Half way through the term, the instructor was in an auto accident (she's fine.) I decided to transfer to another class rather then bail on the term. T...he administration offered me a number of possibilities. I ended up in "The Art of Marketing." Silly me, it had nothing to do with art. It was more like the Art of Manipulation or Art of the Con. I think my negative attitude had more to do with the instructor then the subject.I called him "The Bastard." If you were to take every hackneyed. Our honeymoon night wasn't anything like what most newly married couples honeymoon night was like. For one thing, I had no further part in it, other than having arranged for four different 'Mandingos' to arrive at our honeymoon suite several hours after the wedding ceremony service, and the wedding reception after words, was over! As our families wished us well as we were driving away from the church, they had no clue that Marisa and I were embarking on something quite outside the pale of 99.9%. I cried out in surprise at the size of him. He had the largest cock that I had ever felt. I sat up and began riding him slowly, acclimating myself to him. I reached behind me and loosened my bra. He reached up, and began working a nipple, slowly and gently at first, but intensifying like his kiss had. Under his skillful manipulations I could feel myself working to orgasm. I steadied myself by placing my hand on his stomach, and tightening my grip on him with my legs. I came hard. He slowed. It was a bit of a shock that it was my mum's foot and not my wife's. I caught her foot in my hand and couldn't help enjoying my mum's nylons."Come on Michelle, join me here at the top of the ladder!" said Mum.Now each of them had a foothold on my cock, so to speak. They were both enjoying it, too. I decided to relax and enjoy it, my hand cupping both squirming silky feet as they played in my lap. They both had silly grins on their faces and Mum ran her tongue seductively over her bright full.