Spire as if it were his own flesh. He also felt the Spire changing shape, shortening and thickening, so as to be able to fit all of itself into the woman. She was a bit loose, but the added thickness made her become tight. The tip nudged her cervix, massaging it; sensation was so specific that it was like a map of the interior.
    “More! More!” she gasped, still shoving back as ably as she could man age in this standing position. Then she spied a telephone pole, grabbed on to it, and used it as a brace. “More!”
    Prior was now into it himself, experientially speaking, and did his best to oblige. He reached around her, caught the pole, and hauled his crotch hard into her. Now, suitably anchored, the Spire did its business. It sent Prior a gutwrenching orgasm and gouted so forcefully that the woman was lifted partway into the air. But she jammed against the pole and brought herself down to take it all in again. Only to be met by another gout, that not only lifted her, but squeezed seminal fluid out around the tight connection.
    “Ooo!” she groaned, going into her own orgasm. Her vagina clenched spasmodically, squeezing out more fluid. But as it relaxed, the third gout come, distending it yet again.
    This was too much. She rose right off the Spire and came down on her feet, the pale jelly pouring out. She had been heaved clear of the member. She scrambled to get back on it, her crotch dripping. There was a honk. The bus was coming! “Oh, dear!” the woman said. They hastily covered up. The Spire disappeared into Prior’s pants, and the woman jerked up her panties and jerked down her skirt. Gunk was still drooling from her, pooling in the panties, but she didn’t seem to notice. By the time the bus stopped, she was looking prim.
    “We must meet again, soon,” she whispered to Prior as she stepped into the bus. Then, to the front passengers who were staring, not quite sure of what they had seen: “I had a fainting spell. The kind gentleman managed to catch me and hold me upright. I’m all right now.” She paid the toll and took a seat. Prior almost thought he heard a squish as she did so; the Spire had really filled her up.
    SHE WON’T TELL, the Spire gouted. SHE LIKED IT TOO WELL. I MADE SURE OF THAT.
    It had nevertheless been a close call, Prior thought as the bus pulled away. The Spire could have gotten him into real trouble. Prior turned to go to his car, but the Spire made him pause. WHAT IS
    THAT? Apparently it could see through his eyes. He looked. “It’s a hospital. For sick or injured people. Nothing of inter
    est there.” WE’LL SEE. Oh, no! The Spire wanted to explore. “I really don’t recommend it.” NOW. So Prior walked toward the hospital. A businesslike nurse pushing a gurney intercepted him at the side entrance. “You can’t come in here. Go to the front.”
    Prior stepped close to her. “It’s my