"“Mom should we tell Daddy?” “Hon, he would be so proud of you too but let’s keep this between us. Okay? Some things should be just between mo...hers and sons and, in this case, also your Aunt Helen. Don’t tell your father, I said it, but no man can give a lady as much pleasure as a young stud or even a colt like you.” “Okay, Mom. Can we do this again?”“Sure honeybunch. Anytime you feel that little pain or itch. The best time will be when Daddy goes to work in the morning. Just stay in bed until. We got to talking about lycra wear and how awkward it can be in such places when you need to piss. Jon said he did not mind who saw him. I replied that I was a bit shy about such things. Remounting bikes we started to climb inland until we reached the shade of the country park woodland where we stopped for a drink by one of the streams, relaxing into the long grass. Jon went for a pee, dropping his lycra shorts to reveal an ample sized clean shaven cock, with his hand lingering on it longer. It was worse than herding cats.Supplies were a great source of problems. No one had located the gasoline trucks that were to be part of his portion of the convoy. He just hoped that when they found them that they would have gasoline in them.As part of a multi-national effort, just talking to each other was an issue. In some cases, it was just a matter of heavy accents. In other cases, it required a translator. That made coordination almost impossible. Someone would say something and it would be. One of the outcomes of this was that their new closeness ended up changing the balance of our group dynamic. Before, it had been me, and the four girls. After they had banded together, trying to talk me out of sharing them with Don, it became the four girls and me. Together now, they sensed their combined strength was greater than mine was alone. This was probably a lot healthier way for them to look at it, but it took me awhile to adjust to the subtle differences this change was bringing to.