Harker was wandering a seldom explored section of the park when he came upon a young woman doing some sort of handstand. The woman held the pose without moving a muscle, and Harker had to wonder if it was a woman at all—maybe it was some sort of very lifelike statue. Cautiously he drew closer.

“You gonna stare at me forever?” the handstanding figure asked.

“Oh!” Harker jerked back. “You can talk.”

“Why should I talk?” the figure answered.

“You were so still. I thought you might be a statue,” Harker said.

“I’m not a statue,” the figure declared.

“I can see that now,” Harker said. “But how do I know you’re not a hologram?”

“Do holograms talk?”

“Possibly,” Harker said. “But maybe if I felt you—just to make sure?”

“If you must,” the figure said.

Harker knelt near. His hands reached out. One touched the figure’s sex, the other cupped the figure’s breast. The breast felt like a real breast. The sex felt like a real sex. Harker’s palm pressed the mound. His fingers caressed the clitoris, then separated the labia, then plunged again and again into the inner recesses, now slick, now slicker, now clamping rhythmically on Harker’s fingers.

“Oh Gosh, I guess you’re really real,” Harker blurted.

“Of course I’m real,” the woman said. “But how do I know you’re not a hologram? If I kicked you in the balls would that prove it one way or the other?”

Before Harker could answer, one way or another, the woman sprang out of the handstand, captured Harker’s head between her thighs, and fucked Harker’s face until he nearly drown in her pussy juice.

Big Trouble

(a bonus story)

“You guys are in so much trouble!”