Chapter 5: Mom ... July 2nd 2011

My mother started to complain the second we were safely back inside our room. Of course I wasn't going to let her get away with that!

"You loved it," I scoffed at her first words.

"I did not!"

"And no wonder, you were the most beautiful woman on the ride or on the beach."

"I was not."

"Admit it. It was fun."

"It wasn't!"

"You loved all the attention." We both had and we both knew it. There is something almost inexplicably exciting about showing yourself publicly after having spent your whole life being told that public nudity is wrong. And when your mother is at your side the whole experienced becomes surreal and exhilarating. And I knew that mom had felt the same.

"Didn't! And now I'm sore."

"Sore where?" I asked.

"Between my ... down ... oh forget it." Mom's pussy was sore? From the cycling? "And I'm all sticky," she complained as she ran a finger across her breast and the paint that covered it. Paint that was now gooey and uncomfortable.

"I'll wash you," I said, then took her hand and before she knew what was going on, started to lead her to the bathroom. "And put lotion on your sore parts."

"You can't," she protested when she figured out what I was suggesting. I walked her into the large, marble floored shower.

"And who's going to wash your butt and make sure every single drop of blue and red and yellow paint is removed from your beautiful body?" I asked as I turned on the water.

"I'm your mother." But her words were a statement, not a rejection.

"No, you're Mrs. Bonnie Tyler, a poor neglected professor's wife who's decided to give a remedial course in body painting to one of her husband's engineering students," I answered as I started to lather up mom's back.

"You're incorrigible. And a very bad boy," she admonished even though she allowed me to continue. Actually we both were bad. An eighteen year old son and his thirty-six year old mother, both naked except for some paint, yours truly with an erection, standing together under the warm water drizzling down on us from the multiple shower heads, still pretending that this had nothing to do with sex. We both knew exactly what was going to happen but neither of us were even going to mention it.

The paint I'd bought for our disguises turned out to be significantly more difficult to remove that either of us had anticipated. It wasn't quite as water soluble as advertised. Which turned out to be a pretty good thing.

I spent five minutes clearing mom's back and butt. And I enjoyed it. Especially her ass! The highlight was sliding a soapy finger down her crack and then slipping its first joint inside her anus. She groaned.

"Don't."

"There's some paint just there," I whispered in her ear as I moved my finger inside her.

"Is there? Are you sure?"

Mother did my back and bum next. She took a more businesslike approach than I had, less caressing and more rubbing. Still I couldn't help thinking as she worked on the cheeks of my rear end that she did slow her hands down as she'd run them over my ass. My cock of course was huge!

Mom's breasts! They were next. And proved very hard to wash. Or that's what I told mom as my fingers explored every inch of her rounded hills. I took extra time on her nipples. In fact her left one proved particularly troublesome.

"Honey..." A whispered groan as I twirled the hard nub between my fingers.

"Almost got it all," I answered as I gave the beautiful bud one last squeeze. My hand slid off her tit and then slowly moved down across her stomach. "But I'm afraid this is going to be much more difficult," I said as my fingers moved across her pubic mound. "Especially the hair."

"Don't! I'll do it. Please honey," my mother begged even as one of my fingers found her clit.