Chapter 4: Nude Biking ... July 2nd 2011

We eventually woke. In fact we both woke up at the exact same time just after ten-thirty in the morning. A car alarm, shrilling loudly somewhere outside, was the culprit. We were facing each other when we woke. Our legs were entwined. Our faces were inches apart.

For what seemed like minutes we watched each other without speaking. Eventually mom disengaged herself from me and slipped out of the bed we'd shared. I ordered breakfast from the room service menu while mom showered. Then we ate a leisurely breakfast. We didn't talk much.

Mrs. Clifford, first name Fiona, thirty-two years old, knocked on our door at just after twelve-thirty. She was already prepared for the ride. I'd just hopped out of the shower.

"Morning you two," she welcomed as she advanced past mom and into the room. Her breasts, midsized pointy ones and bare except for the painted designs on them, jiggled delightfully as she walked. And she caught me checking them out and didn't look displeased. She was wearing shorts though!

She turned back to mom and asked, "Have you chosen a design yet?"

"A design?"

"For your body painting. We've got to get moving."

"I'm not sure ... I'm tired this morning ... I don't think-"

"Oh no you don't. Bonnie, you are not backing out after coming this far. I'll make you look great - promise," Fiona exclaimed brightly as her eyes traveled around our room. They hesitated over our rumpled bed before moving on to the desk and the cans of paint on top of it. It was time for me to chime in.

"I saw some neat ones from last year's ride on the Onancock site," I said as I reached for my computer. A second later I had a picture open. "I thought maybe something like this for Bonnie," I said to Fiona who had moved over to my side. "Except maybe you could add a red swirl on each one under the yellow circles. I'm not much of an artist though. Maybe you've got a better idea."

"I told you last night I'd help." Looking over Fiona's shoulder I saw mom's eyes open in surprise. I hadn't actually told her that I'd asked Mrs. Clifford to help.

"I don't think--" mom started again but Fiona was having none of it. She'd already moved to mom's side and was reaching for the buttons that ran down the front of my mother's shirt.

"I don't like biking," mom whined softly, "I'm not in shape for it." As she talked her shirt slipped down off her shoulders. A second later mom's bra followed.

"They're beautiful," our new friend enthused as she took a second to contemplate the rounded surfaces she was about to paint. "And Bonnie, with legs like yours you could ride home to Blacksburg," Fiona scoffed as she undid the button on mom's shorts. I got the distinct impression that Fiona swung both ways.

Mom's tits, as I'd known they would be, were outstanding! Bigger and rounder than Fiona's they still rode high and firm on her chest in spite of her being in her thirties and the mother of two.

Meanwhile I, who'd just gotten out of the shower when Fiona had knocked on the door, was standing with a towel around my waist. I had nothing else on. I immediately got an erection as I watched Fiona examine mom's breasts. And it didn't take either of them long to notice it. My towel tent was at full erection!

"You're lucky," Fiona whispered to my mom as her eyes measured me. Mom, who caught me looking at Fiona, thought the erection had been inspired by Mrs. Clifford.

Mom's shorts and panties were removed next. "I have to see the whole canvas before I start," Mrs. Clifford explained to both of us through mom's protests. My mother had a neat, perfect triangle of dark, trimmed hair at the base of her stomach.

"They don't match your wig," Fiona said with a giggle as she lightly ran her hands through mom's curls. My cock started to bob up and down. He was going crazy. Then she said, "I'll fix that!"

She did! She spent the next twenty minutes painting my mother. I watched. Enjoyed. And each time mom's eyes sought out mine she caught me enjoying it. Fiona, a very observant young wife, didn't miss a thing either.

And then it was my turn. Mom at first turned away when Fiona uncovered me. But immediately turned back when she heard Fiona's appreciative whistle. I was erect. Fiona took her time painting me. And she wasn't shy in touching me while she worked. Or commenting on the impressive size of her 'canvas'. I could see that mom wanted to complain but she somehow held her words. She watched silently as another woman fondled her son.