Breeding My Drunk Sister

Breeding My Drunk Sister

Nym Hexel

The front door clicked shut behind them as Toby Collins helped his younger sister Daisy stumble into the quiet family home. It was well past midnight on a warm Friday night, and the house was dark except for the soft glow of the living room lamp Toby had left on earlier. Toby, twenty five years old, was tall and athletic with short dark hair, sharp features, and a lean, muscular build from years of playing sports. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans, his arm wrapped firmly around his sister’s waist to keep her steady.

Daisy Collins was twenty-one years old, a pretty girl with long wavy chestnut hair that was currently messy from the night out, soft hazel eyes, and a curvy yet soft body. She had full C cup breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips that filled out her short black party dress. The dress had ridden up her thighs during the taxi ride home, and she made no effort to pull it down. She was clearly very drunk — her cheeks flushed, her movements clumsy, and her words slurred with giggles.

“Bro… you’re the best,” Daisy slurred happily as Toby guided her toward the living room sofa. “That club was so much fun. I danced so hard my feet hurt. You didn’t have to pick me up, but I’m glad you did.”

Toby helped her sit down on the large sectional sofa. He had offered to pick her up after she texted him that her friends had left her at the club. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this for months. His sister had grown into a beautiful, teasing young woman, and the thought of having her had consumed him. Tonight, with her drunk and vulnerable, he finally felt bold enough to act.

“You’re really drunk, sis,” Toby said, sitting close beside her. His hand rested on her bare thigh, slowly sliding higher under the hem of her short dress. “You should drink some water.”

Daisy giggled and leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “Water is ...