My wife, the doll that she is, says to me she needs a Fryecest fic of Jacob masturbating. I, being the kind of wife that likes to oblige, wrote it.
Everything is under the cut because it jumps right in.
TW: oral, incest, masturbation, intoxication, public, nsfw
You’ve been warned. If you’re still around, enjoy!
Figment
By the time Jacob Frye gets to a pub in Southwark after finishing business in Westminster he’s thought of Evie no less than twenty-three times – not that he’s counting or anything – all with varying degrees of romance. From soft, stolen kisses in the dark to the imaginary feel of thick thighs gripping his hips and muffled moans vibrating his neck, he’s thought of them all, for sure. It’s all maddening, really.
He thinks that a pint per perverted thought might take the edge off. The fourth pint sees that he’s certainly more loose and he almost giggles at the absurdity of having such unnatural thoughts about his twin sister. With the ninth come and gone, he’s lost all hope in washing them away and embraces each mental scenario with a lopsided smirk and clouded eyes.
After the thirteenth he manages to wobble one foot in front of the other down the dirty streets. He ignores the jeers and stares from the other late-night lurkers, mostly because he can’t hear them over the sound of his invisible Evie whispering his name against the shell of his ear. An involuntary shiver races along his spine and he stumbles into a crowd of Rooks who quickly right him while they have a laugh at his expense. Inwardly, he laughs too, but not because of his own drunken stupor.
Jacob assures them – despite their protesting – that he’s fine to escort himself back to his train. A lie, really, since he’s hardly able to tell up from down, much less north or south. He does the next logical thing and listens for a train, or he tries to. Imaginary Evie is still in his ear, but now she’s giggling – and oh, if that isn’t a pleasing sound, he doesn’t know what is. As to what she’s giggling about, he thinks is the way he’s dragging blunt nails along the small of her back, the only spot on her entire body where she’s even a little ticklish, ever-so-slightly.
If he’s been keeping count, he’s forgotten how many steps and how long it’s been since he’s left, but he finds himself along the train track nonetheless. Something in the back of his mind tells him that this isn’t a good idea, but any concern is quickly tossed aside when he finds the cool, metal side of an abandoned train car. It feels nice against his palms, and even better against his forehead. No sooner does he shut his eyes does his Imaginary Evie appear before him, a devilish smirk on her lips. Her hair, long and wavy from her undone braids, frames her flush face, and her eyes, those gorgeous, sea-colored eyes, are dark with desire as she presses her nude body to him.
A string of swears rumble in his throat and he’s only mildly aware that he’s fumbling to free his cock, long since hard and desperate to be touched. When he finally manages to defeat its confines he groans, his palm immediately gripping it tight and stroking in languid motions. He barely has the mind to plant his feet as firmly as he can muster, which given his state, isn’t much.
Imaginary Evie is giggling again and Jacob can feel it lightly shake her breasts as she pushes them lightly against his chest. He wants to cup them and roll her nipples beneath the pads of his thumbs. He wants to take each one between his teeth, make her shiver, and give her gooseflesh.
“What are you on about?” Jacob asks her, and Imaginary Evie only smirks in response. Palms much more soft than his own glide down the expanse of his chest and torso, her intense gaze holding him as she sinks to her knees. Plush lips, swollen from kisses and adoring nips tease the tip of his cock and his breath catches as his fingers drag through the precum that’s trailing down his length.
The noise that spills from his lips is almost primal when Imaginary Evie takes him into her mouth and sucks. At first she’s slow, tasting him experimentally and blushing when she discovers she likes how he feels on her tongue, and then quickens her pace, sucking in long, hasty bobs of her head.
He should feel guilty, Jacob thinks, for imagining his sister so lewdly, as though she’s nothing more than a cheap harlot looking for a good fuck and a shiny shilling. Parts of him feel remorse, but he’s so far gone, high on the heat that’s rushing through his veins as his strokes grow more urgent. His breath becomes rapid and his limbs shake in anticipation until her name tears from his throat and his semen splatters on the side of the train car despite Imaginary Evie drinking every last drop.
Jacob sinks to his knees, spent. Images of Evie linger, but the longer her kneels and watches his come drip down the rusted green metal, the more the lewd thoughts become gentle, lovely even. She kisses his hair and nuzzles his cheek in a way that makes him blush more than the thought of her swallowing him whole again. Although he’s far from sober, he has the decency to tuck himself away again and feel a twinge of shame for wanting Evie the way a brother never should. He stands and rights himself, taking several shaky steps away from his abandoned desire, and yet another secret he’ll keep to himself.
