“Mister Tarkenton!” said the other man. Even if the photographer hadn’t been there, Brad would have smelled reporter before the man said another...word. “I’m Jerry Renner from the News-Herald. Are you here to get married Mr. Tarkenton?” The photographer took a picture of George and Brad. “Is it true you’re marrying a prostitute?” asked Jerry, with a slight sneer.Brad reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat. “I have something here for you Mister Renner,” he said, smiling. He unfolded the. I felt pity and asked him to come closer. Surprisingly, my wife did not protest. As he came closer, I asked him whether he had any experience in the past, to which he replied negative. I asked my wife to let him mount her, since she liked straight sex (neither anal nor fellatio). She agreed.My wife lay on her back, fully naked now, with legs widely spread. She warned my son not be rough, as his dad many times was. She told her the she would help him glide inside her. Now I told my wife to suck. Dick, you look like you’re in heaven surrounded by all of those beautiful ponygirls.”A stocky muscular man with wavy brown hair adjusted his tan sport jacket, looked into the camera and raised a microphone to his lips. “I am indeed Bob, I am indeed,” he said as he approached a beautiful creamy skinned redhead ponygirl and her trainer. Copious amounts of saliva trickled past the thick black rubber bit gag that her white teeth chomped on and splashed down to her pierced tits in long clear. That room used to open on exams days only and remain closed during the rest of the days.It was Saturday, half-day obviously. I was in the class. Long math class finally ended at 12:30 pm. Now, it was time to return to our campus hostel. Me: Ahh, finally! Long holiday.Rajiv: Avanti! Oh boy! What happened? Are you not going?Me: No, I will go on the college bus at 4.Rajiv: Okay then, see you on Monday.Me: Bye.Then I gazed all around seeing who have left. I saw one girl sitting on my backside.