It was a far cry from my mom, who wasprobably happy I was gone.Even her eggs, just yellow mush to most, tasted like home. Despite allmy mom's faults, ...she was a decent cook, and the little things she did,like cut off the crusts of my sandwiches, or how she perfectly mixed thegrape jelly and peanut butter, so the latter wouldn't stick to the roofof my mouth. It was the little things, but it was those same littlethings that threatened my existence.She had managed to pry open my mouth on so many. My cock was a poor surrogate for the warmth and moisture that her secret path of pleasure would be and was in my mind. I raised the palm of my hand to my tongue.I tasted my own spit. There was the slight hint of stale piss and… yes, it was there too. The salty taste of my cum as it was building into a flood within the swelling girth of my penis. I closed my eyes and I saw the form of her etched upon the inside of my eyelids. The only difference was she now moved and came to life. My cock. She stood in front of the mirror still admiring her body, the crop top revealing the perfect amount of cleavage whilst not revealing all. She knew what she wanted and how to get it. Clara thought to herself that this had been the case since high school. She knew she had developed before the other girls....and that the boys had noticed. And she played up to it, Clara was a Nympho and proud. She didn’t know exactly what is was when she first started leading the boys on. But she knew they wanted. Edited by RichardFern knocked on my back door and stood there with the morning light shining behind her. I could see straight through her nightie and her cute figure was breathtaking. Her long, slim legs looked even longer due to the shortness of the nightie.“I’m not wearing any panties Uncle Mike, can you tell?” she asked.“Oh, I can tell. With the sun behind you, you look almost naked.”“Almost, that’s not good enough for a naked breakfast.” And with that, she pulled off her only covering.If I.