Rachel was there too. Was it me or did she look different somehow. She had on short jean shorts and a shirt that rose up above her bellybutton as she reached up to get a box of cereal from the cupboard. She was on her tippy-toes, and her legs and butt were not making my dick head exposure problem any better. I forced myself to look away, and directed my attention to my mom. ”I’m ready when you are” I said a bit unevenly, boy my sister had me worked up. “Oh my gosh” my mom sputtered as she looked up at me from the table.
My momentary panic subsided as I looked down to see I was concealed, and my mom continued “honey, I totally forgot you had practice”. Now here was something to take my mind off “other things” and hopefully banish the monster in my jeans. The swim team I was on was not a “summer club” fun team. We practiced year round, we practiced 3-4 hours a day, and you had to maintain high attendance or you were not allowed to go to nationals, and, as this was the first year my times would be good enough to qualify, I was not about to miss practice. My brief panic was replaced by a shock, and a renewed buzzing in my head as Rachel popped up between us (I say “popped up” because she is so short and petite that she would continually surprise me by appearing from a seeming nowhere), “I can take him” she said in a sing-song voice. Brothers and sisters have all kind of relationships, and I suppose ours was normal. We were friendly; more friendly than neighbors who say “hi” as they get the mail, less friendly than best buds who hang out together.
We would on occasion give each other a friendly shove. A hip-check when passing in the hall, or a little nudge when the other one is writing, just fun razzing really. So what happened next could easily be explained away, and, would have been no big deal, except for the big deal in my pants. She did a move that I would describe as a hip-check if it had been side on, but this was her butt to my front. Ostensibly to move me out of the way, she banged her ass into me and landed perfectly on either side of my still raging hard-on. There was just no way she could have not felt it. But she acted as if nothing was amiss, so I pretended to smile, and quickly exited the room.
I got in Rach’s jeep (a 16th b-day present) and tried to arrange myself. Now I’m just telling it like it is; my dick as of a week before was 7 ½ inches (I know, because…yes I measured) and very thick (my hands were just big enough to palm a basketball, yet I could just touch my thumb and finger when masturbating), so when my belt tucking wasn’t an option (you can’t really do that sitting down, especially when your cock head is popping out, or you’d decapitate yourself), I put my right leg up on the door-les doorframe and adjusted myself so my dick was smashed to my right leg. I checked it out, and found that barring close scrutiny, it was a good camouflage. I was just starting to wonder what was taking Rach so long, when bouncing out the door she came.
She had changed out of her jean shorts. She was now wearing sun-dress style skirt, very loose and very light ending just above her knees. “Sorry” she said as she climbed into the driver’s side, “those shorts were too tight, I had to change”. “It’s O.K.” I managed, as she started up the car and backed out of the drive. The ride started of uneventfully; the neighborhood streets were deserted this early on a Saturday, although I thought I saw Rach look at my right leg once.
The problems started when we hit the first real street. Apparently, while the skirt’s own weight was sufficient to keep it down while going 25mph in our neighborhood, going 45mph in an open jeep was too much for it. Rachel barely caught it in time before it blew up and exposed what I already knew to be a fabulous sight. “Shit” she said as she struggled to hold it down and pull off the street at the same time. My dick had gone completely beyond my control at that point, and I was surprised to hear my own voice, through the haze of horny and adrenalin that clouded my head, say in a slightly panicked tone “I can’t be late Rach”. She sat silent for a moment as though she were thinking. “We have 3 choices” she said in her rarely used, older sister tone;”1.
We can go back to the house so I can change”. “No way, I’ll be so late, Coach won’t let it count for attendance” I answered immediately. Rachel, again in that tone she used when she was in charge, said “2. I can take us on side streets so we don’t have to drive so fast.” “That’s still gona make me late” I said in a tone I hoped conveyed that I was worried about practice, not trying to get her skirt up. “Well I need both hands to drive” she said, indicating with a point, the manual transmission gear shift. “So the only other option is for you to hold down my skirt” she said in such a calm manner that I was actually embarrassed at my stuttering “what?
” “If you knew how to drive a stick” she said (did she just glance at my right leg again?) “You could shift for me.” “You know I don’t know how yet” I said in such a whine I’m surprised she didn’t make fun of me for it. “Well I don’t see any other option” she said matter-o-factly. “O.K.” I said, and reached over with my left hand to the edge of her skirt where it met the near edge of her seat.
“Are you trying to get a look at me naked” she said, a small grin on her face “you have to hold it down here” she imitated holding the edge of her skirt down to the seat between her legs. “And you have to use your other hand, or I won’t have room to shift”. It was probably the combination of the panic of not wanting to be late, combined with Rach’s kidding accusation of wanting to see her naked, coupled with a level of hornyness I had never experienced, but, before I knew it I was sitting side-saddle, my left leg between the front two seats so that my left foot was on the floor behind Rach’s seat, my right leg in front of the stick, my right foot inches below her beautiful, outstretched right calf, my left hand on the side of the back of her seat for balance, my right hand as far from her crotch as I could get it, holding her skirt down to the front edge of her seat. It wasn’t until I was already in position that I realized my problem. Not only was my, at this point ridiculously hard, cock’s bulge in full view, up close and personal, but as she shifted, she would be within inches of it with her right hand. This, of course, did nothing but “enflame” my problem even more. Trying my best to seem casual, and not in danger of my head exploding, I said “let’s go”.
We took off like a bat out of hell. The reason seemed plain; I was going to be late, and my good older sister was trying to get me there as fast as possible. I say it “seemed” plain because I couldn’t help but notice the ferocity of her driving had several other effects. One of these was that when she gunned it from a stop, I was thrown back just as she shifted to second, which was forward and right. In other words she was basically punching my dick. The other effect was that she slid around in her seat a lot, causing my hand to continually brush the insides of her legs, and on three separate occasions she slid forward so far, she actually used my hand on her crotch to stop herself. By the time I got to practice, I wasn’t sure I could stand, let alone work-out for 3 hours.