‘Yeah, that’s her. And the guy is the man she was always with, for a whole year in that hotel room. His name was William Weston, or Warburton, or ...omething like that.’ ‘Walker?’ Jane asked. ‘Yeah, that’s it. William Walker.’ The younger male spies gathered around Jane and her snapshot, their eyes bugging out as much at W’s 10-inch cock as at Wendy’s inviting naked curves and big-nippled 40- inch chest. ‘Where did you get that photo?’ the story-teller asked. Jane put her index finger to her. It didn’t take long to determine that the Thingy goes off only around women. Not all women, not by a long shot. It only went off once in a while, and it never seemed to do its thing the same way twice. That’s all I knew for sure. I ended up learning the most from carrying it on my bus route downtown. There were these two women that rode the same line that I did who set the Thingy off pretty regularly. Some days the Thingy did nothing around either or both of them, some days it would go off. More

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