Habitat
By OneSilky
My sister Jessica and I live with George. We are sort of a polyamorous triad, but we're his daughters and he takes care of us. He's also very bossy, like he decides when we wear panties, or how much money we can spend - never enough! - But we all love each other and we don't fuck around with others much.
So last week George decided we should do some volunteer work for Habitat for Humanity. I like them, they help poor people, etc. I don't mind helping. But seriously, seven am? On a Saturday? In Alabama? In June? It is so hot, and too early to wake up. Jess says that when she worked as a ho (long story) she used a lot of cocaine, and that we needed some to get up that early. George said no. He can be so unreasonable!
Anyway, we crawled out of bed before normal people, and made lots of comments about how a certain man went back to sleep because he "already did a lot of charity work," and how we "needed the experience." He said that paying our tuition at the University of Alabama was charity work because we never really graduated. (We're 'grad students')
Anyway, we had to sign our own waivers, because we're over 18, but if we're so grown up why can't we decide to go back to bed? Is it volunteer work if your owner makes you do it? We offered to screw him if he let us stay, but since we do that every day in any event, we lost out.
After a brief disagreement about who would drive, we headed to this construction site. Now a bunch of Frat Boys were doing the same stuff, the police picked up people under 21 in bars and made them do community service. Some of them were really cute. This one guy had like blond hair and gorgeous eyes, and dimples. OK, back to volunteer work.
I don't know a lot about fraternities, except Sigma Chi because of the Sweetheart thing, but it's strange because Jessica has blond hair and blue eyes, whereas I, the red head with green eyes have bigger tits and am, in general, the better looking girl.
Ow! The jealous bitch just hit me because she's reading over my shoulder while I write and she disagrees with my evaluation. I do have bigger tits, that's a fact. I would say more, but 'someone' would probably act aggressively again.
So we were there already hot; I know, we're both hot, but this is not like that, it's just temperature. The release said we had to wear closed toe shoes (Check, Ugg boots) and a hard hat (Check, but mine was orange, and clashed with my hair -red, did I tell you?) and it also said no sports bras. I think George wrote that part. So we didn't wear bras. Any bras. It was really sweaty anyway.
Everybody knows that white is the best color to wear in the dessert, because it reflects heat. I'm not wearing any damn black burka stuff! Well, I didn't realize that we would be outside. No air-conditioning! People should only be outside in the heat by the pool or the beach. Not in a construction site! We even had to pee in a porta-potty. EUH-GROSS!
Frat Boys had trouble with their eyes when we got to perspiring. Haven't they ever seen tits before? I mean, our shirts did get transparent, but it wasn't like we were flashing them. I might have flashed the guy with dimples, or the tall guy he was working with. Anyway, the supervisor got concerned when one guy spilled white paint all over his jeans. He was trying to cover his boner, which looked nice, but anyway, that man thought more work would happen if Jess and I worked inside.
That seemed great, except remember, construction site? No AC there. So we went inside and painted walls, boring, boring, boring. Not even cute guys to flirt with.
