"Where are you going at such an early hour?" Clare heard from under the hood. "Work." Clare simply said, and started marching down the driveway. "Dres...ed like that? You look like a hooker." She heard, and bit her tongue, not wanting to say what was exactly on her mind. "Clare, honey, did you want some breakfast?" She heard, but continued on her way. She had no intentions on speaking to the woman that dated her father, not now, not ever. Clare only hoped that she could get away from her father. Now just to be clear, I can understand the level of irony of referring to another “larger” woman as a whale, but that is something that developed between us and through our chats and through our love for each other. My whale loves to reveal her blubbery body to me, her sweaty folds glistening. She has shown me the depths that she will degrade herself to me (in private as most of it XH wont allow) and because of that I love her more because she is so willing to abandon any identity and totally. More

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