nothing like painted on jeans

As mother and daughter swab your sticky contours with washcloths from a bucket of warm soapy water, Debi tries to better explain their plans for you.

"We would love it if you would work with us at our little shop here. We seem to be very like-minded and I think  we'd get on well. But you can sleep on that. What we'd really like is if you would join us tonight to hand flyers out around the mall to promote our opening tomorrow. We were going to wear our little quasi-uniforms, make sure we get noticed," Debi smiles, tweaking one of your nipples.

She continues."We don't have any extra teeshirts here, but we thought you might enjoy something else we had in mind."

Daughter comes to her mother's side as they have finished your spongebath. Debi wraps her arm around her. "Tempest has been dying to try the type of bodypainting they've done for the covers of Vanity Fair and such, where a celebrity is virtually nude, but painted so precisely that they look like they are fully clothed. Are you familiar with that?"

You nod your head, remembering a nude Demi Moore painted in a three-piece suit and some other Playboy type costume parties with similar bodyart. But you still weren't sure how this applied to you.

"So," she says, petting your shoulder, "we'd like to paint you into an outfit like ours."

"I'd be naked?" you ask incredulously.

"Well, yes, but it wouldn't look it. As you've seen, ours look painted on already, so it's not much of a stretch."

You see the look of want in Tempest's onyx eyes and cave in. "O.K."

"Now, you do understand, this work will take a few hours. Do you have the time? Can you take the wait?" 

"I want to do this," you try to assure yourself.

Mom smiles. Tempest gives you a big hug. "Thank you, Lacey."

 Tempest has you turn to your stomach to do the less complex back first. 

As her daughter brings over her paint kit, Debi tries to relax you for the long ordeal with a gentle massage. You feel as if you are falling into a meditative state as she gently works your back, neck, and temples as Tem begins to roll a layer of indigo over and between your asscheeks.

"It's good you have such a high tight ass, Lacey. It 'll be easy for me to paint the seams between your cheeks," Tempest purrs as she works.

"Just don't cover too much cheek, we want her to match ours," Debi laughingly instructs.

As Tem does  a light blue base coat across the top of your back to match their cutoff tees, Debi prepares to leave, grabbing her daughters outfit and managing to wriggle into the slender girl's cutoffs. On Debi's meaty ass, they truly were in the thong class. The cutoff tee barely covered the taller woman's cones.

"Mother!" Tempest cried, exasperatedly. "Those are my clothes!"

"I know, hon. I left you mine to work from. Yours might be a little small for a ..bigger girl."

"Obviously," Tem snorted, getting back to work.

"I'll be back soon. Chinese all right for supper?" quieried Debi.

You both nod in agreement.

Done with the simple painting of the tee back, Tempest returns to detail the cutoff's rear. You wriggle at her delicate brushstrokes on your delicate assflesh.

"Hold still!" Tempest mockscolds. "I'd spank you but the paint's not dry yet!"

"Promises, promises," you sing back to her.

Tempest finishes your rear just as Debi returns with supper. Debi aims a fan at your ass to aid the drying while you prop yourself up on your elbows to eat.

"Tem, that's just incredible! If I didn't know better I'd swear the little tart is lying there in a pair of cutoffs!" gushes Debi.

Tempest blushes sweetly. "MOTHER!"

"Can I see?" you ask, trying to crane your head.

"NO. Eat," Debi says motherly. "We've still got your front to go."

Minutes later, Tempest is again hard at work, painting the logo on your blue-covered breasts.

"Oh. I don't think I can take much more. Your brush is driving me wild! My nips and clitty are on fire!" you exclaim.

"Maybe if I keep your tongue busy!" exclaims Debi, peeling off the tight shorts and lowering her wet gash onto your face.

You tongue her cunt happily, finding a release for your pent-up frustrations. 

Tempest meanwhile, has finished the last of the brushwork on your denimed crotch. She decides to help, picking her widest brush handle and skewering your pussy to climax, careful not to mess her artwork.

Minutes later, as the bodyart has dried, the pair take you to a floor-length mirror. You are just shocked and surprised at the results.

"My God! Debi, you were right! Every ripple of fabric, every shadow, is there! If I couldn't feel the air on my skin, I wouldn't know I wasn't wearing clothes! You're amazing, Tempest!" With that, you turn to the blushing artist and french her passionately.

"All right! Enough of that! We've got work to do!" smiles Debi, waving a handful of flyers.

Shortly, the trio is working the mall corridors, attracting quite the attention, though nobody seems to realize you are not wearing a stitch. Except maybe the guy that just tried to goose your pants in the thickening crowd and felt nothing but girlflesh. But he wouldn't tell. It was 8o'clock and the crowd was heavy.

"Your father was supposed to meet us at the bottom elevator," Debi tells her daughter as they reach the tube.

"Daddy!" Tempest squeals as she jumps into the lap of a big dark man seated on a bench by the elevator.

"Hey baby!" he says as she and her mother quickly take the open seats, smiling conspiratorially. "And who is this?" he asks as you walk up.

"That's your new surrogate daughter Lacey. At least she already feels like part of the family," replies Debi.

"Well then, don't stand there. Pull up a seat on the old man's lap!" he laughs, pulling her gently to him.

Your eyes bug. Sitting nude on his lap, you can feel the biggest snake under your asscrack.