On My Way Home Ch. 03


Yes, it’s been a while.

I wrote this a few months back as a way of wrapping the story up, and never got around to posting it. It’s short and there’s less sex than there was in chapters 1 and 2, but I like spending time with Andy’s girls and I hope you enjoy seeing the story to its conclusion. If you do, let me know via comments, votes or messages.

I woke to find my cock being lovingly and affectionately sucked.

Kaz, fully dressed, knelt over me, her head bobbing up and down slowly as she deliberately and artfully slid me in and out of her mouth.

As she felt me stir, she looked up into my eyes. Hers were full of that familiar twinkling mischief.

To the left of me Eleanor slept, her knees drawn up to her chest so she looked very small and fragile. On the other side Jen also slept, a less elegant pose on her front, one arm stretched out full length so her fingers were mere fractions of an inch from me.

We were downstairs, of course. In honour of our first meeting I had once again dragged mattresses downstairs and we’d made a makeshift camp in the living room. Funnily enough both girls had seemed a little shyer when it was the three of us, neither wanting to make any obvious advances. Perhaps they were shy of making love to me while being watched by the other without Kaz as there as a third to change the dynamic.

I wasn’t entirely sorry. I was more than happy to cuddle up with them both and watch a film on television, me in the middle with one arm around each girl. Then, when the film had finished, Eleanor had made us some decaffeinated coffee and we’d chatted quietly for a while under the blankets. Once Jen had sneaked her hand over to fondle my cock and had found Eleanor’s hand already there, gently working me under the covers. She’d started to withdraw but instead Eleanor had let go of me and reached for her sister’s hand instead, placing it firmly on my crotch and then taking her own hand away. Jen had smiled at her and Eleanor had smiled back.

They were special, these two sisters. For all of Jen’s occasional grumbly protests, there wasn’t an ounce of jealousy between them.

And now, as they slept, their best friend, clad in blue jeans and a black t shirt, her hair drawn up into a bun, sucked me and ran her fingernails gently down my stomach. I remembered her attentions to me that time in her bedroom when I hadn’t been sure I could climax. This time I was worried that I would too soon. Her mouth was so skilful, with just the right combination of speed, suction and variation that I knew I wouldn’t be able to last long. And it seemed such a waste, a quick and explosive climax all over in a few minutes. Good for me, perhaps, but less satisfactory for the girls.

I reached down and stroked Kaz’s hair. “Slower,” I said. “Please.”

She smirked – in so far as she was able – and adjusted her rhythm expertly, just dialling down the pleasure enough that I could relax and enjoy it, knowing that there was no immediate danger of exploding into that lovely mouth.

Eleanor stirred and opened her eyes. She looked at me and smiled rather woozily, Then she saw Kaz and giggled softly to herself.

“Oh Andy,” she murmured. “What have you got yourself into?”

“Hey!” said a grumpy voice from the other side of me. “Who said you could start without me?”

Kaz lifted her head and I drew a sharp intake of breath at the touch of the cool air on my wet cock.

“Take over,” said Kaz to Jen. “I want to say good morning to Eleanor.”

“Oh,” said Eleanor, eyes widening. “Oh no… you really don’t need to, Kaz…”

But she may as well have saved her breath. When Kaz was set on something, very little would stop her. As Jen made her way over to me, Kaz moved over to my other side and peeled away the covers from her friend. Eleanor, of course, was naked beneath them. I saw goosebumps forming on her arms and on the slopes of her lovely breasts.

Kaz somehow peeled off her skin-tight jeans in an elegant, almost single movement that mentally I made a note I should try and remember – when it came to removing my own jeans elegantly it usually turned into an undignified wrestling match with much tugging and cursing. Then, just in skimpy white panties and her black t shirt, she slid between Eleanor’s legs and pushed them slightly more apart.

“Oh no,” said Eleanor again, but with even less conviction. “Oh Kaz…”

I felt Jen’s mouth envelop me and I looked down to watch her. She too was engrossed by the tableau on the other side of me, her eyes greedily taking in the scene even as she moved her head up and down. I didn’t blame her for not giving me her full attention.

Eleanor sighed again, a long, happy drawn out sound. She stretched out both her arms and surrendered herself to Kaz’s attentions. I took the hand nearest to me in mine. After a second, Jen did the same, putting her hand over mind so the three of us had our hands stacked like in that children’s game.

Eleanor closed her eyes. “That’s so lovely… oh yes, that’s so lovely… I do love you Kaz… Oh, that’s so…”

Jen’s breathing had changed rize escort as she watched this. I wasn’t surprised by what she decided next. She removed her mouth, moved up my body, and lowered herself down onto me, never taking her eyes off the action unfolding beside us. Then she bent down and lay on my chest, her head just below my chin. She twitched her hips against me in an unmistakeable request. Or perhaps it was a command. Either way, I was happy to comply.

I began to thrust slowly up into her, my spare arm encircling her. The other was still stretched out so I could hold Eleanor’s hand. From deep within Jen I felt a small grunt of satisfaction.

Kaz’s tongue was clearly working overtime now. Eleanor was squirming and writhing and beginning to gasp. Her grip tightened on mine, a surprising strength for such a slight, gentle girl.

“Oh Kaz… you’re going to make me… yes… please Kaz… don’t stop… oh god I love the way you… mmm… oh…”

Like all of them, my own excitement was building. I began to fuck Jen more firmly, tightening my grip on her, using her body more urgently and selfishly. She didn’t seem to mind, turning her attention more fully to me and reaching up to lock her mouth to mine.

“Yes. Fuck yes, Andy! Fuck me hard while Kaz makes Lennie come. Please fuck me hard!”

It is not often, I imagine, that two sisters orgasm within a few seconds of each other in the same room. I’d like to say it was at the same moment, but Eleanor came first by a few seconds, a long drawn out howl of pleasure that was quite uncharacteristic of her. The sound seemed to trigger Jen, she suddenly locked her legs more tightly around me and stopped moving, her body stiffening and going rigid.

“Oh fuck yes!” she said. “Oh fuck fuck yes!”

I felt her muscles contract and her whole body tremble. I lay still, looking up at her. I resisted the urge to fuck her harder, to get myself over the edge and climax deep inside her, which nearly every fibre of my being was urging me to do.

“Oh god… I do love being fucked… so much.”

Kaz eased herself out from between Eleanor’s legs.

“Did he come in you Jen? Or have you left him for me to finish off?”

It was amusing – but also terrifically sexy – that she asked Jen rather than me. I was, in many ways, their sexual toy. They liked me, I think they even loved me, but their own bonds of friendship and affection came first, and I would never be a full member of that circle. And that was entirely right. I certainly wasn’t complaining.

“He’s all yours,” said Jen, rolling off me with uncharacteristic generosity and grace. “I’m not sure my pussy can take ever having sex again.”

“Wanna bet?” asked Kaz. “I reckon forty-five minutes tops.”

Even as she spoke Kaz was slipping off her underwear and tugging her top upwards to reveal that she hadn’t bothered with a bra that day.

She looked at me with that lovely devilish glint.

“Consent is very important,” she said to me solemnly. “Do I have your consent for sexual intercourse, Andy?”

“Um,” I said. “Let me think about it.”

She nodded, and reached out and put her hand around my cock.

“Yes. You think about it.”

Eleanor, lying beside us, still rather pink-faced, decided to chip in. “Please fuck her, Andy. For me.” She gave me a mock pleading look, all big eyes and overdone sincerity.

I sighed. “Fine. If I must. Let’s get this over with.”

“Such a gentleman,” sighed Kaz. “How would sir like me?”

“On your back,” I said. “Let’s go old-school, shall we?”

We rearranged ourselves, Kaz settling herself beneath me with a faux meekness that I resolved I would soon banish.

I positioned myself above, my cock – still wet from Jen – resting on her pubic mound.

“Talking of consent,” I said. “Do you want me to fuck you, Kathryn?”

“Yes. Fuck me. Now please.”

“Lawyers like things to be transparent and unambiguous,” I said. “Perhaps I should get you to sign something.”

“Give the poor girl what she wants,” said Eleanor firmly, and with a touch of reproach.

“Come on Andy, fuck her really hard,” said Jen, who was lying the other side of me with her eyes closed and her face still a little pink. “Fuck her hard until she begs you to stop.”

“Hey!” said Kaz, not used to being the one at the mercy of the others. She didn’t look entirely opposed to the idea though.

Then she gasped as I pushed myself into her, stretching out that delicious tight passage.

“Oh yes fuck… I needed that…”

There are few more primal feelings than being erect and aroused and having a lovely nubile girl beneath you. It may not be the most sophisticated sexual position, and it is certainly harder work than many of the others – but when you’re in the mood and you want to lose yourself deep in the other person – then a good hard missionary position fuck is hard to beat.

I used her body for my own pleasure even as she did the same to me. Long, hard, thrusting strokes into that receptive body. Her nipples grazing my chest. Her mouth occasionally bostnews.com rising up to meet mine, locking tongues briefly, then her head falling back again onto the pillow. I could taste Eleanor when we kissed. Her eyes closed. Chewing her lips. Her face tensing as I reached the point of maximum penetration inside her, then relaxing slightly as I slipped backwards and out.

I realised she was moving her own hips beneath me in an attempt to get the friction she needed and I paused mid stroke.

“Use me,” I told her. “Use my cock Kathryn.”

She put her hands on my hips to give herself better traction and began to grind herself beneath me. Not huge movements, just rubbing herself hard against me with small twitches and thrusts. I felt my cock pressed hard against her pubic bone.

Her breathing became more ragged and the movements more frantic.

“So close… so fucking close.”

She pushed and squirmed and ground herself even harder against me.

“Now!” she suddenly said. “Fuck me now, as hard as you can, please – please!”

I resumed my thrusts, as hard as I could now. It only took three or four strokes and she was crying out as her orgasm washed through her.

“Oh fuck! OH FUCK!”

Again I found myself pausing so the girl I was with could relish her climax but Kaz was having none of it.

“No… keep fucking me… come in me Andy… fucking come in me!”

Another four or five hard strokes and I was on the edge. Kaz was hardly aware of me I think, but her arms remained around me and her body was all I needed. I came with a loud cry of my own as I began to spurt inside her.

“Fuck Kaz! Fuck I’m coming…”

“Mmm,” I heard Jen say from somewhere a hundred miles away. “It’s so fucking sexy when a man comes, isn’t it?”

“Sssh Jen.” Dear lovely Eleanor.

The next thing I remember is the cold feel of a flannel being applied to my groin. I looked down to see Jen, cleaning and soothing with all the attention and concern of a nurse mopping the brow of a fevered soldier.

“It looked so red and sore,” she explained. “I thought this might help.”

“Thank you. It does.”

“What you need,” said Eleanor, leaning over and kissing my sweaty forehead. “Is a cup of tea and some breakfast.”

“Are there any biscuits?” asked Jen. “Or did we eat them all?”

I lay back and closed my eyes.

It was only Saturday morning. I wondered if I could live until Sunday. I decided that even if I didn’t, it would be worth it.


Sometimes opportunities present themselves before you’re quite ready for them. In fact, probably they hardly ever arrive at the ideal time. They’re either a little sooner than you’d like or just a little too late to make a difference.

A few days after that memorable weekend with my girls, Mr Bishop called me into his office for a chat. This was a rare occurrence, as he found one to one discussions a little awkward and preferred to have more informal, far-ranging discussions with myself and Mary, the office manager who had been his secretary for more than twenty years.

“Ah, Andrew,” he muttered to himself as I tried to make myself comfortable in the chair opposite him. “Yes, thank you for… stopping by.”

He peered at me over the top of his glasses.

“You like it here, don’t you?”

“Yes, I said, quite honestly. This was already the most personal conversation I’d ever had with him.

“Not too… dull, for you? A town this size?”

“No,” I said, wondering for a wild moment if perhaps news of my sexual adventures had got back to him. Had Jen blurted something out to her mother? Had Mr Bishop just had her on the telephone, demanding my immediate dismissal? I knew this was ridiculous, but still… something about his manner seemed so different that I was on my guard.

“Good, good.” He seemed at a loss as to how to proceed next.

“I’m, sixty-four, you know.”

“Really… I thought you were much younger.” This was a lie. I had thought he was sixty-eight at least.

He snorted a little at that. “Yes, well… there we are.”

We both contemplated his age for a few moments. I was beginning to get an inkling of what was coming next.

“You’re not thinking of retiring, Mr Bishop?”

I was genuinely surprised to hear myself asking the question. I had thought – or perhaps assumed – that he would not be retiring for at least several more years.

“Ah.” He looked a little disconcerted at such a blunt approach. “Well… it’s certainly a possibility, let’s put it like that. Still a few things I’d like to do, you know? Travel a bit, perhaps.”

This was even more surprising. Mr Bishop was not somebody I’d ever considered having the travel bug. On the few occasions he had needed to go to London on business he had come back with the air of somebody returning from a particular bloody tour of the Congo. But I nodded sympathetically.

“I see,” I said. “Well… I quite understand.”

“Do you?” He peered at me again. “Obviously there would be… implications. If I was to… retire.”

He said the word as if he didn’t quite believe it himself.

“I imagine there would be,” I said.

“Maybury and Sons have always been very keen to merge with us, you know?”

I nodded. It didn’t surprise me. They were slightly bigger than us, slightly more modern, though in my dealings with them I hadn’t been overly impressed with the quality of their work. Our firm, for all its old-fashioned ways that often drove me up the wall, had a number of prestige clients that Maybury and Sons would dearly have loved to acquire.

“Have they made you an offer?”

“No. I, um, wanted to speak to you first.”

I was genuinely touched by that. I wasn’t even a partner, though I knew I probably deserved to be offered to be made one soon. I had been carrying the firm for a number of months now, and he knew it.

“I’ve never really rated Maybury that highly, really, Andrew. Just between us.”

I should step back here and perhaps explain some of the facts of life for those who run small firms. Often the business is entirely wrapped in one or two people, and if they want to retire, it can be a challenge to find somebody who’s prepared to offer much money for what’s left after they’ve gone. A Bishops law firm without the afore-mentioned Mr Bishop would be a shell of a thing in many ways.

Of course, Maybury and Sons would know this as well as anyone. If Mr Bishop wanted to retire, he wasn’t in a strong negotiating position. If they just waited, he would have to simply shut down the firm and shuffle off with no extra capital at all, just the savings – if any – that he’d managed to put away during his working life. But they would probably want to offer him something, be able to announce it as a merger to reassure those bigger clients that there would be a continuity of sorts, just in case they were tempted to move their business to bigger, London-based firms.

But how much would that be worth, I wondered? What sort of offer did I need to come up with to tempt Mr Bishop to hand the business over to me? And could I possibly raise the funds I needed?

“I don’t hugely rate them either,” I said. “Mr Bishop… I need some time to digest this. Could we speak again later in the week, perhaps?”

“Certainly, Andrew.” He looked relieved. It is always good, when you’re trying to make an exit, to have as many options as possible. He probably had a shrewd idea of my finances and correspondingly low expectations. There was certainly more than a touch of self- interest in him implicitly inviting me to make an offer, but it was also quite flattering.

We shook hands and I retreated to my office to ponder. For the first time in a long time I barely thought about the girls for an hour.

And then my phone buzzed with a message, and I learnt that they were leaving.


It was the bookshop owner who had spoilt things.

“He wants to marry Mummy,” sobbed Jen. We were sitting in a café in one of the more down at heel parts of town, where there was relatively little risk of being seen by anybody who knew us. All three girls were there. Eleanor looking grave, Kaz for once quiet and subdued, and Jen in tears.

“We’re very pleased for her of course,” said Eleanor. “But she’s got the idea it should be a new start for all of us.”

“You’re old enough to make your own decisions,” I said carefully. I knew how protective these girls were of their mother.

Eleanor stirred her coffee. “Yes… but I feel like she really wants us to come with her.”

It transpired that the bookshop owner actually owned a chain of bookshops. Whereas we had pictured a rather bumbling, tweedy elderly man in a beard and with patches on the elbows of his jacket, it turned out he was only a little older than me. And his bookshops, rather than being dusty backwaters with tottering piles of unloved second-hand Agatha Christie paperbacks, were trendy and brightly lit with cafes and piped music and enthusiastic highly trained staff.

What he was proposing was to move them all closer to his headquarters, a much bigger town the other side of London. This was where he spent most of his time.

“He’s got a really nice house,” said Kaz. “She showed us pictures. And a place in Spain. I mean, that’ll be nice. Having holidays in Spain whenever you want.”

Jen snuffled. “I don’t want to go to Spain! I want to stay here… with you and Andy and everybody I know.”

“What about your studies?” I looked at Eleanor.

She shrugged. “I finish in the summer. Then I had to decide what I wanted to do anyway. Jen’s a year behind me… Mum’s already picked out a couple of colleges she could go to. Much better than then one we’re at, if we’re honest. Really good ratings, and the facilities do look amazing.”

Jen scowled at her sister. This was a rare occurrence, but just then Jen regarded even the most half-hearted support for the move as a bitter betrayal.

I pondered. Part of me, I’m ashamed to admit, wondered if this wasn’t a good thing. I would miss them dreadfully, not just for the sexual fun and games but I genuinely adored all of them. Of course, Kaz would still be around but it wouldn’t be the same. But they had their own lives to lead, and perhaps this was a chance for a clean, if heart-breaking parting of the ways.

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