Breeding My Sister

The morning sun filtered through the hospital blinds, casting pale stripes across the sterile white room. I stood by the window, watching my sister breastfeed our daughter, and wondered how we'd gotten here. How the fuck had I become a father to my own sister's child? A child the world would know as my niece, never my daughter.

"She has your eyes," Sarah whispered, looking up at me with those same hazel eyes we'd both inherited from our mother. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, dark circles beneath her eyes from the eighteen hours of labor she'd endured. She looked exhausted but radiant, the way women always describe new mothers. My sister, the mother of my child.

"She's perfect," I said, moving closer to the bed. I reached out and touched the baby's tiny hand, marveling at how small, how fragile she was. Emma. We'd named her Emma after our grandmother. Emma Rose, though on her birth certificate, the father's name would read "Unknown." That was the lie we'd have to live with for the rest of our lives.

Sarah adjusted her hospital gown, exposing more of her breast as Emma latched on and began to nurse. I tried not to stare at the swollen fullness of my sister's tits, the way her nipple had darkened during pregnancy, but I'd seen everything now. I'd been inside her more times than I could count. I'd filled her with my seed over and over until we'd created this perfect, innocent life sitting in her arms.

"We can't keep doing this," Sarah said softly, not looking at me. "Not now that she's here. It's too dangerous."

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand finding hers. "I know. But I don't know how to stop."

She finally met my gaze, and I saw tears welling in her eyes. "I don't either. God help me, Jason, but I don't either."

And so I found myself thinking back to where it had all begun. Not at that fateful Halloween party where I'd first entered her, though that was the beginning of the physical act. No, this had started years before, in the quiet moments of our shared childhood, in the stolen glances that had turned into something neither of us could control.

---

Growing up, Sarah and I had been close. Two years apart in age—me being twenty-four now, her twenty-two—we'd shared everything from toys to secrets to the bathroom during those frantic mornings before school. Our parents had been decent people, if a bit distant, wrapped up in their own careers and social lives. Sarah and I had raised each other in many ways, becoming confidants in a way that siblings rarely are.

But things changed when she turned eighteen. I was twenty, home from college for the summer, and suddenly my little sister wasn't so little anymore. She'd filled out in ways that made my eyes linger too long on her bikini at the pool parties our parents threw. Her hips had widened, her breasts had swelled to a full C-cup, and her face had lost its adolescent roundness, revealing the striking woman she'd become.

I told myself it was natural. Every older brother notices when his sister becomes attractive. It didn't mean anything. I dated other women, brought them home, fucked them in my childhood bedroom with the door locked and music playing. But I found myself comparing them to Sarah, wondering how her lips would feel, how her pussy would grip my cock, how she'd sound when she came.

I hated myself for those thoughts. I buried them deep, drank heavily at college parties, and tried to fuck the desire out of my system with sorority girls and bar hookups. Nothing worked. Every time I closed my eyes, it was Sarah's face I saw. Sarah's body I imagined beneath me.

The summer she turned twenty-one, everything came to a head. Our parents had planned a three-week cruise to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary, leaving the house to us. Sarah was living at home while finishing her nursing degree at the local university, and I'd moved back temporarily after graduating, working at my father's accounting firm while saving for my own place.

Three weeks. Just the two of us in that big, empty house.

It started innocently enough. Movie nights on the couch, sharing a bottle of wine, talking about our lives like we always had. But the wine loosened our inhibitions, and the empty house made us bold. Sarah started wearing less around the house—tiny shorts that rode up her ass, tank tops without bras that showed her nipples when she was cold. I started noticing how her eyes lingered on my chest when I came out of the shower, how she'd find excuses to touch my arm, my shoulder, my thigh.

The night it happened, we'd finished two bottles of red wine and were watching some horror movie neither of us was really paying attention to. Sarah was curled up against me on the couch, her head on my shoulder, her hand resting on my chest. I could smell her shampoo—coconut and vanilla—and feel the heat of her body pressed against mine.

"Jason," she whispered, her voice thick with wine and something else. Something I'd been hearing in my dreams for years.

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think about... things you shouldn't?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. "What do you mean?"

She sat up, turning to face me, her eyes glassy but intense. "Things that are wrong. Things that would ruin everything if anyone knew."

I knew exactly what she meant. I'd known since we were teenagers, since I'd caught her touching herself in the shower and she'd seen me watching, neither of us saying a word about it afterward. Since we'd danced too close at our cousin's wedding and I'd felt her press against my erection, neither of us pulling away.

"Sarah," I said, my voice rough. "We can't."

"I know," she whispered, but she didn't move away. She moved closer, her hand sliding up my chest to my neck, her fingers threading into my hair. "But I want to. I've wanted to for so long, Jason. Please."

And then her lips were on mine, soft and warm and tasting like wine and forbidden fruit. I groaned, my hands finding her waist and pulling her into my lap, feeling her weight settle against my already hard cock. She gasped against my mouth, grinding down experimentally, and I lost whatever restraint I'd been clinging to.

We kissed like starving people, hands roaming everywhere, pulling at clothes, desperate to feel skin against skin. I pushed her tank top up, exposing her breasts, and took her nipple into my mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out and arch her back. She was so responsive, so fucking perfect, and she was my sister.

"Bedroom," she panted, pulling at my shirt. "Upstairs. Now."

I carried her up the stairs, her legs wrapped around my waist, our mouths never separating. We made it to her room, tumbling onto her childhood bed with its pink floral comforter, the irony not lost on me even in my lust-drunk state. I pulled her shorts down, revealing her naked pussy—she hadn't been wearing underwear—and the sight nearly undid me.

"Fuck, Sarah," I groaned, running my fingers through her folds, finding her soaked. "You're so wet."

"For you," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Only for you, Jason. Please, I need you inside me. I need to feel my brother's cock."

Hearing her say it—the explicit acknowledgment of what we were—sent a jolt of pure lust through me. I tore off my clothes, my cock springing free, hard and thick and dripping with precum. Sarah's eyes went wide, and she reached for me, wrapping her hand around my shaft and stroking slowly.

"You're so big," she whispered, her voice full of wonder. "I knew you would be. I've imagined this so many times."

"Sarah," I groaned, thrusting into her hand. "Are you sure? We can still stop."

She answered by pulling me down, guiding my cock to her entrance. "I'm sure. Fuck me, big brother. Make me yours."

I pushed inside her slowly, feeling her tight heat envelop me inch by inch. She was so tight, so fucking perfect, and the knowledge that I was the first to have her—she'd told me later she'd never let anyone else touch her, saving herself for this moment, for me—made it even more intense.

"Jason!" she cried out as I bottomed out, my hips pressed against hers, my cock buried to the hilt in my sister's virgin pussy. "Oh god, you feel so good. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

I started moving, slow thrusts at first, letting her adjust to my size, then faster as she begged for more. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the room, along with Sarah's desperate moans and my own guttural groans.

"Harder," she demanded, her nails digging into my back. "Fuck me harder, Jason. I want to feel you for days."

I gave her what she wanted, pounding into her with abandon, watching her tits bounce with each thrust, her face contorted in pleasure. She was so beautiful like this, so wild and uninhibited, and she was mine. My sister, my lover, the woman I'd craved for years.

"I'm close," she gasped, her legs wrapping tighter around my waist. "Jason, I'm going to—oh god!"

She came hard, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vice, her back arching off the bed, her scream muffled by my shoulder where she bit down to stifle the sound. The feel of her orgasm, the rhythmic pulsing of her walls around me, pushed me over the edge.

"Sarah, I'm going to cum," I warned, trying to pull out, but she held me tight.

"No," she gasped, still trembling from her climax. "Inside me. Please, Jason. I want to feel you cum inside your sister. I want your seed."

It was the dirtiest thing I'd ever heard, and it shattered my control. With a roar, I thrust deep and exploded, pumping rope after rope of hot cum into her unprotected womb, filling her with my incestuous seed, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.

We collapsed together, panting and sweating, our hearts hammering in sync. I stayed inside her, my cock still twitching with aftershocks, my cum leaking out around where we were joined.

"That was..." Sarah started, her voice dreamy.

"Incredible," I finished, kissing her forehead. "But Sarah... I came inside you. You're not on the pill?"

She shook her head, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of fear and excitement. "No. I never needed to be. But it's okay. It's the wrong time of month. I won't get pregnant."

I wanted to believe her. I should have pulled out, should have been more careful. But even as I lay there, still buried in her warmth, I knew I'd do it again. I'd take the risk again and again, because nothing had ever felt as right as being inside my sister.

We were wrong. We were broken. But in that moment, with my cum dripping out of her and her hand stroking my hair, I didn't care.

---

That first time led to a summer of secret passion. Our parents' house became our playground, every room a place where we'd fucked, sometimes multiple times a day. The kitchen counter where I'd bent her over and taken her from behind while she made coffee. The shower where I'd knelt and eaten her pussy until her legs gave out. The living room couch where we'd spent entire weekends naked, exploring every inch of each other's bodies.

Sarah was insatiable, and I was addicted. She wanted to try everything—every position, every kink, every filthy thing we could imagine. She'd whisper fantasies in my ear while I fucked her, scenarios of being caught, of being watched, of being claimed completely by her older brother.

"I want you to breed me," she said one night, three weeks into our affair. We were in my bed, her legs draped over my shoulders as I thrust slowly into her, savoring every sensation. "I want to feel you fill me with your cum every day until I'm pregnant with your baby. Our baby, Jason. Wouldn't that be perfect?"

"Sarah," I groaned, my thrusts faltering. "Don't say things like that. You know we can't."

"Can't we?" She looked up at me with those hazel eyes, full of love and lust and something dangerously close to obsession. "Who would know? We'd tell everyone I got drunk at a party. A one-night stand. No one would suspect my brother."

The idea was intoxicating. The thought of Sarah swelling with my child, of her breasts growing heavy with milk, of creating life together in the most forbidden way possible—it made my cock twitch inside her.

"You're serious," I said, not a question.

"I've never been more serious about anything," she whispered, pulling me down for a kiss. "Breed me, Jason. Make me the mother of your child. Our secret. Our perfect, beautiful secret."

And so I did. That night and every night after, I stopped pulling out. I fucked her with the explicit intention of impregnating her, filling her with my seed multiple times a day, sometimes waking her in the middle of the night just to add another load to her already full womb.

We were reckless and stupid and so fucking in love that neither of us cared about the consequences. When our parents returned from their cruise, we simply moved our activities to my apartment, where I'd started living full-time. Sarah would come over after her classes, and we'd spend hours fucking before she went home to maintain the facade of normalcy.

The day she told me she was pregnant, I felt a mixture of terror and elation. We'd done it. We'd created a life together, a life that was both the ultimate expression of our love and the greatest secret we'd ever have to keep.

"I'm keeping her," Sarah said, her hand on her still-flat stomach, tears in her eyes. "I know it's crazy. I know it will be hard. But I want this baby, Jason. I want our baby."

"So do I," I said, pulling her into my arms. "We'll figure it out. We'll make it work."

And we had. Sarah moved in with me under the guise of needing help with expenses while she finished school. Our parents were disappointed but supportive, assuming she was just going through a wild phase. They didn't know that every night, their daughter was being fucked by their son, that the "mystery man" who'd knocked her up was sleeping right down the hall.

The pregnancy had only intensified our passion. Sarah's body changed in ways that drove me wild—her breasts swelling to DD cups, her nipples darkening and becoming incredibly sensitive, her belly rounding out with my child. I couldn't keep my hands off her, and she was just as eager, her hormones making her constantly wet and ready for me.

"I need you," she'd whisper at all hours, pulling me into the bedroom or sometimes just bending over wherever we were, presenting herself to me. "The baby makes me so horny, Jason. Please, fuck your pregnant sister. Fill me with more cum. I want to be so full of your seed."

And I would. I'd take her from behind, watching her pregnant belly sway with each thrust, knowing that my cock was just inches from where our daughter grew inside her. It was the most perverse, most erotic thing I'd ever experienced, and I couldn't get enough.

The doctor had been shocked at how much Sarah wanted sex during her pregnancy, but she'd just smiled and said it was normal for some women. She didn't know that the father was the one fucking her every night, that the "supportive brother" who accompanied her to every appointment was also the one who'd put the baby there.

Now, looking at my daughter in Sarah's arms, I knew we'd created something beautiful out of our sin. Emma was perfect, healthy, with no signs of the incestuous conception that had created her. She'd never know that her uncle was her father, that her mother was also her aunt. We'd protect her from that truth, build a life of lies that would keep her safe and happy.

But as I watched Sarah guide our daughter to her breast, watched Emma's tiny mouth latch on and begin to suckle, I felt my cock stir in my pants. Even now, exhausted from labor, my sister was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. The mother of my child. My lover. My sin.

Sarah noticed my gaze and smiled, a secret, knowing smile that was just for me. "Later," she mouthed, her eyes dropping to the bulge in my jeans. "When she's asleep."

I nodded, my heart racing. We couldn't stop. Even now, with the evidence of our crime lying between us, we couldn't stop. The thought of fucking my sister while she breastfed our child should have repulsed me, but it only made me harder.

That night, after Emma was settled in her bassinet and the house was quiet, I found Sarah in our bedroom. She was wearing one of my t-shirts, her breasts still heavy with milk, her body already starting to recover from the birth. She looked like a fertility goddess, like something primal and ancient and mine.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hovering in the doorway. "The doctor said we should wait six weeks."

"I don't care what the doctor said," Sarah whispered, pulling me inside and locking the door. "I need you, Jason. I need my brother's cock inside me. It's been too long."

It had been three weeks since we'd last fucked, the longest we'd gone since that first night. I was desperate for her, my cock aching with need. I pushed her back onto the bed, pulling the t-shirt up to expose her breasts, already leaking milk from her arousal.

"Fuck," I groaned, taking one nipple into my mouth, tasting the sweet milk that was meant for our daughter. Sarah moaned, her hands in my hair, pulling me closer.

"Yes, suck them," she begged. "Drink from me, Jason. Take what's yours."

I sucked harder, drawing milk from her breast, swallowing it down as I pushed my hand between her legs. She was soaked, as always, ready for me. I pushed two fingers inside her, feeling how tight she was after the birth, how her body still remembered me.

"Please," she whimpered, grinding against my hand. "I need you inside me. I need to feel my brother's cock stretching me, filling me. Breed me again, Jason. Put another baby in me."

The words sent a shock of lust through me. Another baby. The thought of impregnating her again, of watching her swell with my child once more—it was too much. I tore off my clothes, my cock springing free, hard and ready. I positioned myself between her legs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance.

"Tell me what you want," I demanded, my voice rough with need.

"I want my brother to fuck me," she gasped, her eyes glazed with desire. "I want you to cum inside your sister's pussy and make me pregnant again. I want to be full of your seed always, Jason. Please, give me another baby. Our secret baby."

I thrust into her in one hard stroke, burying myself to the hilt. She cried out, her back arching, her breasts bouncing with the force of my entry. She was still so tight, so perfect, and the feel of her around me was heaven.

"Sarah," I groaned, starting to move, slow thrusts that built in speed and intensity. "You feel so fucking good. So wet for your brother. So ready to be bred."

"Yes," she moaned, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Breed me, Jason. Fill me with your cum. I want to be pregnant again as soon as possible. I want to always be carrying your child, your seed, your mark."

The dirty talk was driving me wild. I fucked her harder, pounding into her with abandon, the bed shaking beneath us, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the room. She was so wet, so hot, her pussy gripping my cock like it was made for me.

"Touch yourself," I commanded, watching her face flush with pleasure. "Rub your clit while I fuck you, sis. I want to feel you cum on my cock."

She obeyed, her hand sliding between us, her fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing in tight circles. Her breathing quickened, her moans becoming higher pitched, more desperate.

"Jason, I'm close," she panted, her hips bucking up to meet my thrusts. "Don't stop. Please don't stop. Make me cum on my brother's cock. Make me—oh god!"

She came with a scream that she muffled against my shoulder, her pussy clamping down on me so hard I saw stars. The rhythmic pulsing of her orgasm pushed me over the edge, and with a roar, I thrust deep and exploded, pumping my seed into her fertile womb once again.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, her hips grinding against mine, milking every drop from my cock. "Fill me up, Jason. Put another baby in me. I want to be so full of your cum."

I kept thrusting through my orgasm, my cock sensitive but still hard, still desperate for more of her. I rolled us over so she was on top, her pregnant-widened hips perfect for riding me, her breasts hanging heavy in my face.

"Again," she demanded, bouncing on my cock, her pussy still fluttering from her orgasm. "I need you to cum in me again. I need to be sure."

I gripped her hips, thrusting up into her, watching her tits bounce, watching the ecstasy on her face. She was insatiable, my sister, my lover, the mother of my child. And I was just as desperate for her.