Hurry Up!

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My sister helped me overcome my problem.
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Chris7sw
Chris7sw
2,857 Followers

"Chris, for heaven's sake, hurry up! How many times have I got to tell you? You're going to be late again!" Mum would yell from somewhere downstairs, "Come on, get a move on, you'll miss the bus if you're not careful!"

"Yeah alright Mum, I'll be there; I'll make it," I'd shout back as I hurriedly gathered all my bits and pieces together.

And then my sister Sharon might join in too - and that really made me hurry up. No way did I want to get on the wrong side of her!

Mum was always yelling at me back then and if it wasn't her then it was my sister - thank heavens that Dad kept out of it; I guess he was just too busy to worry about little me.

I was always running late in those days; always the one who had to be chivvied out the door; always the last one to leave the room; always the one who had to run to get to wherever it was I should have been two minutes earlier.

I always knew I was running late because I was an avid clock watcher, always checking my watch to see how many minutes - or even seconds - I had left before I'd be late and yet somehow I was never actually late; seldom if ever did I miss my school bus, or a lesson or a meal. It was always with a narrow squeak that I made it and it seemed that I was always like that; it was part of my psyche or something.

Even once I started work, once school and college was done and dusted, I'd be almost late. Never to the point of actually being late; of incurring the wrath of my boss but always right on the limit. Seldom if ever did I have a document on his desk, a letter in the post or a job completed before time...but somehow I always managed to squeeze my actions into deeds just before anyone complained. It was almost as if I'd made an art of it - and yet it was all very unintentional.

My tardiness, well 'near' tardiness, might have been even considered to be normal had it not been that my sister was the complete opposite. Sharon was the one who'd be standing there tapping her feet impatiently; marching back and forward as she waited for me or joining in to yell at me just like her mother did. She was always the one whose school work was always handed in first; who was always at the head of a queue or who stood there imploring the bus driver to wait for me.

I occasionally found myself wondering if I wasn't late just as a foil for her eagerness but I also felt entirely grateful for her patience, especially so because she'd sometimes get me out of trouble. It would be she who would make excuses for me or even help me to finish my task before the deadline passed - she was brilliantly supportive of me for some reason and despite my callow youthfulness I loved her dearly.

There was something about her that always made my eyes follow her around, even in those years before sex raised its head. She bounced through life so brightly, breathed an air of happiness around her and raised the liveliness of the atmosphere - without even doing anything! Sharon was just one of life's wonders, in my juvenile opinion.

By the time she'd left college and started work she was my dream girl. She was as tall as me; although being five years older than me helped there and just as I was entering puberty so she was moving into a stage of development that turned her from being a beanpole tomboy into a voluptuous young woman. Her breasts were becoming substantial works of art, as was her ass; her attributes being enough to cause me to hold my breath and to stare stupidly whenever she appeared. Already she was fast becoming my fantasy woman as I stroked my growing penis and by the time I'd reached eighteen the only woman in my mind at night was her. Truthfully she was the only woman I knew, apart from Mom of course...and those electronic images on the internet.

To be honest, any man would have swooned over her, such was her allure. Her blond cascade of hair always glowed with sunlight; her bright cheeks and lips spoke of her warmth; her melodious voice awoke happiness in all who heard her and every man lost control of his mind when she was near.

The only downside to her, if you could call it that was this ability to be there when I was late; to chase me along. I'd have been much happier to be left alone but then I'd probably have been bullied by Mom instead...

"Oh come on Chris, please hurry up," she might say imploringly.

"Please don't be late again," she'd sigh as she gathered my bits and pieces for me.

"Don't take all night!" she'd say, her fingers tapping at the doorframe as she waited for me to leave the bathroom.

In a way I'd get exasperated that she pestered me and yet I was also very grateful because she was helpful too.

"Come on, I'll give you a hand," she'd say if it appeared that I was struggling with something.

"Let me help," she'd say as she'd lean over my shoulder.

"I'll do that for you," she'd say as she completed something that I'd almost failed to finish.

She was so helpful as to be a nuisance sometimes but then again it seemed that my body created situations; set up problems for her to solve...just so that I could have her near me!

It was only when I was well into sexual adulthood, when my penis had achieved its full potential, when I spent my evenings wanking, when I was almost twenty that I understood that fact.

Yes; perhaps I did do it on purpose. I certainly enjoyed her presence - she turned me on terribly and that was without her help! She didn't tease me intentionally but she seemed careless when she was near me at home, flashing a bum cheek or two or a breast almost to the nipple or just generally showing a lot of flesh. Or when she helped me she might press her breasts against me, probably unintentionally but terribly erotically.

Whatever, her actions and even just her presence turned me on so much that she became the idol of my wanking; the perfect dream and yet the unachievable goal - the one person who could never figure sexually in my reality.

Truthfully though I had to admit that had I been so lucky as to entice her into a horizontal position with me, I really wouldn't have known what to do with her! While I knew every inch of my penis I knew almost nothing about women's bodies except that they turned me on. Oh I knew the mechanics of the bits; I was an avid reader of both pornographic and more intelligent articles and I'd watched enough porn to know where things went, but the fact of the matter was that I was almost a virgin.

That sounds stupid but what I mean is that I'd had sex with a few girls but it had all been quick stuff - a couple of knee-tremblers and even a blow job but I'd never bedded a girl; hardly ever even got past the chatting-up phase.

Perhaps my intended girlfriends all became sick of me being 'almost' late; perhaps my approach was wrong or perhaps there was some unknown factor. But the fact was that although I took a number of girls out we seldom progressed past the first date and my lack of success began to dwell on me. I started to become morose after each failed date, staying in my room to lie on my bed and stare vacantly at the ceiling, only reluctantly being prised out of my den.

If I'd had my own place then perhaps I'd have roused myself eventually, or perhaps become a complete recluse but being at home was different. If Mom wasn't to hand then Sharon was. Sharon and I could both have moved out since we both had adequate incomes but home was better.

Dad had invested heavily in the house and had extended it several times so we now had loads of space. The house actually comprised the main house and a 'granny annex' - a separate smaller home that had been for Dad's mom to come and live in...before she died rather unexpectedly. So instead of her using it, Sharon and I took over...sharing the amenities and with a bedroom each.

It was more comfy; there were more social interactions between the four of us; there were more 'amenities' for us to use - so why move out?

And it was there that Sharon found me late one Saturday evening, gloomily pondering my latest failure at entertaining some local lass, having had high hopes of breaking my duck; of getting a girl back and into my bed. The particular girl was known to be a bit free and easy and my expectation had been high when I talked her into going out with me that night but it didn't take long for the evening to start to fall apart.

It started when we eventually reached the club - just as they were closing the doors. As we hurried towards the building a swift glance at my watch told me that we had just minutes to go - but their timing was different to mine.

"Sorry mate, you know the rules - if you're not inside by eight then you stay out," said the bouncer at the door, his meaty body firmly backing his words.

"Yeah, but, but it's isn't eight yet, its two minutes to go," I said showing him my watch face.

"Tough; my watch says it's just gone eight and that's what I go by," said the doorman as he displayed his great golden chunky timepiece to me.

Yeah, it was a rule to stop gatecrashers and other interlopers - you arrived on time or not at all and then, when you left, you stayed out.

I just stood there hopelessly until my date pushed past me, sidled up to the bouncer and began sweet-talking him; rubbing her generous tits and lithe body against his arms - and suddenly we were allowed in.

I would have kissed her if I could but she was pushing ahead of me as we made our way to the main arena; then once there we discovered that all the tables were taken and by the time I reached the bar I also found that their promise of a free promotional drink was ended. To add to my chagrin I'd left my cash in the care of my girlfriend-for-the-night so I had to return to her, explain the situation and then return to the bar with some money.

By the time I returned to her again two other guys were chatting her up and she took her drink from me with hardly a glance. We spent the next hour or two just standing there, almost ignoring each other while I fended off other admirers. My chances were crumbling by the hour...

But the evening slowly improved as some more drinks eased the hostilities until finally my girl asked me if I'd dance with her. As usually in those circumstances I hadn't got round to asking her to dance so she'd asked me instead and we'd headed to the dance arena together but then I discovered that the activity was putting pressure on my bladder.

Before we'd even finished the first dance I was desperate to use the toilet and when I returned I found my girl locked in a close number with some other guy - my inability to do the right thing at the right time now bringing almost inevitable results. I stood there morosely while the other guy enjoyed her charms as she swayed her body against his.

Somehow she returned to me eventually and we stayed together for the rest of the evening but there was little or no warmth between us now and when we eventually left the club my date was on her phone and walked several paces ahead of me.

We stood there beside the road as I waited for her to finish her phone call and as I debated my next move. I urgently needed to find a cab to get her back to my place, but guess who had forgotten his phone...so I needed to use hers.

Finally she finished her call but as I turned towards her to ask if I could borrow it suddenly there was a horn beeping and a car pulling up beside us. My girl turned to me instead, blew me a vapid kiss, disappeared into the car and was gone. She'd obviously had enough of me...

"Screwed it mate, haven't you?" said the bouncer with a smirking grin, "Looks like it's gonna be the old five-finger job tonight!"

Yeah - I knew exactly what he meant - I'd have to relieve the pressure all by myself...

I walked home alone, irritated, frustrated and annoyed, lashing out occasionally at passing shadows and hedges and road signs.

"Fuck it!" I exclaimed as I lay there on my bed alone and feeling very pissed off.

My mind wound back the hours to the moment when I'd chatted that girl up; as I remembered my clever phrases, my cocky demeanour and my happy success. She was a bit of hot stuff and I knew that if I played things right then I'd get my end away before the night was out, hardly expecting things to go the way they did.

"Fuck it!" I exclaimed again, my hand smacking my brow in annoyance, "Fuckin' bloody marvellous, I don't think!"

But my cock had other ideas. I might have been pissed off but the message hadn't reached my cock and instead of feeling gloomy it still seemed to harbour plans that involved lots of thrusting and exploding and as a vision of that girl scrolled through my mind; a dream-like vision of her spreadeagled on my bed, my cock jerked in anticipation.

"Fuckin' piss off, you bloody thing!" I exclaimed, irritated at my penis as it throbbed eagerly.

The thought of that girl had set it off, rising and stiffening and there was very little I could do to stop the inevitable. My cock would have to be pacified and if not in the vagina of a girl then in my hand.

Idly as I let my hand fall and caress my bulging trousers I looked around, considering which means I'd use tonight as a stimulant.

Magazines? A DVD? The internet? Or just my mind?

With a suddenly decisive movement I rolled onto my side and opened the bedside locker door to pull out my latest porn magazine and before long it was spread out on the bed as my hand continued to pleasure my hard erection but then an advert caught my eye - an advert for a new porn site. The magazine wasn't old and dog-eared; it was quite recently purchased so I knew that the advert wasn't for a site that opened years ago; it might be worth a look-in.

Quickly I fired up my laptop and then tapped in the address and before long I was registering my free account. Both hands had been occupied on my laptop but now I could once again devote one to massaging my cock, feeling it stiffen once more.

I scanned the new sex site for categories, soon finding what I wanted - videos that mimicked my evening out - but without the crappy ending and soon the video of my choice was running. There on the screen a young and sexy female was on the phone chatting to a guy; then meeting up with him, going to a club and then back to his place for the finale. I could now rerun my evening while imagining that I was that guy; this was going to feel good!

Steadily the plot began to unfold and as it did so I worked my belt loose and slid my zip down and then smoothly slid my hand inside my boxers to enfold my cock.

"Oooohhh yeahhhh!" I moaned to myself as my fingers coiled around my shaft, "Gonna feel so good!"

I squirmed around as I began to push my trousers down...

In my video and my re-enactment I was lost, letting my mind imagine that it was happening to me and I was getting really into it when I heard a low chuckle and there beside me was my sister!

"Wha...! What the...? Fuck off - just fuck off!" I yelled, not because I hated my sister but because I'd been caught red-handed, but Sharon just stood there and ignored my words.

I was all a-flurry, scrambling to hide my magazine, the video on the laptop and evidence of my arousal all at the same time but all I succeeded in doing was to knock the magazine onto the floor; pause the video and catch my boxers in my zip.

"Jesus, you stupid bitch!" I howled, embarrassed anger pouring from me like molten fire, "See what you've done? Why didn't you knock? Why didn't you wait?"

"Have you finished?" asked Sharon calmly, still standing there nonchalantly, "Have you finished shouting?"

"Why shouldn't I shout at you?" I asked, barely in control of my tongue as I struggled to release my boxers, "You had no rights to come charging in like that!"

"I did not 'come charging in' as you say," said Sharon still calmly watching me, "I knocked; you didn't answer. I waited and still you ignored me, so I came in."

"Why - well what the hell do you want anyway?" I asked, my mind distracted as I fought with my zip, "What can't wait until the morning - what's so bloody urgent?"

"Hmmm, I was right then," said Sharon as she moved a few steps closer.

"Right what?" I asked.

"Right that things didn't go right," she said with a smile, "Speaking of right - is it alright if I sit down?"

"If you must," I grumpily agreed and Sharon came and planted herself on the end of the bed.

"Come on, tell me," she said gently, "What happened then?"

I didn't like the way her eyes were still connected to my zip and the chunk of material that was still locked in its teeth that I was still wrestling with so I moved my hand away, leaving the material sticking out like a small tongue.

"What's there to tell," I answered moodily, "Nothing happened - so there."

I leaned back and rested my head on my folded hand...

"I could have told you it was going to be a disaster," said Sharon with a smile, "She was way too fast for you - right out of your league."

"How d'you know that?" I said as I frowned at her but Sharon continued to smile.

"Her reputation went before her," she said gently, "No way was she going to wait for you to catch up - to keep up with her. She's one of those people who expect things to happen; she went out to get laid, I bet."

"So did I," I answered warily, "But I screwed up..."

Sharon chuckled as her hand reached out and rested on my thigh, gently soothing me, rubbing me and I tried to ignore the delicious feelings her hand was creating.

"You're too much of a ditherer; you need to be more self assured, more possessive; more aggressive even," said Sharon, "But you'll never be that; you'll always be the same. You can't change your spots."

"Yeah but if we'd have got there half an hour earlier it probably would have been ok," I answered, knowing inside that she was right.

"But you'd never have made it there that early," said Sharon firmly, her hand rubbing a bit harder, "You'll always be late - that's just you."

I felt my face fall as the truth sank in and managed to look at Sharon, my eyes feeling sad and puppy-like.

"Well what am I supposed to do then?" I asked, "How on earth am I ever going to get laid?"

I actually felt tears in my eyes - I actually felt close to crying - but not in front of my sister although my eyes were so hot that I had to shut them and as I did so I felt Sharon moving on the bed, the mattress dipping closer to me now.

"I don't suppose I can help?" said Sharon, her voice all soft and cool, her fingers now more active, "I wouldn't mind helping out..."

"Uhhh?" I queried, "Like how - what?"

"How about I start by sorting your zip out?" she said, causing my eyebrows to jerk upwards somewhat unexpectedly.

Unbidden her hand slid slowly over my thigh and downwards over my groin and I felt everything inside me tighten up as her hand approached my zip. She let her fingers closer around the tag of boxer material, testing how firmly it was held and then they slid upwards to grasp my zip.

Suddenly I found that I was holding my breath and equally suddenly I realised that my penis was starting to fill out again.

"No - no - get your hand away," I spluttered in panic but all Sharon did was to bring her other hand into play too, seemingly not noticing any penile movement.

"I need two hands to do this," she said and as she spoke she slid that little bit closer to me, bringing one leg up to rest on the bed.

Immediately my eyes moved from her hands to her leg, her long, naked, smooth, tanned, sleek leg that was resting right before me, undraped right up to within inches of her groin.

I felt myself starting to drool and had to suck the dribble in and swallow quickly before swiping my tongue over my lips. Quickly I shook my head and pulled my eyes away, only to let them jerk back to my zip.

Sharon now had both hands busy as she tried to extract the material and she was tugging hard at my trousers - then suddenly there was action! Suddenly the zip gave way; suddenly Sharon's hands were tearing the two halves of my zip apart; suddenly the zip split open.

Chris7sw
Chris7sw
2,857 Followers