Within an hour he was back and started work, sawing and measuring away in the spare bedroom. I had to use immense self-control not to masturbate while...I waited. I wanted to be at the height of my arousal for him. After about an hour I popped in to see how he was getting on, he had stripped off his shirt again and there was sheen of sweat covering his arms and chest. I sat on the spare double bed and watched him work, his muscular arms straining as he sawed the wood. I was at the point of no. Weird looking body with a huge belly nice big ass and big thighs but nothing on top at all. I mean fucken nothing.I pick her up in late afternoon and bring her to dinner in the evening. I tell her to wear a t shirt no bra because she doesn't even need one anyway for those titties. And she should wear shorts. So we get to the restaurant. Everyone is looking at your white wife with a black man. They know there is no bra and that huge belly looks a fucken mess. Bet they thought she was pregnant. I immediately figured he was trying to stay out of sight by the way he was hunched looking around. I went over and sat down beside him with my finger on the button of the stiletto waiting, to see if I was in any danger."Mr. Morgan, my name's Steve Ashton. I am undercover, working for the NSA. I was put in the Marshals Service to work for Dwight Medford, the supervisor you have nicknamed the runt." Why are you coming to me, Ashton? You are taking a big chance of being seen by coming here." I. As we rounded the corner, she took hold of my hand, and we walked the five minutes to the bus station, hand in hand, talking about nothing in particular. Another five minutes on the bus and we were at the cinema complex, where the gang were all waiting for us.We settled on Big Momma’s House, a comedy starring nobody we’d ever heard of, but we all decided we could use a few laughs. We’d just made the decision when everybody went quiet, and looked towards the front doors of the cinema.Cal was.