Morgan wasn't the only one who had noticed his virile state. He heard a giggle from an alleyway, and caught the flash of the unmistakable yellow wig of a prostitute. The girl said "You look like you can use some help, sir."
He turned to see a girl in her early twenties, a few years younger than Morgan himself. Before his change, prostitution had disgusted her, mostly because she saw herself, if magic proved to be a complete failure as a career, turning to streetwalking. Now when he looked at the girl he thought "nice tits, pretty face, wouldn't mind taking her right now."
"Five coppers for me, sir, and five for the room. It's right through here."
Ten coppers, Morgan thought, I can afford that.
"Y-yes" he croaked.
Once in the tiny room with a bed and a small cabinet, the girl quickly and efficiently divested herself of her clothes. For the first time gazing on the nakedness of a woman with masculine eyes, Morgan was struck still before the girl's impatient clearing of her throat got him as quickly, but far more messily, out of the clothes he had just donned for the first time less than an hour ago.
"Ooh" said the girl "that's a nice big one" as Morgan's rigid penis was revealed. And although Morgan knew that she probably said that to all her customers he was still obscurely pleased.