From his immediate disgust with her, Mark had no trouble instantly pushing the pig woman away. He spat in disgust despite the fact that not a drop of her saliva had so much as touched his throat, instead spitting solely because of the terribly nauseating kiss he'd just suffered. For a moment he coughed for the same reasons, but soon his attention turned back to the pig woman, who still eyed him lustily and who, by all appearances, was ready to screw him where he stood.
At this point, Mark had many choices. He could have lapsed into a brief display of bravery, fighting off and subduing the terrible beast before him. He could have given in to her urges and simply allowed her to have her way with him. Better yet, he could have attempted to reason with the creature, whose somewhat human form implied somewhat human intelligence. However, Mark was not a brave warrior, nor an apathetic fool, nor even a great diplomat. Mark was merely an average, regular man, and he did what any average, regular man would have done in his situation: he turned and ran, arms flailing and screaming as though he'd seen the face of death itself.
The pig woman tried to follow the fleeing coward, but she was at a disadvantage. While his terror allowed him to move at a stupendous speed, she moved slowly. Every few steps, she stumbled on her feet, falling to her hands and then barely managing to rise again, all the while traveling as though she'd never run on two legs in her life. It took Mark only moments to escape her, finally stopping well after escaping her view to sit and catch his breath on a park bench.
For this wholly ordinary man, grasping what had just happened was impossible. His definition of "strange" was when his morning bacon was slightly overcooked or his cubicle seemed somewhat more cluttered than usual, so this animal woman attempting to rape him left him in a very deep state of shock. How could he continue his regular life knowing that such a being existed, that it would do such things without provocation, that it had already touched him, forced itself upon him? How could he possibly claim to be ordinary when he had experienced something so extraordinary? It didn't take him long to reach a decision: he would deny everything. If no one else knew, then no one else could question his ordinary little life.
However, it seems that fate had once again conspired against this poor fellow and his endless yearning for such a regular life. Even as he'd merely touched the monstrous being he now sought to forget, his normal life had come to and end. Of course, this was unknown to him. He did not feel the virus that had managed to reach his face rewriting his genetic code, did not feel it changing his very human DNA to something that was very much not. Even as the virus finished working away at his face and, unable to defeat his immune system, barely completely its task, he noticed nothing of it. Nothing, that is, until he heard a snort. He looked wildly about for its source, but the pig woman was nowhere to be seen. Even so, the snorting had grown faster, more panicked. It was closer than he'd thought as well, much closer. Seeking its source, he looked no further than his own nose, and immediately emitted a terrified squeal on seeing it, for where his once average nose had been there now stood a rather long and hoggish one. He grabbed at it, vainly pulling to make it go away, but in doing so only managed to find yet another change, in that his mouth had changed just as his nose had to form a complete pig's muzzle. Again, he squealed in horror, his mind racing for any solution to this problem, for without one his regular life would be quite irregular from that point on.