Homeless

Author's Note: This is my first real try at writing this sort of thing, so I would really appreciate any response whatsoever. Thanks.

I woke to my alarm blaring, absolutely the worst way to start a day off, in my opinion. Groggily I reached for my nightstand, desperately trying to find that accursed snooze button. Ye gods, where is it?! I don't think I can handle that incessant monotonous beeping any longer. As a last resort I opened my eyes to find the infernal thing- and that's when it hit me. My alarm clock wasn't on my nightstand anymore because we had moved yesterday, it was sitting across the room next to my TV so that I couldn't just hit the snooze button. Wait, that meant today was... the first day of school.

I felt my heart drop as I slowly climbed out of bed and stumbled over to my TV stand. That alarm clock was going to get it for this. I reached down to the outlet and unplugged the stupid noisemaker then proceeded to stumble toward my bathroom for my morning shower.

Still heavy lidded I padded into my bathroom, flicking on the lights and fan as I walked in. I stopped for just a moment to look at myself in the mirror, jeez I always look like crap in the morning. My normally straight and sleek auburn hair was frizzy and all sorts of messed up, while my eyes were heavy lidded and barely open with faint dark circles under them- showcasing my lack of sleep. Still, it was nothing a good shower wouldn't fix.

I turned the shower on to the hot position, just the way I like it, and stripped out of my pink tank top and vibrantly rainbow coloured panties. After testing that the water was the right temperature, I stepped into the shower and let that wonderfully hot water work it's magic. I slowly stretched and massaged my body as the water streamed over it. Gently I massaged my shoulders, one at a time, loosening the taut muscles as I basked in the heat of the water. Leaning my head back into the flow of water I closed my eyes and softly massaged my scalp while the water itself smoothed that frizz out of my hair. I sighed to myself and began to really relax, the shower has always been the best place to let loose, for me.

I reached over and grabbed my shampoo, squeezing out a dollop onto my palm and rubbing my palms together before I went back to massaging my head, this time time to wash my hair. As I lathered the shampoo into my hair I began to lose myself in the steady massage of my scalp, I could feel acutely every one of my fingers as it traced it's way across my head. Reluctantly I realized it was time to wash out the shampoo. Stepping back in to the stream of water brought a delightfully warm feeling on all the skin it touched and cascaded over. I ducked my head forward and watched the shampoo wash out of my hair, caressing it's way down the front of my body, watching it slide over and between my breasts, down my stomach, in between and down my thighs, I regretted having to close my eyes to avoid getting soap in them. With my eyes close I let my hands and fingers take over, sliding them down my sides and then back up my stomach to cup and softly squeeze my breasts.

“Mmmm...” I groaned to myself. It felt simply wonderful. I gently caressed my breasts with my hands taking in every inch of them... not too large, and not too small, perfect for my frame. At the age of 17 I was fairly certain they were fully developed. My hands slowly drifted down my stomach, again rubbing and caressing every inch on their descent downwards. I sighed heavily as my fingers approached my freshly shaved mound, pressing harder I slid them down and out on to my inner thighs.

A gasp tears itself out of my throat as one of my thumbs accidentally flicks my clit, that hyper sensitive bundle of pleasure. I can feel that familiar warmth beginning to emanate from my core... But still I continue past that and slide my hands over my soapy slick inner thighs and then back over and around to caress and squeeze my soft and supple butt.

A stomp from the floor above me breaks me out of my reverie. I guess I should probably finish my shower quickly, after all it is the first day at this new school. I rush through the rest of my shower while mentally preparing myself for the day to come. After last years disaster I wasn't exactly looking forward to school in this small little town. Okay it's not that small, but it seems small after coming from the big city I moved from. I figure if the town only has one high school then it's small, alright?

Stepping out of the shower I toweled off, combed and blow dried my hair. From there I moved back in to my room and, after putting on a fresh set of panties and a bra, I explored my closet for a good outfit for today. Eventually I settled for tight jeans a black short length T-shirt and a yellow sweater over it that hugged my form perfectly. Considering the weather in this place I had to dress warm, which was never my preference after coming from warm southern California. Finishing the outfit with a pair of red converse I looked around to make sure I was ready to go.

Grabbing my cell from it's charger and tossing it in my shoulder bag, I headed up stairs from my new basement room. Following the smells of breakfast cooking I worked my way towards the kitchen to the image of my Dad sitting at the kitchen table with Mom cooking up breakfast. How odd.

“Why is Mom cooking, Dad?” I asked in a hushed voice before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Your mother insisted on cooking for you, for your first day of school.” He noisily replied in his deep baritone, with a bright smile on his face, Dad is always happy.

“Are you complaining about it, Rebecca?” Mother asked with a faint trace of humor in her voice.

“No Ma'am!” I replied, smiling brightly as I took my seat. It's not that Mom is a bad cook, quite the opposite actually. Mom works as a chef at a fairly famous chain of nice restaurants, so she doesn't usually cook at home after cooking all day at work. Lucky for my brothers and I, Dad isn't a half bad cook, though he's not in the same league as Mom, she's just plain amazing.

Speaking of my brothers, I heard them storming down the stairs and come rushing into the kitchen, Dylan right on Damien's heels. They're 'identical' twins, though to us in the family the difference is pretty obvious. Dylan's hair is a slightly darker shade so as to be more brown, whereas Damien's hair is more auburn like mine. Dylan also has a freckle on his left cheek, and Damien sits straighter. There are more little differences that the family recognizes, but most other people don't, I could list them, but it would take all day.

“What's for breakfast Mom?” Dylan asked, as he and Damien flanked Mom. That was followed quickly by-
“Is that an omelette?” From Damien, They then each gave her a kiss on the cheek from both sides. Even with now separate rooms they both acted practically in synchrony, sometimes I think it's a game for them.

“Yes, it is an omelette, we're also having hash browns with country style gravy and some bacon. Now you two go sit down and drink your orange juice.” She answered in her usual kind-hearted, but no nonsense way.

“Yes Ma'am!” They both replied with a deep grin, before they took their seats at the kitchen table.

“Everyone looking forward to school today?” Dad asked after they had settled into their seats. He had set aside his normal morning paper now that we'd all arrived. This is kind of a family ritual for us. Dad works from home, but makes sure to get up with everyone else so we can all breakfast together, due to his work, our homework, and Mom having to stay late fairly often at the restaurant we don't always have the chance to eat dinner together.

“Mmmm... not especially...” I mumble into my cup of orange juice, before taking a long drink.

Dad spares me a comforting smile and turns to the boys, “And how about you two?”

“Definitely.” They respond in their usual Synchrony.

“Now you two make sure to take care of your sister, all right?” He looks expectantly at them.

“Oh, sure Dad” Dylan answers with an absent flick of his hand.

“Of course.” Damien says while reaching for the paper.

“Now hold on!” I say, “I thought I was the older one here.”

“You may be older, but you're still our 'little' sister.” Dylan says with another grin. I swear these men never stop smiling. He was of course referencing His and Damien's freakishly large stature, at 6 foot tall, compared to my own 5'5” stature.

I sighed and sit back in my chair, getting lost in memories of the past. Last year had been rough, to say the least. Near the beginning of our second semester I had been... outed, by my supposed best friend whom I had confided in regarding my preference for the company of girls. My peers were less than understanding, luckily my brothers had been around, while they were freshmen, they were still big guys, and they stood up for me when any of the jocks, or men in general got on my case about my sexuality.

“Breakfast for table on is up!” My mother's voice chimed, bringing me out of my reverie. She began setting down each of our plates. The boys dug in to theirs right away, leaving Dad and I to wait for mom to dish herself up and have a seat.

Dad said a prayer quietly, to which Mom nodded her head in agreement to, before the three of us began eating our delicious meal. Dad and Mom are, as they put it, 'Followers of Christ' which is why they're okay with my sexuality, even if they are religious. My brothers and I are mostly undecided on the subject, the three of us were pretty shaken after last years turn of events, that's why we moved here. We're all looking for a fresh start, myself more than the rest, I'm sure.