Chapter 53: Home

“I’m Rachael. Pleased to meet you.”

The young woman’s resemblance to my Head Girlfriend was unmistakable. “You’re Sam’s older sister. She’s talked about you.”

Rachael’s eyes narrowed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

I smirked and looked down for a moment. I knew Sam wasn’t particularly close with either of her older siblings. “Well, she’s talked enough for me to know you’re finishing up your first year at Stanford Med. She’s not here, by the way, although I do expect her back pretty soon. Won’t you come in?”

Rachael nodded and walked past me into the foyer when I stood back and gestured her inside. I couldn’t help but let my eyes give her the once over. Including the sisters’ mother, all three Smith women were quite buxom and curvaceous. All three dyed their hair platinum-blonde. But Rachael looked to have picked up her father’s height and stood perhaps two inches taller than both Sam and their mom, and Rachael’s hair was also styled with extra waves and curls that bespoke of additional time spent in front of a mirror each morning. Her outfit was both tasteful and alluring. And at the age of 23, Rachael carried herself with poise and maturity while remaining at the peak of her youthful beauty.

All in all, she was a very attractive young woman.

I closed the door and turned around to find that attractive young woman looking not at me, but up the stairs instead. Zofi was coming down, but the brunette stopped only a third of the way down in surprise and exclaimed, “Rachael? What are you doing here?”

Rachael didn’t react except to frown as her eyes shot daggers at me. “Does your girlfriend know you’re banging her best friend?” she accused a little hotly.

I smirked and splayed my hands out openly. “Sam knows everything.”

The newcomer processed that, giving me a furrowed-brow expression that looked exactly like Sam’s whenever she mentally processed something. I chuckled and gestured towards the formal living room, asking politely, “Can I get you something to drink?”

Rachael eyed me carefully and cocked her head to the side like a bird. “You know what? I’m glad Sam’s not here yet. You and I need to talk.”

Instead of going home, Zofi decided to stick around and be part of the subsequent conversation out of an interest in protecting Sam. I think she worried I might say the wrong thing or otherwise give away too much information to the enemy. I was a male after all, and therefore easily misled by a beautiful girl. And Rachael was a gorgeous busty blonde used to getting her way.

That said, my loyalty to the BTC gave me the steel spine I needed to deflect many of Rachael’s questions. With Zofi curled up against my side, her long legs tucked up beneath her while the lissome brunette wrapped herself around my left arm acting rather ... well ... more expressly affectionate than she usually acted, it was more than obvious that my relationship with Sam was not an exclusively monogamous one. But beyond that, Rachael wasn’t getting anything out of me about the BTC.

Some things, I could tell her. Was Sam imposing? Not at all. Did she really have her own room? Of course. Was I gay? Obviously not, especially the way I kept struggling to keep my eyes from dropping down to Rachael’s cleavage.

Was I prepared to let Sam stay through summer until we all went off to college? Of course. Did I love her? Yes. Would Sam come home if their dad stopped being such a stubborn arsehole?

“Well...” I smiled and shrugged before finishing, “That one you’d have to ask Sam yourself.”

It wasn’t a one-way conversation. Zofi had her own questions, and once Zofi got started, so did I.

Why was Rachael here? The girls’ ‘Mummy’ had called in reinforcements. Had the ‘stubborn arsehole’ changed his mind about cutting Sam off for rejecting her Stanford acceptance letter and going to hated Cal Berkeley instead? Well, no. Why did Sam and Rachael never really get along?

“Well...” Rachael laughed and looked away for a moment before finishing, “That one you’d have to ask Sam yourself.”

“I intend to, but what do YOU think?” I pressed. “When you first came to the door and I said that Sam had talked about you, your response was rather doubtful. You seem perfectly aware that your relationship is a little strained.”

The gorgeous blonde sighed. Her right leg was crossed over her left knee with her hands interlaced atop the right knee, and she looked down at her thumbs for a moment, watching them flip-flop which thumb was on top. After a deep breath, she regarded me coolly and stated, “The short answer is that she’s always been jealous of me. I’ve had everything she ever wanted, and she’s always struggled to measure up.”

“Not that you ever helped her,” Zofi chided with more than a hint of bitterness. I got the impression Sam had bitched about her older sister to Zofi many times.

Rachael sighed. “I’m five years older than her. By the time she was in eighth grade I was already in college. I had my own life, my own things to deal with--”

“And didn’t have time for your baby sister,” Zofi finished for her.

Rachael pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “It’s not my fault Mum and Dad spent Sam’s formative years trying to challenge her by saying, ‘Well Rachael did this’ or ‘When Rachael was your age, she could already do that’. I heard about all that stuff second-hand weeks or even months after they happened. And what, was I supposed to apologize for the things I’d accomplished when I was younger?”

“No, everyone should be proud of their accomplishments,” I replied seriously. “But at the same time, was everything easy for you when you were younger? Did your parents challenge you too by saying, ‘When John was your age he could do this or that’? Did you ever struggle to measure up to their expectations?”

Rachael sighed. “This is the part where you tell me I could’ve at least let my baby sister know things weren’t always easy for me, either. Let her know that I had my own fears and insecurities I had to get past in order to achieve what I did.”

I shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

The prim blonde scoffed, “Nobody had to help me. I didn’t have a big sister to reassure me when my parents were tough.”

“Apparently, neither did Sam,” I shot back.

Rachael scowled a bit, and I started to feel bad. Here was a young woman I’d only just met, and a guest in my home at that, and here Zofi and I were basically attacking her. So before she could respond, I held my hand up and apologized, “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to get on your case like this. We’ve only just met.”

“Well we haven’t only just met,” Zofi challenged, her gaze flinty.

“Zofi, please,” I soothed, rubbing her hip. She gave me a confused look while I asked her to cool it with my eyes. And when I turned back to Rachael, I stated firmly, “Regardless of your current relationship or lack thereof with Sam, you’re here. That means you give a shit. At least, I hope you’re not here only because your mom asked you to make an appearance and you’d be happy to leave now and tell her, ‘I tried.’”

Rachael eyed me curiously, her expression again quite familiar to one of Sam’s expressions. It was as if she’d already formed her opinion of me as just another guy unworthy of her consideration, but my abrupt shift in tone was fucking with that opinion.

“You, me, Zofi ... even your mom who apparently sent you here to make peace,” I continued, “we all care about Sam. We want her happy. And as much as I might selfishly want to keep my girlfriend under the same roof as me, I know how much it hurts her to feel estranged from her family like this. You asked me before if Sam would go home if your dad stopped being such a ‘stubborn arsehole’. I think the answer is: Yes, she would.’”

Zofi frowned. “But Sam loves it here! She loves being here with you. She loves being here with your mom. Why would she move back home?”

“Because it’s ‘home’. You’re right: she gets to be with me, she gets along great with Mother, and she doesn’t have to put up with her parents comparing her to Rachael. But this place can never feel like home. Every morning, she wakes up in my arms not only because she enjoys waking up in my arms, but because the few times she wakes up in the spare bedroom, she’s confronted with the fact that she’s not living under her own roof. This isn’t where she belongs.” I raised my eyebrows and gave Zofi a serious look. “Have you noticed she never completely unpacked? So much of her stuff is still in suitcases or boxes, ready to move back to her REAL home when the coast is clear.”

Rachael frowned. “But why? When I was home, I couldn’t WAIT to get out of the house and out from under my parents’ thumb. From my perspective, it seems like Sam actually did something I could never do: break free of their expectations, move out while still in high school, and find a really nice situation for herself with you. If I were in her position I’d stay here instead of going back into the lion’s den.”

“Yeah, why not just stay here?” Zofi chimed in. “Does it even really matter? In little more than three months she’s moving to Berkeley with you anyway, and whether or not she lives at her own house will be completely moot.”

“In Berkeley, Sam and I will live in our home together. That’s different from feeling like an outsider crashing in my home. Plus, whether or not you think three months is a long time,” I sighed while reaching up to caress Zofi’s cheek, “when three months is all the time you have left, you don’t want to waste a minute of it.”

Whimpering softly, Zofi grabbed my head and kissed me fiercely. I lost myself in her embrace and kissed back with equal passion, at least until I remembered we had an audience and pulled away to glance sheepishly back at Rachael. “Sorry about that.”

The older girl’s eyes clicked back and forth between me and Zofi. “What, exactly, is your relationship with each other?”

Zofi wrapped her arms tighter around my shoulders. “I’m his girlfriend.”

Rachael’s eyes narrowed. “Mum told me Sam was his girlfriend.”

Zofi rolled her eyes. “Sam’s his Head Girlfriend. I know: it’s complicated.”

Rachael blinked and looked thoughtful. “You know, Mum DID tell me to report back every little detail I learned, like the bit about whether or not Sam has her own room. But I think I’m going to omit this little detail. She’ll be happier thinking they’re exclusive. As for Dad, he actually still thinks Matty’s gay and Sam’s just crashing because he has the room.”

Zofi giggled.

Rachael gestured at the pair of us. “The three of you clearly have things worked out to your satisfaction. So why mess with that? You still haven’t explained why you think she wants to come home.”

I sighed and took a deep breath. Giving Rachael a frank look, I explained, “You probably don’t know much about me, but my parents divorced when I was little and my mother was absent most of the time afterward; I pretty much spent my formative years next door with the neighbors. I’m fairly independent now, and while my mother and I have quite honestly had a much better relationship these last few months, I still spent years looking around at other families - at my friends and the way they interacted with their parents – and couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loss.”

My voice was a little thicker than I would’ve wanted, and Zofi squeezed herself around me protectively. I patted her shoulder, let the side of my head press against hers, and then looked back at Rachael.

“Running away and moving in with me for good would effectively cut Sam off from her parents. On the surface, it may seem like an ideal situation, but we all know what kind of message that would send if they didn’t reconcile before the end of the year. She’s insulting her parents by moving out right now. She’s disrespecting their authority over her, which is why your dad is being so stubborn about not giving in. The fact that she went to such an extreme measure hopefully got the point across how serious she is about NOT following in the rest of your footsteps, but at the end of the day I don’t think she’s ready to completely burn the bridge. If she did, she’d forever feel that same deep sense of loss I’ve felt all my life at not having the family everybody else around me has. And as stubborn as she is about not giving in before your dad does, she really does want to go back home where she belongs.”

Rachael didn’t respond to that right away. She just sort of processed what I was saying for a while, and again I was struck by how similar she appeared to Sam. Finally, though, she looked back at me. “You really believe she wants to come home?”

“I know it,” I stated with certainty. I arched my eyebrows, adding, “And this is where you come in.”

“Me?”

“You agreed to come here at your mom’s request, right? I’m guessing her marching orders were to talk to Sam and somehow convince her to come home, in addition to doing a little fact finding about her situation here with me. Well that works both ways. If you’re the golden child that Sam was always struggling to emulate, that means you’ve got some clout with your parents. They’ll listen to you. YOU can convince your dad to extend an olive branch, because I’m telling you now that as much as Sam wants to reconcile, she will NOT make the first move. Go home. Tell him what I’ve told you. He has the power to get his baby girl to come back to the nest, if only he can let go of his pride.”

Rachael shook her head. “I dunno about that. You think Sam’s stubborn? You’ve never gone up against my dad’s stubbornness. I’d put 50-50 odds on him caving in sometime around the next millennium, let alone before you two leave for Berkeley.”

I gave her a frank look. “It’s worth a try. IF you’re willing to make the effort for your little sister.”

Just then, the sound of a key in the front door drew our attention. I turned my head to glance out the window, and sure enough Sam’s Escalade was parked outside in the driveway.

Moments later, my Head Girlfriend herself walked in and immediately fixed her older sister with a frosty stare. “Thought’ah reckonize’ yo’ cah’routsahd. What’ah y’doin’ heeyah?” Her accent had gotten thicker.

Although she’d certainly thawed while chatting with us, Rachael’s demeanor immediately switched back to ‘imperious elder sister’ at Sam’s arrival. She rolled her eyes and scoffed condescendingly, “Don’t ask questions to which you already know the answer.”

Sam narrowed her eyes and it looks could kill, Rachael would be dead a hundred times over. For a long few seconds, the two sisters simply stared each other down.

But eventually, Sam spoke.

“Zofi, would you be a dear and walk Matty over to Belle’s place? It’s nearing dinnertime.” Sam’s voice was ice and her gaze never left Rachael’s face.

“No welcome hug or goodbye kiss for your loving boyfriend who was schtupping your best friend while you were gone?” Rachael taunted.

“Matty, Zofi, and I are perfectly comfortable with our relationships to not get stung by your pathetic barbs. The three of us will talk later.”

I nodded as Zofi and I got up, agreeing, “That we will.”

When Zofi got up, she grimaced a little from my afternoon’s maiden voyage into her rear passage. And when Sam noticed, she immediately lost her ice queen demeanor. “Oh shit, Zofi, I was gonna ask how--”

“It’s cool. Matty was great,” her BFF interrupted with a small wave. “We’ll find another time I can give you all the details.”

Sam rolled her eyes and scowled at Rachael, grumbling, “Just one more thing to be pissed off at her about.”

I walked over to Sam, and she gave me a quick peck. I didn’t ask if she needed anything from me; she’d already made clear she could handle this and would feel better if I was out of the house. “I’ll bring you a plate back,” I told her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, her attention already back on Rachael.

“Oh, and don’t break any furniture,” I added.

That got Sam to look back at me in confusion. “What?”

I bared my teeth and hooked my right hand into a claw. “Meow...”

Sam snorted and cracked a smile. I gave her a quick kiss again, and then Zofi and I headed out.

“So what happened then?”

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she did so. We sat together atop my bed, she with her legs crossed between my two outstretched legs while I continued to massage her neck.

Keeping her head pitched forward and limp, allowing me to tilt it to one side or the other as my magic fingers worked at her tense muscles, Sam muttered, “She said she’d talk to Dad and work her ‘Favorite Child’ magic on him for me. She’s always had him wrapped around her little finger. If she tells him he’s being a stubborn arsehole and he needs to apologize, he might actually listen.”

“And then what?” The moment the words left my mouth, I grimaced and silently cursed myself for the selfish whine in my voice.

Sam caught it, and she slowly raised her head back upright. Reaching back with her right hand, she briefly covered mine to stop my neck massage. And then after turning her head back to look at me and evaluate the expression on my face, she let herself gradually fall backward until her weight pressed against my chest and caused me to recline back against my pillows and headboard.

Thus situated with her head on my left pectoral, Sam reached up to grab both of my hands and pull them to her big breasts. She’d been topless for the massage after all. After she planted my palms on two of my favorite things in the world, she glanced up at my worried face. “I love you, Matty,” she began reassuringly.

“I love you, too,” I replied sincerely but screwed up my face immediately afterward. “I’m sorry. I promised I would never be clingy or otherwise impede on your normal--”

“No, no, it’s alright, don’t apologize,” she cut me off with a coy smile. “I rather like the idea that you’d miss me if I was gone.”

“WILL you be gone?”

Sam exhaled. “What I was thinking would make the most sense - under the assumption you and Beverly won’t mind – is me staying here on school nights: Sunday through Thursday. Then I can spend weekends with my parents, sleep in my own bed, and give you back to Belle at the same time.”

I smiled immediately. The worst-case scenario had been Sam moving home completely, but it had also been the scenario I’d believed was most likely. For her to suggest remaining here with me five nights a week was more than I could’ve hoped for, and it showed in my eager, “Really?”

Sam giggled and pressed my palms a little tighter around her tits. Already I knew that if she adopted this position more often: lying on my chest letting me hold her boobs, she could probably get me to agree to damn near anything. Giving me a warm smile, Sam said, “I’m happier in this house than I am in my own and I’d much rather be here with your family than mine. But at the same time, my house is...”

“Home,” I finished for her. “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

Sam nodded. “And I really do miss my parents, even my stubborn arsehole Dad. But I think spending weekends with them will be more than enough time to remind me why I’ll be eager to return here Sunday nights.”

I nodded. “I’m glad things seem to be working out for you.”

“It would seem I have you to thank for that.”

“Me?”

Sam smiled. “Rachael actually apologized to me for not being a better big sister growing up. Do you know how many times she’s ever apologized for that?”

I blinked. “Uh, not many, I’d imagine.”

“Zero,” Sam corrected, “at least until today. I asked her about that, and she said talking to you made her realize that apologizing was the least she could do to make it up to me.”

“I ... uh ... didn’t realize I had that much of an impact.” I shrugged.

“At the same time, she’s not thrilled about my situation consuming her precious time to not only visit me, but to also spend an evening using her leverage with Dad to get him to admit he’s in the wrong. And for that, she said I’m going to owe her big time.”

“Umm, okay...”

Sam smiled. “Do you know how many times she’s ever told me I owe her one?”

“Zero?”

“Good guess.”

I gave her a curious look. “So what does all that mean?”

Sam gave me a hopeful smile. “I think it means she might start making an effort to actually BE my big sister.”

Everything happened really fast after that. It was late that night when Sam’s dad called my house and had a brief conversation with his daughter. The very next afternoon, instead of lounging around my swimming pool with the rest of the BTC for one of our regular Friday afternoon hangout sessions, Sam was in her room packing up. Her books and the majority of her school clothes she was leaving behind for the expected school nights she’d be spending with me, but her most precious personal mementos she was taking back where they belonged: in her bedroom. In her home. And all too eager to return, as soon as she was done packing, she came to give me a quick kiss goodbye, told the rest of the girls she’d see them at school on Monday, and then left my house as suddenly as she’d arrived nearly five weeks earlier.

In the evening, I found myself standing in front of the toilet brushing my teeth. Yes, you read that right. See, my bathroom mirror ran the length of the countertop and across the wall above the toilet, and Belle was brushing her teeth right next to me over the sink. She tended to let more foamy toothpaste dribble out of her mouth than I did (especially whenever she did that gag-reflex-probing thing as “training”).

We moved around each other with practiced ease, the same way we moved around each other in her kitchen while making dinners together. When I was done and needed to rinse my mouth, she wordlessly stepped to the side while continuing to rub on her facewash. When I was done rinsing, I wordlessly stepped aside while she cleaned off her face.

When we were both done, we climbed into bed together and she lay her head on my chest while cuddling herself around me in a firm hug. But as pleasant and familiar as the position felt, I couldn’t help but sigh a little mournfully.

“Missing Sam a bit?” Belle asked softly.

“Yeah,” I sighed. A moment later, I bent to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for being here with me. I need you tonight, need my anchor, to remind me everything will be alright in the end.”

She smiled immediately, and then looked up at me. “Everything WILL be alright.”

I sighed again. “It’s weird. Three weeks ago we had this big discussion about whether or not Sam would become my girlfriend. She said she felt obligated to become an affectionately devoted girlfriend while I told her I didn’t want her changing her behavior just for me. I sort of figured things would stay status quo, but in the end having her living here for so long just lent itself to us spending an incredible amount of time together. I got used to her presence. I got used to waking up with her every morning, even if we didn’t always fall asleep together. And just the idea that she’s back home right now instead of in the bedroom across the hall...”

When my voice trailed off, Belle rubbed my chest as she murmured, “You miss her. That’s to be expected. And even though you stated you wouldn’t expect her to always be here for you--”

“I started expecting her to always be here for me,” I muttered. “I mean, I always knew she wanted to go back home, and I told myself to be mentally prepared for her to go back home, but I let myself start to believe it might never happen. And with the three of us going to Berkeley together, I started to think I might NEVER have to wake up in the morning without her under the same roof for the rest of our lives.”

That comment got Belle to sit up and look at me. “For the rest of your lives?”

I blinked. “Well, for the next three months and around four years at least.”

“Nuh-uh, you just said ‘the rest of our lives’,” she teased with a smirk.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Tell me YOU haven’t thought about getting a place together in Berkeley being the start of you never having to wake up without me under the same roof for the rest of our lives.”

“Of course. A lifelong ‘sister’ gets to think about being together with you forever. Isn’t that the whole point?”

“I suppose.”

“Sam, on the other hand, is a girlfriend.”

“So are you.”

“Pssht.” Belle waved me off. “I’m one of seven girlfriends at the moment, and even that’s only temporary until the BTC comes to an end. Sam’s never gonna be your sister, so that pretty much means the only way you’re going to live the rest of your life together is if you marry her.”

I sighed. “Let’s not read too much into a throwaway comment like ‘the rest of our lives’ unless you want me to go back to strictly avoiding any discussion about other girls with you.”

“Not necessary. I’m not jealous of Sam. I think she’s perfect for you, and she makes a much better girlfriend for you than me. I really AM happy with my place in your life, and I’m looking forward to the way our relationships will grow once we’re on our own together in Berkeley.”

“Me too.”

“Besides, I know something you don’t that is sure to make you feel better.”

“What’s that?”

“So I got to talking to Zofi this afternoon. She told me about your conversation with Sam’s big sister. About how you figured your house could never really feel like ‘home’ for her.”

I arched an eyebrow. “And?”

Belle grinned at me. “So Zofi talked about all that stuff with Sam at school today to get Sam’s take on the idea.”

I arched both eyebrows. “And?”

Belle squeezed me tightly. “Apparently Sam told her, ‘Home is where the heart is, and my heart is with Matty.’”

I squeezed Belle tightly in return. “You’re right: That does make me feel better.”

“Holy crap,” I muttered in absolute shock at the sight before me. “If this is the way you’re going to greet me whenever you’re gone for a couple of days, I might encourage you to leave more often.”

Sam giggled and asked, “I take it that means Master likes Tight-Arse Slut’s surprise?”

“Master likes VERY much,” I confirmed.

Before me, Sam and Holly knelt completely naked in the middle of the foyer wearing blindfolds with their wrists handcuffed behind themselves. Behind me, Belle closed the door quickly. We had just walked over from having dinner with her dad, and I’d been wondering why she was furtively glancing around during the walk as if afraid somebody might see us. Thankfully, the street had been empty when I opened the front door. I also understood now why she’d stepped away for a moment just before we left, probably to make a phone call.

In less time than I would’ve imagined, Belle managed to strip herself naked and walk over to me holding a third blindfold and set of lined handcuffs.

“Somebody did some shopping over the weekend,” I marveled.

“Ask your Head Girlfriend,” Belle giggled while giving me a pixie wink. Moments later, I covered her eyes and pressed her naked body against my midsection while reaching down to fasten the cuffs behind her back. Once the metal audibly clicked, I seized her head in my hands and rather roughly shoved my tongue between her lips. She caught on quick and moaned into my mouth while I let my hands rove all over her naked body.

“Master orders his Sluts to stand up before their knees get bruised and wait here for just a moment,” I stated after breaking my lips away from Belle’s. Silently, both Sam and Holly obeyed.

Meanwhile, I held the back of Belle’s head and guided her in front of me to make sure she didn’t accidentally bump into anything while blindfolded. I led her into the family room, grabbed three of the throw pillows, and set all of them down in a row. After guiding Belle into a kneeling position atop the far-right pillow, I returned to collect both Sam and Holly as well.

Once I had all three of my Sluts kneeling in a row, I disrobed myself and stepped forward. Tight-Ass Slut was first, and I held her head in my hands and separated my thumb and pinky as silent direction for her to open her mouth. She willingly obeyed, and moments later she made little “glug, glug” noises while I slowly pumped my way in and out of her throat.

Next came Personal Slut. Her hair was still lime green but her dirty-blonde roots were becoming quite evident, typically a sign that she was due for a change. After Tight-Ass Slut’s little warmup, I was a little rougher with Personal Slut, not yet thrusting rapidly but I did push all the way in to a deep-throat and held it there a second too long, bringing her right to the point of gagging. With her wrists still cuffed behind her back, she was helpless to resist, and when I finally withdrew she gasped and coughed just a little. Still, not bad for a girl who’d actually been unable to deep-throat me the first time we ever hooked up way back in the beginning.

Matty’s Little Cumslut, I already knew, couldn’t actually get all of me in. Even pushing a couple of inches into her throat left about an inch of my dick still remaining. Her proportions were just too small. Still, after face-fucking the two Sluts before her, I was having a little bit of a power-trip and pushed my Baby Belle a little more than I probably would have otherwise, and her little “glug, glug” noises really got my adrenaline going.