Drunken Christmas with My Brothers

SUMMARY: This is a complete work of fiction. This story is told from the sister's POV (Teresa) as she gets rather drunk with her two older brothers on Christmas Eve, and the ensuing fun that comes from that after they spend the night in bed together.

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

STORY:

[part 01]

Laughter filled the room as my two older brothers joked with my parents. We were all sitting in the family room after having an extravagant Christmas Eve meal. My mom had prepared almost everything herself, except for the eggnog which was kind of my dad's specialty. It was thanks to said eggnog that everyone was laughing a little more than usual, spiked as it was with an ample amount of bourbon. And now it was time to open our traditional before-bed gift of a pair of warm, comfortable pajamas. Of course, things were a little different than they used to be. For starters, me and my brothers were all grown up. I was twenty-three years old. My oldest brother, Brayden, was twenty-eight and then there was Leighton who had just turned twenty-seven. We were visiting our parents for the holiday--a first in several years for all but myself.

This year had been a rather depressing year. In a way, I blame Leighton since he started the chain of events when he left his wife not long after last Christmas. Then at the beginning of the summer, we all got a group text from Brayden letting us know that he and his wife were separated. I felt so bad for my brothers. Right up until three months ago when my own husband dropped the bombshell on me that he wasn't in love with me anymore. He moved out of our apartment a few days later and I haven't heard from him since, other than some court paperwork that arrived in my mailbox a few weeks later. Thanks god we had never gotten pregnant. As it was, I was letting him do all the heavy work for filing and getting our divorce finalized since he was the one who wanted the divorce in the first place.

A little about me. My name is Teresa. I'm shorter than both of my brothers at 5'5". We all share similarities in our facial features, except for our hair. Where they both have varying degrees of sandy blonde hair, mine is red. Nobody in my family has red hair except me. Both my parents seemed baffled by that, since none of their immediate families had anyone with red hair. But I hear that sometimes happens. Red hair is a recessive trait and can often skip entire generations before showing up again. I keep my hair long enough to just reach my shoulder blades and it has a natural waviness to it. Brayden's is military short and Leighton's hangs down to his ears. Oh, and neither of my brothers is afflicted with the peppering of freckles on their faces like I have. But I don't mind.

I've never been overweight, which I'm thankful for. Both of my brothers are bulkier than me. Not "fat", by any means. They both work out, so it's mostly muscle. But the overall shape of their bodies is just a lot... fluffier than my own. I suppose I could thank whoever gave me the gene that sprouted my red hair for my seemingly robust metabolism. Probably that's also the reason why my tits never grew beyond B cups. But the rest of my body is all woman. From my wider hips and narrow waist, despite my only moderately sized breasts, I know I'm attractive.

The past few months have flown by for me, ever since my husband left. That's the main reason why I haven't started dating again yet, because I've been too busy. Well, that and I'm also just not ready to deal with the hassle of it. Which means, of course, that I haven't had sex in over three months. And believe me, that's a long time for me. I'm the kind of girl who likes to indulge multiple times a week, sometimes multiple times a day. My sexual appetite has always been extravagant. It's probably the reason I got married when I was eighteen.

And so, as it happened, when I showed up to my parents' house for Christmas, I was full of a somewhat natural "buzz". And by "buzz", I mean arousal. Yeah, I was fucking horny. And the eggnog wasn't doing a thing to diminish that. By eleven that night, we had finished most of the eggnog and everyone was clearly no longer sober. I wasn't exactly drunk, but I had a strong buzz for sure. My dad was most definitely intoxicated and when we noticed he had passed out in his recliner, my mom promptly announced it was time for bed and hauled him to his feet and then ushered him down the hall to their bedroom.

That left me alone with my two brothers. Drunk. And horny. I was sitting at one end of the couch while Brayden sat at the other end and Leighton sat in the second recliner in the room. None of us was talking anymore. My thoughts started to drift, and I suddenly found myself wondering if my brothers were as worked up as I was. Glancing over at Brayden, I frowned at him. When was the last time he got laid? It had been almost six months since he and his wife got separated. And for Leighton it had been almost a year! When I looked at him, he was grinning at the open air in front of him. It was a familiar grin and made me start to consider what exactly he was thinking about that made him smile like that all the time.

Brayden stood and my eyes followed him up. He looked at his brother and then to me and then said quietly, "I'm heading to bed." I watched him amble from the room into the kitchen where the door to the basement was. Both of my brothers' rooms had been repurposed since they moved out. Brayden's had become a mini "gym", while Leighton's room was now my mom's art studio. Luckily, the basement was finished and my parents had had the thought to move Brayden's big king bed down there so they would have a place to sleep when they visited. My brothers didn't mind sharing a bed. And when they used to come with their wives, they just setup a blowup mattress in the basement and all four of them slept down there together.

My room was still exactly the same as when I had moved out. Even the paisley walls and the collage of One Direction posters. Yep, it was still my old teenage bedroom. But I didn't mind, honestly. I only spent about a dozen days in it a year. When my husband would come with me in the past, we both just made do. I did have a full size bed, at least. Not as bad as squeezing onto a twin.

Brayden leaving seemed to sober the room slightly and, as I listened to my oldest brother clomping down the stairs, Leighton pushed himself out of his recliner and made his way to the basement stairs, too. He only stumbled once on the way. And that finally left me alone with my thoughts. I squirmed a little on the couch and briefly considered finding something saucy to watch on tv so I could masturbate. But the thought of getting caught by my parents was too much for me. I was twenty-three. Way too old to masturbate in the family room. Besides, I had a familiar pink and purple dildo waiting for me in my own room. The thought brought a smile to my face and a tingle to my crotch.

Fifteen minutes later, I climbed into my bed after digging through my suitcase to find my purple nighttime companion. I had already brushed my teeth, washed my face and changed into my new pajamas. They were made out of a silky material that felt extremely good against my bare skin. I wasn't wearing a bra or panties, of course. I rarely even wore them in my regular daytime clothes. Feeling excited (probably in part because of the rum), I shoved my pajama bottoms down a foot and then slid the dildo between my legs. It was cold against my clit, but I knew that would change quickly. Reaching my other hand down, I twisted the dial to turn the thing on.

Nothing happened.

What the fuck? Pulling it out from between my legs, I brought it closer to my face and looked at it. It was dark in my room, so I grabbed my phone and switched on the flashlight. Fumbling with the dildo for a few minutes, I couldn't get the damn thing to turn on at all. Finally, I opened the battery capsule and let them dump out into my hand. Two fat batteries stared up at me. They weren't the traditional AA or AAA batteries. These were bigger. Wider. Frowning at one of them, I spun it around with my fingers trying to figure out what it was called. With a growl, I dropped the batteries and the dildo on the bed beside me. I already knew it didn't matter. My dad didn't even stock regular batteries anymore. Everything comes with rechargeable batteries these days.

For the next ten minutes, I idly diddled my clit while I lay quietly in my bed. But no matter how good it felt to touch myself, it didn't get rid of my frustration. How could I have forgotten to get new batteries before I left? It was so irritating when I forgot something dumb like that. I wanted to scream! Instead, I forced myself to get out of bed. Maybe there was a chance. A long chance, but still. I had to at least check.

Padding my way softly down the hall to the kitchen, I started looking through the drawers. I checked the drawer where my dad used to keep batteries and for a split second, I felt a wave of excitement when I saw a Duracell package. But when I flipped it over, I saw that it was just AAA batteries, and there was only one left anyway. Damn it. Rifling through every drawer I could think of, my search ended in vain.

Until I opened a cabinet and found myself staring at a glistening glass bottle. Oh! My dad had a fifth of fireball whiskey! And it was almost full! Memories flooded my head, and I started grinning again. The last time I had drank fireball was with my brothers, three years ago. I was only twenty at the time, but they knew a guy who worked at a bar. Plus, I was a pretty girl. That probably would have gotten me all I could drink anyway, but I let my brothers think they had somehow duped the system. It was a fun, drunken night.

Practically clapping with excitement, I found three shot glasses in another cupboard, grabbed those and the bottle of liquor and headed to the basement. Descending the stairs, I didn't make any noise at all. I had learned where all the creaky steps were years ago. Halfway down, I heard the sounds of my brothers' voices. They were still up. Yay! When I rounded the corner, I looked over at the bed they were sharing. Brayden was lying down, the covers pulled halfway up his chest. His naked chest. Oh my. He was more muscular than the last time I saw him shirtless a few years ago when we all went camping together. His face was lit up by his phone which he was staring at. I could only see the one hand that was holding his phone. What was he doing with his other hand? I almost laughed at the thought that he might be masturbating right next to his brother.

Leighton was also shirtless, but I could see his entire torso. His legs were hidden under the blanket, and he was sitting up with his back leaning against his pillows. He also had his attention on his phone. They were talking to each other at the same time. Boys were weird. Any time I was with one of my girlfriends, we had an unspoken agreement that our phones were hands off while we were together, unless it was an emergency.

Stepping right up to the foot of their bed, both brothers looked at me at the same time. I was holding the whiskey and glasses behind my back, but I couldn't help the grin that split my face in two.

"Hi," I said softly.

[part 02]

"Uh, what's up?" Leighton asked. He glanced at his brother and I saw Brayden shrug.

Then, with a flourish, I swung my arm around, exhibiting the beautiful, golden bottle of liquor to the two shirtless males. Leighton started grinning immediately, sitting up a little more in bed. "Fuck yeah!" he said. When I swung my other arm around, brandishing the three shot glasses, even Brayden sat up more on his side of the bed. He was frowning at what I held in my hands.

Jumping onto the bed, I tossed the three shot glasses into the middle of it. They rolled together with a double clink and then clinked again as I made myself comfortable at the foot of the mattress. Holding up the bottle of whiskey, I waggled it and asked, "You guys wanna do some shots?"

Leighton grabbed one of the shot glasses and crawled toward me, holding it before him. Grinning, I opened the bottle and poured him a shot. Some of it spilled on the bed, but nobody said anything. Brayden didn't move but was still staring at what I was doing. So I grabbed a second glass and poured him a shot. When I extended my arm toward him, he took it and held it reverently while I poured the third shot for myself.

"To my shirtless bros!" I said stupidly. Brayden rolled his eyes and Leighton grinned. Then we all three took our first of many shots.

An hour later, only a quarter of the bottle remained. My throat was on fire. It wasn't called "fireball" for nothing. Of course, it was just cinnamon flavor. But mixed with the whiskey, that shit really did a number on your throat! But my buzz was so strong, I truly didn't care. I had stolen one pillow from each of my brothers, lying on my back with one knee up and the other leg resting across it. I was staring up at the ceiling, even though I could barely see it. The lighting wasn't very good in my parents' basement.

Brayden was quiet and sullen and had gone back to browsing something on his phone. Maybe it was porn, for all I knew. But I didn't ask. Leighton and I chatted, but not about anything important. It was mainly drunken chatter at that point. I didn't mind. I was pleasantly buzzing, my body feeling warm and cozy. The silky pajamas were touching me everywhere at once, including my very sensitive nipples. I knew they were probably visible through my shirt, but I didn't give a shit. Too drunk to care. As for my arousal? It was at least ten times stronger than it had been earlier. Maybe it was the result of hanging out with my two sexy brothers. Neither of them had bothered putting a shirt on the entire time, much to my delight. I kept stealing glances at their bare chests, trying to avoid being caught doing it. A pleasant tingle was circling my pussy and had been since right after my first shot. It was making me horn--

"Fuck, I'm horny," Leighton suddenly announced to the entire room, not actually looking at anyone. When I looked at him, he was staring up at the ceiling like I had been.

"What the fuck, dude?" Brayden said and my face swung toward his just as he turned toward me.

Leighton had no compunction, apparently. "What?" he asked. "We're family. I can be myself here. Can't I?" For some reason, he glanced at me when he asked that last question.

Shrugging, I tried to diffuse the tension by saying casually, "I don't care. I'm horny, too."

Silence filled the room. The quiet was so fucking loud, I swear my decibel tracker on my smart watch was about to go off. Slowly raising my head, I found myself staring at Brayden. His eyes were wide as he stared back at me. Then I looked at my other brother. He was grinning, of course. When he saw me look at him, he shrugged and then said quietly, "Well shit."

Nobody said anything else after that, so I decided to pour another round of shots. Not that I needed more. But I figured it might take the edge off the discomfort that had befallen our little trio. When everyone had their shot in hand, Leighton said, "Ok, this time, right before you take your shot, you gotta tell us something nobody knows about you."

"Like what?" I asked, frowning.

He shrugged and said, "I dunno. Something kinky that you've done. Ok?"

I nodded immediately, squirming a little as I started thinking about what I was going to admit to my brothers. Brayden didn't say anything until we both stared him down and then he finally shrugged and mumbled, "Fine."

"Sweet," Leighton said. Then he lifted his shot to his mouth.

"Hey!" I said and he froze with the glass still pressed against his lips. "You gotta tell your secret first."

Leighton grinned, lowering his glass. He glanced at his brother and then back toward me and then said nonchalantly, "Me and Brayden tag teamed a girl once." Then he promptly tipped the glass up and downed the whiskey.

Meanwhile, my mouth was hanging open. I turned toward his older brother, assuming I would find him calling out the story as a lie. But the look on Brayden's face told me it was no lie. Holy shit! "Seriously??" I asked, incredulous. He looked away from me and I saw color rising up his cheeks. Yeah, seriously. "OH MY GOD!" I cried out as my face exploded with mirth. I wasn't really laughing, though. But then, something much more urgent started punching me in the stomach. My bladder.

With a yelp, I hopped up off the bed, vaulting to the floor. Then I yelled over my shoulder, "Ok! First, I gotta pee! Second! MORE SHOTS! And then--" I was halfway up the stairs by this point--"DETAILS!" I skipped every second step on my way up.

By the time I finished relieving myself and then practically gliding down the stairs without touching any of them on the way back, a whopping thirty-eight seconds had gone by. Way too long. Landing on their bed with a humph, I said, out of breath, "Now, details!"

Leighton handed my shot glass back to me while I tried to catch my breath. He must have had another shot while I was gone because the bottle had less than a quarter left, I noted. Not that I needed any more, but I had seen another bottle of something or other in that cupboard upstairs. In case of emergency.

And then everyone turned their focus on poor Brayden. He shriveled at the attention, clinging to the miniscule glass in his hand. For a second, he looked like a giant holding a cup of coffee. Well, very watered-down coffee anyway. For some reason, I found myself comparing the color of whiskey to coffee. I was pretty sure if you brewed a ten cup pot of coffee with a single scoop of coffee grounds, it would look just like that. Maybe comparing it to tea was a better idea. I started giggling for no reason at all, which then turned to an outright guffaw of laughter. But I sobered myself forcibly from the inside and made my face go blank. Oh boy was I drunk.

"Your turn, dude," Leighton told his older brother, holding his shot glass up in a salute. Like we were at a freaking frat party.

But Brayden took the bait, bless his soul! He closed his eyes briefly but then seemed to steel himself, straightening and pulling himself a little more upright where he sat. He looked back and forth between his brother and me and then he inhaled deeply before blurting out, "I ate her out while she blew him." He nodded toward Leighton so I knew who "him" was. Duh. Then he downed his shot.

"Holy fucking crap, dude!" I exclaimed, unable to keep it in. I almost downed my shot at hearing the admission. My own pussy was literally throbbing with pleasure. I desperately wanted to touch myself. Right there. In front of my fucking brothers. Get a grip in yourself, Teresa! God damn this night was hot! Struggling to catch my breath, I asked in a raspy voice, "And then what??" I guess I was staring at Leighton, though. He seemed to be more willing to participate in this game. Or maybe I just assumed he would give more juicy details. Unfortunately, he raised my call. Like we were playing a game of cards!

"Nah uh uh, sis," he admonished me, waggling his shot glass in front of him. Then he added, "It's your turn. One kinky fact about you. GO!"

For the love of all that was holy and good in the world. The bastard. Oddly, I was grinning at him. At both of them, really. When I swung my head back and forth between my two brothers, the background seemed to move in slow motion. Oh boy. Raising my shot to my face, I held it a few inches in front of my mouth, taking several deep breaths while I tried to collect myself. Then I confessed, "The first time I had sex was on mom and dad's bed." The glass collided with my lips and I tilted it back, dumping most of the alcohol into my mouth. The rest spilled down my chin and dribbled onto my pajama top.