Chapter 1

“Heidi, get your lazy butt up! You promised you would help me feed the homeless this thanksgiving,” My mom’s annoying voice woke me up. “ We are going to give until it hurts,” she chuckled playfully. My mom seemed so chipper in the morning. I couldn’t understand how she could be so excited about an afternoon of hard work and some poverty-infested homeless shelter.

“Go away, it is Thanksgiving Break, let me sleep in,” I groaned. My mother could be annoying and persistent, but over the past year, she has become much more laid back and polite.

“If you don’t want to go, then you can take that up with your father. I am not going to argue with you, young lady!” she popped me on the butt and tried to get me out of bed. I was resistant, but I had promised to help.

My older sister Mandy and my brother Luke promised to help as well. I don’t know why we did that. My mom volunteers every year around the Holidays at a Homeless shelter. Usually, we find ways to weasel out of it. This year she gave us this impassioned speech about helping others who are less fortunate and how much better it is to give rather than receive, and we totally bought it. Mom seemed to sincerely believe that it gave her pleasure to do for others.

This past year she has really changed. She used to be a harsh taskmaster and demand we all do our share of chores. A year ago around her Birthday, she told us that she’d be doing all the chores, including the yard work to ensure it gets done correctly. If my brother doesn’t want to get up from his Xbox games, he just calls for her, and she comes running. It was an astonishing change in her behavior. I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

My mother laughs a lot, and I know her and my dad have recently started recharging their sex life. We hear a lot of weird noises coming out of their bedroom. I don’t tease her much about it, though, because I don’t want her nose in my sex life either. I had just come off a breakup with a boy for cheating on me, and I was recently single. I didn’t want her up my ass when I get with a rebound boy to take my mind off the breakup. That meant I didn’t say anything about the wild-sex noises we could all clearly hear at night but never mentioned at the kitchen table.

My mom is built like a “Brick-shit-house” and has enormous knockers. Recently, I’ve noticed she has started walking around the house, showing them off more and more. I totally wish she wouldn’t do that. I had to kick my boyfriend under the table because he wouldn’t stop staring at her the one and only time I brought him over to meet my parents.

My older sister is a bubbly blonde and kind of a slut. She doesn’t have a boyfriend – she thinks monogamy is over-rated. “Why should I pick one guy who might disappoint me when I can pick a bunch of guys to disappoint me?” she likes to say.

I am a Brunette, and I have long, straight hair. I’ve got big boobs like my sister but not anywhere close to the gargantuan knockers my mother has. I have a big butt too. My mom shows me pictures of her at my age and says that she looked just like me back then. I like to joke that any resemblance is because they used to use those old-timey flash-cameras back then, and the resolution was extremely low. It is true though, I am a dead ringer for her in the face. I am bookish and like to dress a little on the Goth side. I don’t mean Hot Topic Goth, but I like to wear Doc Martens boots and all black.

My younger brother Luke has curly brown hair and likes to videogame. He was wearing a sweater with the caption “Just a dude being a dude” written on it. I think that pretty much sums up his personality. He is goofy, smart, and while I know he is a pervert, he has been a pretty decent little brother. My sister and I like to play little practical jokes on him or tease him, but he gives us back almost as much as we give him.

“Now remember what I told you,” my father said sternly to my mother. I am all for female equality, but my parent’s relationship seems to work. My father is definitely the head of the household, the primary breadwinner, and he makes all the important decisions about money. It didn’t use to be that way. They used to have a lot of stress and arguments all the time. As I mentioned, I don’t know if it was couple counseling or just the good sex, but a year ago, it all seemed to straighten out.

My sister was wearing a skimpy off-the-shoulder top and a denim mini skirt that came down to mid-thigh. It was pretty typical of her to wear something skimpy. We live in Georgia, and the weather around Thanksgiving was actually pretty warm. I might have teased her about wearing something that provocative around a bunch of creepy homeless dudes if it wasn’t for what my mom had on.

My mom wore a simple white T-shirt with the words “I Give Until It Hurts” and the Homeless Shelter logo on it. The shirt might seem reasonably innocuous on anyone else. It was apparent she didn’t have on a bra under the shirt, and her huge nipples were bulging out of the shirt.

“Mom, do you really think that is appropriate?” I asked her.

“Yes? What is wrong with it, Mandy?” my mom said. She pointed out it was the official T-shirt of the Homeless Shelter, and they would give us one to wear when we arrived to volunteer.

“You aren’t wearing a bra,” I reminded her politely.

“Oh god, you sound like your Grandmother,” my mom dismissed my concern like it is nothing. “I am going to be working in a hot kitchen all day. Trust me when I tell you that you won’t want to wear an uncomfortable underwire bra if you work in the kitchen,” she said.

Dad seemed fine with it, and my bratty little brother even chuckled.

“I think I’ll keep my bra on,” I said dismissively.

“Suit yourself,” my mother turned to give my Dad a long kiss. He put his hand on her big butt and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Gross, get a room –you two!” Mandy teased them playfully.

“We are setting a good example for you kids. You don’t want to grow up in a household that is afraid to show affection. I love my husband, and he loves me. We aren’t afraid if anyone knows it,” My mom explained politely with a big loving smile on her face.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Mom! It’s just you know, like, weird or something?” my ditz of a sister apologized if her comment came off snarky.

My mom had already loaded up the car, and she told us to get in. Dad bought her two things for her birthday last year. A brand new white Toyota Rav/4 and a shiny silver braided chain necklace. I don’t know which gift she loved more. She never took off the necklace, but she seemed downright orgasmic when she sat down in the driver’s seat.

My brother called Shotgun. We knew better than to argue. Mom had been playing favorites a lot lately, and Luke got away with just about everything. I didn’t mind sitting in the back, though. As the middle child, I almost always had to sit in the backseat.

We couldn’t talk on the way to the homeless shelter because she turned up the music really loud. It was extremely embarrassing to watch my mother dance in her seat. “C’mon, everybody! Sing along! You know the words! She-Bop! She-Bop, A Loo-Bop! Ooh! She-Bop!” she jiggled and wiggled like she had ants in her pants.

At the Red Light, I asked her if everything was okay because my mom was fidgeting uncomfortably. “Do you have a rash or something?” I said because I noticed she kept lifting her huge tits and then letting them drop before rubbing herself.

“No, It is just a little hot in here,” my mom was sweating, but she had the A/C cranked up so high that her nipples were literally poking up in her shirt. My mom’s nipples are thick enough that they could almost pass for two tiny cocks.

“What is wrong with, Mom?” I asked my sister in a whisper.

“Like, what do you mean?” My sister was barely paying attention. She was looking at her phone and texting. She could be very shallow and empty-headed. I don’t know why I even bothered to ask. I told her how mom was acting.

“I don’t know. She has been such a head-case recently. As long as she doesn’t bark orders at me and give me a hard time for sneaking out with my friends, then I am cool with it,” Mandy said. I asked Mandy what she meant.

“The other day I wanted to go to that big Homecoming party. I snuck out, and when I came back in the house, Mom caught me. She just smiled and said that it would be our secret and let me go to bed. The next day nothing happened. She can pretty much do whatever she wants. Hey, look at this,” My sister put her phone in my face.

There was a picture of a man’s uncircumcised cock, and the caption was two eggplants, a rainstorm, and a devil face.

“Some random dude on Facebook DM’d me a pic of his dick. He is old enough to be Dad’s age!” she chuckled.

“You think that is funny?” I curled up my lip in disgust.

“Don’t guys ever send you dick pics, Heidi?” my sister looked like she felt sorry for me if they didn’t. I told her that they did all the time.

“What do you do about it when they do?” she asked. I said that I sent back a lengthy diatribe and explanation of how unsolicited dick pics were an invasion of my privacy and offensive.

“Does it ever stop them from sending more dick pics?” she asked playfully.

“No,” I admitted.

“I just tell him to send more and laugh. I guess it is kind of flattering,” Mandy was far more open-minded about sex than me. I didn’t mind sex with a guy I liked, but I didn’t want random pictures of old men dicks.

We had to pass through a bad neighborhood to get to the homeless shelter. I wished my mom would step on the peddle and hurry but she seemed to be enjoying the drive – even making it take much longer than it should have. She just kept bopping up and down and grinning at us.

“Will you hurry up, Mom?” I finally urged her to speed up.

“Oh? Are you in a hurry to start serving the homeless?” Luke grinned at me. He could be such a little jackass sometimes.

The homeless shelter was in an even worse neighborhood after the first one we drove through. It was like a war zone that people continued to live in for some reason. It seemed like something out of a movie to me. I guess mom was right that I did not really understand the reality that these people have to deal with on a daily basis. I felt a little guilty for my life of privilege. I do take it for granted. I still wanted to get this chore over with and back home as soon as I could.

We saw a black woman with straggly hair walking down the street in a white tank top and a pair of striped panties with no shoes. She was holding her son’s hand and walking him into a Wendy’s.

I wondered what her reality was like that she could walk around her neighborhood in broad daylight in panties. She didn’t run, hide or act like there was anything wrong with it.

We saw bums on the street drinking wine. We stopped at a gas station. It had barred windows and a sign on the front that said only one customer in the store at a time. I had to wait for someone to leave to come inside and use the bathroom.

“Bathroom? No bathroom,” the Indian guy at the counter said.

“Yes, Bathroom. You have to have a public restroom,” I insisted. I really had to pee.

“No, Bathroom,” The Indian guy repeated.

“I am a paying customer,” I said, and I put a pack of gum on the counter with a credit card.

“Thank you, come again,” the Indian man ran my credit card and charged me but didn’t let me use the bathroom.

I went to tell my mom about it. She was pumping gas. Her skirt flew up, and she acted like she didn’t even notice.

“Are you wearing panties?” I asked her as I approached her at the gas pump.

“What? Why? Are you?” she asked defensively.

“Yes, but I have on jeans. I just saw your skirt fly up,” I said.

“Just sit in the car, Heidi,” my mom looked nervous, and she bounced slightly like she had to pee.

“I have to go pee. The store owner wouldn’t let me use the bathroom,” I said.

“You live in a world of white privilege where stores are always open and clean. They always provide adequate bathrooms. This trip is going to really teach you to value what you take for granted. Do you want me to show you where the public restroom is here?” she asked me.

“Not really because it sounds like it is going to be gross, but I have to go,” I admitted. I was doing the pee-pee dance to try to prevent myself from peeing my pants.

When my mom finished pumping the gas, she told Luke she was taking me to the bathroom. He nodded and then took me behind the store to the dumpster. It smelled of hot garbage and urine, and there were flies everywhere.

“I am not going here,” I insisted.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll stand in front of you if you are afraid of anyone watching,” My mom looked at me like I was being needlessly difficult. I was difficult, but when she mentioned someone might be watching, I got even more paranoid. I wondered if there were homeless men in the woods staring at us.

“Yeah, Heidi, Homeless men stake out this dumpster all day just in case a pretty little teenage girl comes back here to take a shit. Is that your theory?” she asked me. It was a rhetorical question. “It is just piss. Everyone does it. Here I’ll go first,” my mom said.

She squatted down and lifted her skirt up. I looked away, but I could tell my mom shaved her pussy bald. I shaved too, but I didn’t think women her age did. I heard the trickle of piss, and then my mom giggled and stood up.

“Gross? What about toilet paper?” I asked.

“Stop being such a baby, Heidi,” My mom chided me. “You can air dry or do you want me to get you a napkin from inside the store?” she asked.

I told her I did, but when she went to leave, I told her to stay with me. I was still afraid someone might jump me while I was squatting behind the dumpster. I pulled down my jeans and squatted over a relatively debris-free area of the cement and started to piss.

“Hey mom, give me some money for Beef Jerkey!” Luke insisted as he walked around the corner of the gas station and caught me with my pants around my ankles. I gasped and screamed, and he chuckled.

“Get out of here, Luke!” I insisted in shock. He caught me mid-piss, and if I stood up and pulled up my pants, he would have seen more.

“Wait? You are mad at me because I walked behind the gas station? I had no idea you would be back here taking a shit,” he laughed.

“I am not taking a shit!” just the saying the words out loud mortified me – much less the mental image of him watching a big turd fall from my ass.

“Well, whatever you are doing,” Luke harrumphed. “You got piss all over your combat boots,” he said like he was talking down to me. How dare my little brother talk to me that way. I was too mortified to put him in his place. It really shook me up anyone would dare talk to me that way. Luke was strangely cavalier like he was above me in the family hierarchy. It really irked me.

Gross, I had piss all over my Doc Martens. He stayed and didn’t look away while my mom fished around for some money to give him in her purse. Meanwhile, I had to remain squatting the entire time, or he would have seen more than my naked butt when I stood up.

“Gosh, you act like the world will end if someone sees you naked,” my mom said when Luke finally left, and I pulled up my jeans.

“He is my brother!” I insisted.

“You two used to take baths together all the time. I remember a time when I couldn’t get you to put on a pair of panties just to go outside and play in the sprinklers,” she teased me.

“That was when I was little. I’ve matured a lot since then,” I said.

“You really think it is mature to squeal like a little girl if someone sees your fat-little tush?” My mom said. “Luke has seen butts before. I think if you had acted like it was no big deal, he wouldn’t have given you such a hard time. You made it easy for him to tease you,” my mom said. Her words made sense, but I didn’t want to take her advice.

Luke had already told my sister what happened behind the gas station when I got back.

“Oh my god, you pissed behind the gas station? That’s hilarious. I should have taken a picture of that and sent it to that dude who sent me his dick pic,” my sister teased me. She DM’d him my name, and he sent me a picture of his dick.

The subject header was, “There is something I want you to see.”

“You are so awful,” I laughed. The guy wrote, “I live in India. Show me the Tits now, bitch.” I said that it was probably that nasty old cashier in the store.

“Oh my god, can you imagine if I walked in the store and showed him that dick pic and said that I knew it was his? Then if he denied it, I demanded he prove it to me by whipping it out?” Mandy was smirked. She loved to talk about doing wild stuff like that, but she rarely ever acted on it.

“You wouldn’t have the balls to do it,” I joked.

“I wouldn’t have had the balls to take a bit shit behind the gas station in front of Luke either,” she laughed.

“I didn’t take a shit,” I whispered and clarified that I had only pissed. I was angry that Luke told her that.

“Oh? Just piss, yeah, I’d probably have done that,” Mandy offered a churlish grin.

It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the homeless shelter after that. My mom explained that most of the people here are not crazy, stupid, or lazy. “They may have made some bad choices. We all make bad choices. I know I have. We are here to give to them and not judge them. I don’t want you looking down your nose at them. Heidi and Mandy this goes for you most of all. You are beautiful girls, and you are both extremely vain. A lot of these men are going to say dirty and disgusting things to you. I can’t tell you what to do, but my advice is to smile and pretend it didn’t offend you. If you get pissed off and they get a rise out of you, that might only encourage them,” she said.

“So your advice to us is to let creepy men say dirty things to us and then just smile?” I asked sarcastically.

“You are free to ignore my advice, but that is what I am going to do. We can see who is more stressed out at the end,” my mom said.

I was regretting my decision to volunteer from the moment we left our house. However, she was right. The people that lived in this dilapidated neighborhood of broken-down apartments had it bad. The people who lived here without even a roof over the head had it even worse.

“You have no idea what it is like for these people, Heidi. Where is your compassion and giving spirit? You have no idea what privileges you take for granted,” she said.

She had the same privileges as me! I was angry she insulted me about taking what I had for granted but I knew she was right on some level too. I was angry that she was right.

“This meal is more than just about generosity. For a lot of them, they haven’t seen pretty girls like you in a long time and may not know how to act appropriately,” My mom explained patiently.

“That is no excuse for bad manners,” I stuck my nose up in the air.

“The homeless have to sleep outside with the possibility a criminal could sneak up on them at any time. You think they are worried about manners?” She seemed disgusted as she led us inside. The shelter was just opening its lunchroom cafeteria to volunteers. There were a number of other women about my mom’s age arriving. My mom told us that the homeless deserved respect at all times. “I am going to call every man I meet Sir and every woman I meet Ma’am. They deserve at least that much,” she promised.

She took us back to the kitchen and tossed us white shirts. “Where can we put them on?” I asked.

“What is the big deal?” Luke whipped his shirt off and put on his white volunteer shirt. He often walked around the house in just his underwear. Guys had it easy that way.

My sister giggled and took off her shirt. She had a lacey underwire bra that held up her tits. I could see half of her areola jutting out of the top of the bra. She changed pretty quickly and didn’t seem to mind that there were other people in the kitchen.

I felt obliged to do the same thing. I had a much more murderous brassiere that admittedly provided plenty of support but could get hot and sweaty. My mother warned me that I’d want to take it off before the end of the day.