Priscilla was an even bigger girl than Evelyn, barely under six feet in height and strongly built even though her hips were smaller and lean arms and legs lacking the long-toned musculature of the professional athlete that the Kiwi equestrienne certainly was. She weighed a matching solid hundred and fifty pounds, very little of it fat save her breasts, and was hardly used to being casually manhandled since she was too big to be dandled on her Father’s knee. So she was surprised at the ease with which her six inches taller husband swept her up into his massive arms and carried her as though she still was that little girl whose Father did the same thing when she broke an ankle in a fall from a tree. A genuinely smiling naked Evelyn held open the massive mahogany door as Jason stepped across
