Dominate the swine

While just the thought still makes you feel a bit queasy, you know it would be much easier to deal with one pigman than a whole village. Of course, that mean's you'll have to bed the beast. Granted, you've already experienced more than one incredible orgasm from the smelly thing, but if anyone were to ever find out, your reputation would be ruined! You silently assure yourself it won't come to that, you'd sooner fry Gus up for bacon than allow him to brag about his conquest.

First, you have to convince him not to zip you up, though that won't be hard. Poor Gus, those fat fingers are still struggling with the task. "But why should you let Big Daddy have all the fun?" You coo slyly, trying feebly to sound as innocent as possible. Of course, Gus doesn't realize what a bad actress you are, it's clear his small brain isn't getting enough blood right now. "You caught me, I'm your ****." The words even taste vile in your mouth, though it's possible your still tasting his sloppy saliva.

Another of those awful smiles greets you as Gus begins to come around to your way of thinking. "Gus did find first. You real pretty," He repeats, as if his vocabulary has reached it's peak. The longer he gawks at you with his mouth flopping open, the more disgusting the task at hand seems. But it's the safest bet, a piggish servant could serve you well until you find real aid.

But it's too late to back out now, already the flabby brute is unclasping his overalls. It's almost sickening to watch his portly body shrug free of the denim, but a sharp gasp escapes your lips at the when his procine prick springs into view. While it might not be as thick as you expected, Gus has a surprisingly long tool, it would have easy touched his knees if flaccid. But right now, it was hard as iron, and pointing right at you. Of course, the most noteworthy feature was it's shape, the meaty spiral of a pig's curled manhood. For just a second, you reconsider your offer, but before you can complain, that slimy snout mashes between your juicy mounds, Gus has buried his face into your cleavage! Again his fingers tug at your zipper, sliding it down to reveal that not only are your nethers still moist from moments ago, but a fresh supply of womanly juices is gushing free from your needy quim. Even if you'd rather not admit it, a part of you does want this.