I don't think I had a favorite.I don't think I paid enough attention.And when I did -- kids were kids.I mean I LIKED them.But they were my brother's f...mily.Not mine.I'm trying to sort out my first clear memory of heras Jnot as "little girl" brother's daughter"(why do I usually say "brother's daughter," not "niece"?)I noticed her as a woman:as mouth, eyes, breasts, the restin that ordertender, pursed, full lower lipbrown, shy, teasingsmall but perceptible"dirty blonde," lithe, T-shirt and jeans. We finished our brunch and I drove but could not stop thinking about what Rhonda had said. The more I thought about it my pussy would tingle and get wet. For the next several days I thought about my own son and his lack of socializing due to too much time playing on the computer. At the age of my son, Mike, he should be out chasing girls and hanging with his friends. I called Rhonda and asked her for more details and that night I dreamt about teaching my son Mike all about women and how to. I removed my dress and underwear. Laid on the bed and called him to the bedroom. As he entered I spread my legs and asked if I was what he wanted something to eat. In a low moan he said oh yes but what about Tim. I told him I have had black men before and he did not know.He knelt down beside the bed told me he had never seen a mound so full; he began to tease my pussy with his hot breath and long tongue. He made small circles around my hot button I felt it swell till it I thought it was going. I felt defeated, but I knew it was only proper etiquette to unlock the door and see who was doing the knocking. No surprise, it was the only other guy in the store, save the clerk. He quickly stormed into the booth with me and closed and locked the door. I still had one hand on my limp dick, as we faced each other."Why didn't you let me in before?" he asked, sounding annoyed."I…I couldn't get it up," I explained lamely. He smirked, and looked at me with contempt. "That's bullshit, old.