Helping Hand

I am 19 years old. Female. Very petite build. I am 5 foot and a tiny bit tall if I stretch my back to it's straightest and tilt my head back slightly. I weigh around 50kg wet through. My dress size is a UK6, but I usually wear an 8 for comfort. My bra size is 28A which is being generous, I wouldn't have any major issues wearing training bras still, and truth is I don't tend to bother with one at all. Only a few situations I wear one and most of those are exercise related, gym and running mainly. I would also wear one if my top was figure hugging and any sort of cold or excitement would make my nipples visible through the top. I have long brunette hair that ends around mid way down my back. I usually wear it in a ponytail to keep it out of the way.

I am one half of a twin. My twin brother is also 19, but he was born a few minutes before me and reminds me of that fact fairly regularly. He is my opposite. He is still fairly slim, but he is over 6 foot tall. My mates all fancy him, so yeah, he isn't bad looking, but he is my brother so even admitting to any sort of attraction would be taboo, so I won't, but yeah, remove the shared DNA and yeah... I probably would.

We are very close. I am not sure if it is because we are twins or if it is just because he is so easy going and most of the time even if I want a fight he just shrugs and moves on with his day. He is also big enough just to lift me up and physically move me which kind of puts and end to any sort of protest or disagreement we may be having.

I was having one of those days where something just didn't feel right. I had a fair few of them, and most days were fine. Teenage hormones making me paranoid most likely, but I guess in a film or story it would have been put down to twin connection or some other bullshit that they like to try and push on us. It was half 3 in the afternoon and I was just chilling in my room. I had the house to myself except for the dog, as my brother was out on his pushbike somewhere and Mum and Dad were shopping. Oh, and just to clarify where I say, "In my room chilling," yes my hand is down the front of my panties and a small thong would be all I was wearing.

I wasn't actually properly fingering myself, which is a very odd claim as two fingers were inside me and I was gently stroking my clit was well. I wasn't really even that horny, I just had the house to myself and I almost felt obliged to have a risk free orgasm. Horny or not though, I am 19, so put something inside me for long enough and I am going to go cross eyed. My phone lit up and for some reason I sat up slightly to look at it. It was a local number, but it was unrecognised. Usually it was a swipe down for hang up, but instead I picked it up and answered it.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi, is that Sophie Lloyd," a female voice on the other end of the line said.

"Er, yeah," I said sitting up and removing my hand from down my panties. Something in her tone or inflection triggered my spidey sense. Again, twin bullshit. It wasn't, but I had to put that in didn't I really?

"Hi. It is the hospital, Steve has come off his bike, can you come in?" she said. You know that feeling when your entire digestive system tries to strangle itself. You instantly feel sick even though there is no way you could be sick with how tight your stomach felt at that moment in time. An almost choking sense of 'Oh shit."

"Yeah, cause," I said hearing my own panic, "Is he okay?" Silly question, he was in hospital. The question that I didn't dare answer for fear of a negative response, or somehow even worse, an evasive reply was of course, 'Is he alive?'

"He is fine," she said, "All things considered. Broken bones, but okay."

"Oh thank God for that," I said feeling my body relax as I breathed out.

"Calm down, have a drink of water, and come to A&E safely," she said as I was practically hyperventilating. I am not great in a crisis, I assume I had been third choice on his who to phone list, as Mum and Dad would be first. I wouldn't be surprised if he was half hoping the dog had learned how to answer a phone and that I had actually been the fourth choice.

"Yeah, okay," I said consciously controlling my breathing, "I'll be 30 mins or so."

"See you in a bit," she said and hung up.

I ran out of my room, slid to a halt on the wooden floor in the hallway and span on my heals back into my room again. I was still half naked. "Yeah, sorry I didn't pick you up bro, I was arrested for indecent exposure on my way to get you cos I didn't put any clothes on. Fucking idiot," I scalded myself. I put a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on then went downstairs. I slipped on some trainers and went out to the car. It wasn't mine, it was the shit second family car that I was insured on.

Amazingly it started and I drove to the hospital. I checked the instructions for the parking, (piss take, much?) and went inside. The receptionist directed me in the usual disinterested way and I hurried down the maze of corridors and equally worried looking sea of faces. It is odd isn't it, your world is your world, and yet here was a collection of people who were in similar situations, and heaven forbid, much worse situations. Much respect to the doctors and nurses, I don't think I could do this job.

I finally found him and he grinned sheepishly at me from his bed. He had a nice scratch on his face, his right arm in a plaster and sling plus he had crutch by his bed as well. "Fucking idiot," I said when I saw him. It was half relief that he was okay, or at least not immediately dead.

"Er. Hospital, language," he replied.

"Sorry," I said looking around, but either no one heard me or no one cared, "Fucking idiot, what did you do?" I said quieter.

"Ran out of talent," he said.

"Obviously," I replied, "What have you done?"

"Broken right wrist and arm, badly sprained left ankle," he replied.

"Moron," I said rolling my eyes at him, "Scared me to death."

"Yeah, sorry, I don't know Mum or Dad's number by heart," he said, "Bust my mobile in the crash."

"Dad will be well impressed," I replied, "Your new one?"

"Yep," he nodded, "One thousand dollars broke."

"Ooops," I grinned at him, "They will get you a Nokia 3310," I laughed.

"Hey, don't even joke," he said.

"Who said I was joking?" I replied trying to hold a serious expression.

"Piss off," he said.

"So are you all free to go?" I asked.

"Oh hell no, they are doing the paperwork, grab a seat, I am sure they will be a while," he said.

Sure enough what should have taken 30 minutes and cost me a few dollars in parking fees, turned into a couple of hours and the best part of ten dollars for parking. I offered to help him when he got up, but if he fell I would have zero hope of holding him up and he would have just squished me. Instead I took his rucksack and various other items he had so he had a free hand to hobble on his crutch. It took us a further 20 minutes to get back to the car park, which cost me another 2 bucks and I opened the door for him. He got in, I took his crutch and chucked it into the back and then got in the drivers seat.

We drove home and after a few failed attempts he managed to haul himself out of the car and onto his feet. We went inside and he collapsed onto the sofa in an uncomfortable heap. I adjusted pillows and cushions for him until he got comfortable then made him a drink. "Go easy on the drink," I said, "There is no fucking way I am helping you piss."

"Oh fuck no," he said, "I will manage to do that myself, even if it kills me."

Mum and Dad got back a few hours later and he got the usual over the top Mum treatment that ranged from "OMG my poor baby," right the way through to, "You are never going on your bike again, you were so lucky." Dad just called him a fucking idiot and that was his only real comment.

After far too much gag inducing nursing from Mum I excused myself and went back up to my room. I laid on my bed and turned on my music while I caught up on social media. "Hey, do you want any dinner?" Dad asked without prior warning as my door flew open and he came in.

I didn't even pull him up on it, it seemed knocking before going into your teenage daughters room was an alien concept that neither Mum or Dad could manage. Maybe he wanted to see me naked? Or worse? Eww. Ewww ewwww ewwwwww. The only consolation was they were equally bad at knocking for my brother was well. Couple of different porn plots for you there in the various incestual combinations. I refer you to my previous eww observations. "What are you making?" I asked as I lifted my headphone ear cup off my ear closest to him.

"Nowt, take away," he said.

"Ooo, yes then," I said. They were not poor by any stretch of the imagination, but they rarely splashed out of take away. In fact they were fairly well off, probably because they rarely splashed out on take away and other such frivolities. Dad's word, not mine. "What are you ordering?"

He shrugged, "What do you fancy?" he replied.

"Chinese I think," I said.

"Okay," he said, "You coming down?"

"Yep, right behind you," I said.

He left my room and left my door open. Now just to clarify here that I was on top of the duvet and clearly dressed, but my door would have been left open in all situations. Another pet hate that I have, but again, it just isn't even worth mentioning it as I would just get the usual throw away apology thrown back at me. Was it a big deal? No. Was it annoying? Yes.

Take away was ordered and eaten and it was very nice. I stayed downstairs for what I considered the minimum amount of time that wouldn't be classed as "eating and running." I get on with my family and I love them all to bits, but Mum spends most of the evening messing with the dog while Dad hops between sport channels to avoid adverts like his life depends on it. The best part of sport is the muscles and bums on show, and that can only carry you so far before even that gets boring. Steve was sat on the sofa looking uncomfortable as his body was starting to stiffen up as he stayed still.

I went back upstairs and closed my door. I hesitated for a second then went back onto the landing again. "Anyone need the bathroom?" I shouted downstairs," Gonna go for a shower."

A chorus of three "No's" were the reply and I went back into my room again. I grabbed my towel and went into the bathroom before stripping. I brushed my teeth and got into the shower. I am currently fully shaved down there, well, waxed to be precise. It had been a dare at a girlie sleep over a couple of weeks ago where they all chipped in and I had to go and get the "full Hollywood." It is an odd situation to be naked in front of someone you have never met before. An oddness that is only added to by some of the very unflattering positions you have to adopt to allow full hair removal. I am not sure if it is a sexy process to watch or not. It is probably quite a good view of the subject's most intimate parts, but I am not entirely sure if I would class it as sexy. There is no fucking way in hell I would want to see a guy getting it done, even if he was a modern day Adonis. For clarity here my friends took my word for it that I had had it done, I didn't have to prove my hairlessness.

It actually feels really nice being hairless. Like properly nice, especially in bed and I have slept naked a few nights just because the sheets against totally bare skin does feel really good. I probably won't keep up with it though as it was fairly expensive and I only have a shitty bar job that is fairly poorly paid. I showered and wrapped myself in a towel to walk back to my room. My room was only across the landing, a distance that could be jumped if you took a run up. A while back though the stars had aligned and I wandered across the landing with nothing on at the exact same time my Dad was coming upstairs. Not a problem, a quick yelp of surprise and urgent covering of myself and all would have been good. Only I was still drying my hair and walking purely on memory with my face covered by the towel. "Oh, sorry love," were the words I heard him say as he got a full frontal view of my naked body. The first and only time he has seen me naked, to date anyway.

I put on a pair of bikini panties and a vest that I wore as pyjamas and got back onto my bed to listen to music while flicking through the various TV channels. At half 10 I heard Mum come upstairs as no matter what was happening that was her bedtime and she always stuck too it. She poked her head into my room, again, unannounced, laying here in panties and a vest, but I just give up. "Dad and myself are working tomorrow, so can you look after your brother," she said.

"Yeah, course," I said.

"Thanks. Night love, sleep well," she said.

"You too," I replied.

She closed my door, an improvement on the usual of leaving it wide open I noted. I was dozing as the night wore on and was only woken up by Steve trying to get upstairs with the whispered advice from Dad. I say whispered, what I mean is not at all whispered. I did consider getting up to watch because it sounded fairly hilarious, but laziness won. I couldn't be bothered putting some shorts on to leave my room. After several minutes and a couple of swear words from both Steve and Dad he finally made the landing and he went into his room. I dropped off asleep and woke up at half 2 freezing cold. The heating went off at night and my room for some reason always feels several degrees cooler than the rest of the house. I shuffled myself underneath the duvet, curled up into the foetal position on my side and went back to sleep again.

I woke up at half 10 the next morning and got up. I went to the bathroom and was walking back to my room when I heard my brother shout from his room. "Sophie? That you?" he asked.

"Er, no, I am a burglar, shhh, don't tell anyone," I said sarcastically, "Of course it is me."

"Funny," he said, "You got a second?"

"I have many seconds," I replied, "I'll just put some shorts on," I added. I was still only wearing the panties and a vest.

I put some shorts on and tapped on his door. "Decent?" I asked.

"Yep," he said.

I went in and he was sat on his bed fully dressed except shoes and socks. I saw his bare feet and grinned. "You owe me fucking big time," I said rolling my eyes as I put two and two together.

"Thanks dear," he said sarcastically and lifted his good foot into the air.

I put his sock on, which is really much harder than you would expect. Putting your own socks on is a doddle, putting them on for someone else is really quite tricky. After a few seconds I managed it and he switched feet. His left one was very swollen and looked very sore. I carefully manoeuvred his sock on with minimal winces of pain from him. I also managed to get his shoes on. I did make a mental note to wear some less baggy shorts next time as I was sat cross legged and they were next to useless for covering my underwear which had been the general idea of them.

"Cheers," he said.

"Welcome, anything else?" I asked.

"Carry me downstairs?" he asked.

"No chance, you are on your own with that one," I giggled, "I will put the kettle on. Two sugars?"

"Please," he said.

I left his room and went downstairs. I didn't bother getting dressed. I didn't plan on going anywhere anyway. Mum took over slave duties when she got back from work and I retreated up to my room. That was the routine for the next few weeks. When Mum was at work, I was chief slave and when Mum was home, she took over. I did feel quite sorry for him. He was a very active person and he had been house bound except for hospital visits for most of the time. It did however work out pretty well for me as when it was just me and him in the house I could disappear upstairs and play with myself as much as I wanted. Even if he came upstairs a dead person would hear him, so as long as I kept the noise down and didn't scream the house down while I came I was fairly safe. It is surprising how quietly you learn to cum when necessity dictates as such.

It was a Saturday and Mum and Dad had gone away for the weekend to a posh hotel somewhere leaving Steve as my responsibility. I say that like it is a chore, he is fairly self sufficient now. He can walk around okay and his only disability is his broken arm. He can do everything himself, it just takes him ages if it requires two hands or dexterity as he broke his dominant right arm, so my role was mainly cooking and tidying. I had to cook and tidy anyway, so having to cook double portions was hardly a major hardship. I had made him his breakfast and made sure he was comfortable. He had the TV remote, he had a drink as well as a few snack options within easy reach and so those were my duties sorted for a while. I disappeared back upstairs under the pretence that I was going to go and get ready for the gym, which I was, I just had a date with a dildo first.

I left my door slightly open so I could hear him shout if he needed anything and stripped. It was a strange feeling being naked as with the door being ajar I felt very much "shop window." If he did come upstairs without me hearing and look into my room he was seeing everything. The safety net of his crutch had gone a week or so ago as he could now bear weight on his ankle, but he was still not anywhere near stealthy so there was little chance of him sneaking up on me.

I am not a virgin, but my sexual experience is still only one guy and it was not the greatest of introductions to sex. Don t get me wrong, it felt okay and I enjoyed it, but he was quite selfish and I was never fully satisfied with him. We didn't split up because of shit sex, that would be fairly crappy of me, I would guess that my technique was hardly a flawless display of satisfaction either. We split up because he was giving his particular brand of shit sex to at least two other girls while supposedly in a monogamous relationship with each us.

During our short foray into the ultimate adult entertainment though I tasted (and spat out) my first load of cum. After a bit of coercion from him and quite frankly, begging, I swallowed some. Actually, not that bad. Don t get me wrong, I would hand you back a full glass of the gloopy solution with a polite "No thanks," but it is okay in the small portions that it gets delivered in. Luckily we didn't advance to unprotected sex as he was fairly liberal with what he stuck his dick into, and I know one of them had an interesting trip to the "clinic." He also fucked me up the ass. Note here it has been described as a fuck, and not, "we had lovely bum sex."

It was consensual, it was a terrible idea, but even so, I agreed to it. It was however the worst experience of my life so far. Not pain wise, he squirted enough lube on and around my butt to drown me, but just sensation. I spent the two minutes he took to cum in me feeling like I was about to have a very messy and embarrassing accident. I didn't, and when discussed with my best mate, she just pissed herself and said, "Oh yeah, it feels like you really need a poop. Grim isn't it?" Incidentally two minutes trying your best not to have what feels like an unavoidable code brown is NOT a good way to spend two minutes. It was his birthday, it was a terrible idea. I will try it again at some point, but I will be a lot better prepared. (You don't need details here, but I am sure putting two and two together you can work out the obvious oversights of the inexperienced.)

I laid on my bed and opened my legs. My pubes had grown back enough to need trimming again, so I was back to my simple neat triangle style. Not a comedy small triangle perched above the main event like an arrow pointing the way in, but a smallish bikini safe neatly trimmed triangle. I opened my bedside draw and took out my dildo. I sucked it, partly to aid with lubrication, but mainly because I loved the submissive fantasy of sucking a cock. It was a realistic shape and sized toy with an anatomically correct head. It didn't have any testicles on it which I do regret as from an immersion point of view I do miss them. It was an option for some of the other models, but in my young naivety I had wrongly decided that the extra cost wasn't worth it. I wouldn't make the same mistake when I got myself a different one at some point.