His waist about 42 inches with love handles on the sides. bluedenim jeans loose in the ass and holding tighter against thick legs. enormous feet.. u...sure of the size but much bigger than pigs size 12..We enter his home and it is pretty much a normal household. pics ofhim and his wife on the wall. a few of his children.. He turns and lightly pushes pig up against the closed door.."You seem like a nice guy.. I am trusting you not to fuck up.." "yes SIR"..."Strip"pig removes its clothing. Well Miss which one are you talking about. Yes we know about you and your dalliances with the local female population I must admit you are rather popular. Thanks Miss unlike you who cant get a boyfriend for love nor money Ive heard you talking too strange men my word some of them should be in a retirement home you would be better off sticking with Grandad ha ha ha. Now your being rather vulgar as well now I will be putting you outdoors during daylight hours if your not careful that will cool. His voice was different than usual, less solicitous. He wasn’t playing, she thought. Or perhaps he was; they both were. She wasn’t sure. She didn’t feel like she was pretending to be someone she was not, but rather only one part of who she was—this part, this “lover” part, this “adulterous affair” part, this “sexual” part of herself: for this night, or for at least these moments, abandoning all those other parts of her self. Leaving her public and her private world for her secret one,. ‘If you aren’t woman enough…’ Even though Melissa’s body was shaking with need, the words made her question herself. She began to wonder if, in fact the problem really did lie with her. ‘Please, Tom! Come back to bed,’ she said. ‘We…we can start over. If…if we make love again, maybe…’ ‘You just don’t understand, do you?’ Tom snapped. He began pulling on his jeans. ‘Tom, what…what are you doing?’ Melissa asked. ‘I’m going down to the barn!’ he snapped. ‘I need some sleep and I’d rather sleep in.