Peter Pan and Me

PETER PAN AND ME 41

OH MY GOD! He is so HOT!

At the time, it was not known to us that Neverland was being raided by
Vikings, who wanted fresh slaves, fresh resources, and general mayhem,
which was set for a further more global target. Also unknown to us, a
giant snake, the name of Bendar, was crawling along the floor and moving
silently up at us. Peter and I had attended a fairy marriage where I
presented the garland gay to the groom.. It's not like what it sounds.
Anyway, spent from a night of eating, dancing, having been shrunken and
restored to our regular sizes, we rested in a niche on the wall of King
Kong's...yeah, that's right you heard it correctly---the kindly, very
hospitable King Kong and family---King Kong's castle.

Peter was all over me, lifting me up, above me, horizontally, bending me,
and making me really, really hard, hot, and sweaty. I was pre cumming and
I wondered if Peter knew what he was doing to me. He was getting overly
huge too ---I could feel it between us as I have in the past but this
time...I thought I felt wetness too. Had Peter matured. Certainly I no
longer felt 11 years old and I thought Peter looked more like 15 or 16
now. He must have some kind of...of bodily functions going on...and right
now I was too in tuned to MY bodily functions to caress...caress...oh
yeah, Peter caress me like you are right now....

Peter's snake was rising and rising and rising and coming out of the
leaves. Did he know? It was nearing my now bare...

Bendar crawled along the crags and cracks of the rock wall, making its
way steadily toward us, knowing we were there, ready to please his belly.
The head rose up at the hole, parting the satin purple curtains there and
the huge jaws opened, ready to swallow Peter and I whole....the snake
crawled for the hole...

I had my hands on Peter's muscled smooth back. I felt compelled to move
my hand to his...you know. "Oh, T'is like a snake...." I blew out my
mouth as I also murmured while I closed my eyes and gripped and jerked.
It was just short of being a loving hiss.

"OHHHHHH!" Peter jumped. He had turned and saw the huge fangs of the
giant rattler snake. For a moment I think he believed we had been
shrunken again but King Kong and everything in this area of Kensington
Gardens was in some sort of giant fairy land, Skull Island I think. Not
sure. Anyway, Peter turned to see the snake's face. He jumped, let me go,
my hand slipping right off his penis. I fell off the cotton ball bed and
landed on my butt and right side. That was the impetus for my expulsion
of a thick load of cum. It unloaded all over my denim cut offs and sort
of hung there in clumps, like a water balloon. I landed and got mad.

"Peter! What the..." But my dickhead was so burning with fiery love and
leaking lovely man juice, I couldn't stay mad.

Peter grabbed a ball of cotton, further making me fall off what little
cotton I had under me, and he shoved it into the maw of the snake, the
mouth of which had filled the entrance circumference. It moved back a bit
but it's head was still very much the only view from our "room".

Peter, for his part, pulled his leaves on, quickly, jumped out the hole
exit and I would swear as his feet pounced on the nose of the giant snake
that I heard some kind of strange cartoon-like sound effect like BOMP or
BEEP or something. Peter even said something like, "Ding Dong" or "Beep
Beep" or both. He half flew, half slid up the snake's head and down its
slimy back, "WEEEE! WHOA WHOOOOO! Great ride!" He had that butterfly
effect in his stomach but even though this boy who knew countless stomach
flopping causing moves in the air and even outer space or under the sea,
it was like a new joy to him. He was such a child. At heart. He slid
along the snake's body and rode it like a slide into a pool but as he
reached the end of the snake tail, he yelled, "Whoa, road closed
ahead!!!! Hahahahaha!" He grabbed onto the tail and held it and it
swung, with him on it!

The snake turned to eat this bite sized bite---Peter---so I grabbed a
hand full of dirt from the wall and a few rocks came with it--and threw
it at the snake head. The thing looked right in at me, taking its face
away from Peter's nose--to almost come nose to nose with me. The eyes
were so close. And this cum in my shorts was making me uncomfortable
physically. I reached in, instinctively and grabbed a palm full of it and
tossed it at the eyes of the snake, yelling in fear and war panic. The
loads hit the snake square between the eyes. Before I could say,
"Missed," the cum split and made a wide parting. There was enough to
splatter into both eyes and I yelled as I did it. This made the snake
unable to see for a few minutes. It blinked and coiled backward. But I
think it also made it much more dangerous as now it was desperate and
blinded. It struck at the cave hole and nearly forced it's face in,
getting lucky or going on instinct. I didn't care which, for the cave
shook, rocks came tumbling in from the exit and a few hit my foot but the
pain didn't really hurt that much. Dirt came off the roof. I fell.

Getting up, I found Peter's sword...his metal one!---not the one you were
thinking about, waited for the leathery skin of the snake to move out of
the way and give me an open spot, and threw it down to Peter, "Peter,
catch!"

Peter flying up, caught the sword by the hilt in the most dramatic way
possible, like at the last second or something and he turned his body
quite dramatically too. He then flew to the tail, nailing the snake to
the marble floor! The snake hissed and screamed. It reared up and back
toward its own tail.

Laughing Peter just barely avoiding its snapping jaw and screamed up to
me, "The other one!"

Hearing him, the snake took a nose dive for him and he flew up out of the
way, bounced a foot on its head and took off again.

I found his other sword and hesitated before I threw it, "Oh, Peter do
you really have to kill it?"

Peter air dodged the blind snake's head as it reared to find him and used
the sound of his voice to do so. "Just throw, Chase, throw! Throw for
your life!"

"So melodramatic." I finally threw the sword to Peter and Peter back
handed the sword for an extensive swing to the neck of the snake. I shut
my eyes but opened one back up. "Peter! Do you really have to slay it?"

Peter stopped. He waved a free hand in disgust. "Ahhh, you ruin all the
fun!"

"But...but it's just hungry. How do we get rid of it?"

"You tell me! You're the one who...hey, how about you eat it like you did
that chicken at the wedding."

"Peter, let that go, will you?" A huge hand came down and picked up the
snake by the neck and held the head. It was King Kong. "Oh thank you!" I
called up to him. The tail was still nailed to the marble floor.

"He is just hungry," King Kong sent to my mind telepathically.

"But where were your cows and sheep? Why did he go for us and not them?"

"They are away in their night rooms."

"How'd he get in?"

"He didn't. He's my son Kiko's."

"Oh."

"Is he poisonous?" Peter exclaimed, hoping it to be so.

"No."

Peter's face fell. He went to his sword at the tail. "Oh, uhm, sorry
about that," he said and really didn't sound sorry. Or rather he was
sorry but more sorry that the adventure was over and the danger past. And
that the snake was not poisonous. He did so love danger and near death.

"No problem," Kong sent telepathically, although to Peter he said it in
ape talk. Ape talk was something Peter understood, the little savage.
"It's his own fault. He will heal. He should not have sneaked out of his
cage."

"Oh but let me!" I jumped out the hole and slowly descended down like
friggin Mary Poppins but without the umbrella. I loved umbrellas. Poppins
used one. John Steed in the Avengers TV series used one and in the New
Avengers, I think. Of course, villains like the Penguin used them too.
And those six old people in that awful horror movie HOMEBODIES, they used
an umbrella to stab a social worker who was going to shut down their
apartment complex and evict them. Can you believe it! They killed people,
the old geezers. Peter should never see that movie--not that he could sit
still for a movie--a story maybe. A movie? I would love to try him on
one. Or one on him.

Anyway, I should get on with the boring stuff and tell you that I healed
the snake's tail after landing. I went to remove Peter's sword from the
taut tail, which was suspended between Kong's hands and the nailed marble
floor.

"Uhm, no." Peter said simply and moved me out of the way by gently
brushing his knuckles against my chest and moving me out of the way. In
dramatic grandiose style, Peter removed his sword from the snake tail. I
immediately ran to it and put my hands on it. I was tired so it took a
long time to heal the snake. I think King Kong was getting impatient and
as for King Peter, he was always impatient when adventures just ended.

Kiko came up to the area and took the snake, "Sorry, papa."

"Oh boy," I said, "That's his pet?" I flew back up to the cave hole so I
could see Kong's face as I spoke.

"Yes." Kong made a snarling face at Kiko who put the snake's face up to
his and rubbed. The snake licked him on the cheek. Kong smiled at Kiko,
not able to keep a stern face at his child.

This too upset Peter, for he would never know a son---or so he thought.
Or rather didn't think about. Peter flew back up to me and I pulled hard
by his sides, one hand on each deltoid. He looked sad. "Oh Peter, it was
a great move you made.

Peter brightened, "Ohhh, it was, wasn't it!"

"Yeah!" I said, trying to sound as excited as he while the gorillas
stomped off . "Let's get some sleep now, okay?"

"Okay."

Much later that night..while I did get some rest...I was not destined to
get a good night's sleep, Peter was crying. He was bending on his face on
his knees and his hands were over his face at times and at times wrapped
around his legs as he sobbed uncontrollably into them and on them. I
leaned on the cotton bed, thinking, at first, he was teasing me. Then I
realized he was not. I looked over the bed side. Should I interfere? Of
course it might have been one of his nightmarish dreams, the ones that
upset him so but this time, he seemed awake and more aware of what was
going on. I looked at him, getting out of bed and leaning down, bending
over and getting on my knees, "Boy, why are you crying?"

"Because, I just..." his voice broke and he started crying again, "It's
just...uh....uh..." He whimpered again. I thought it amusing in a way
that Peter was this great swordsmen, a boy who knew magic to some extent,
and a killer of pirates and gladiators, a leader of Lost Boys and ally of
savage Indians, a master of almost all forms of martial arts and here he
was, on the floor, crying like a little....child. "I just realized that I
was a bird..."

"Peter, you've known that..."

"No, I not finish. And birds..." He put his hands on his face again and
then his arms over his eyes.

I removed his arms, "Pe..."

"And birds fly. But Penguins are birds too and they cannot fly!" He
bellowed into his arms and cried again.

"Peter, you have fairy dust with you?" I knew he did.

"Yeah, so what's that got to..."

"Yeah," I said as I realized that he began to think the same thing I was
thinking. Peter stopped crying, like right away, stood up and began to
strap on his swords, and his bag of fairy dust. I was puzzled, "What?
What are you doing? Where?"

"C'mon, we have to find Penguins!"

"What?!! NOW???"

"Yup!"

"Oh dear."

So now we're off to Find Penguins to give them the power of flight, at
least for a short time, just so that they could enjoy it for a time and
then go back to their normal lives. It was Peter's way. Just my luck that
there are 18 species of penguins, found in South Australia, New Zealand,
and off the coasts of Peru, Chile, and South Africa. Some species live as
far north as the equatorial Galapagos Islands, but they are primarily
cold-weather birds. There are seven species of Antarctic penguins: the
Adelie, Gentoo, Macaroni, Chinstrap, Rockhopper, King, and Emperor. We
found them all. How I longed to go home, to Neverland. In return, they
taught Peter to porpoise. They are the only bird to "porpoise." That is
to say, they launch themselves out of the water, momentarily flying in
fluid arches as they continue to swim forward at high speeds like
dolphins. Penguins do this in order to breathe, but porpoising also
creates air bubbles that reduce friction during swimming. Gentoo penguins
are thought to be the fastest of all swimming birds, achieving speeds of
thirteen to seventeen miles per hour. Peter absorbed this all in and
practiced and laughed. Home, how I long to be home. Home. Where I wanted
to be. Peter, I'm tired. But it was marvelous seeing all those places.

While we were doing this, Tyler found that he could open a portal back
to Neverland. To do this, for he could not do it on his own, he needed
the help of one of the fairy folk. He knew about fairies and they liked
him, for they knew the confusion in his heart and some of the more
mischievous ones liked using him, for they never knew when that confusion
would serve them in their pranks and nasty ways. They found him laying
and sitting against a tree, tears drying on his eyes and sobbing still in
his throat. He was more asleep than awake and dreamt of times with Peter
and myself, as well as Legolas. The fairies that passed by on their way
home from the wedding, passed over his long slender legs and some tweaked
his nose as they passed over that way. But the last one, a rather nasty
piece of work called Alex, decided to wake him up and so went under his
tunic and used both feet to stamp into his navel. Tyler awoke with a
start and Alex yelled and came out from the bottom of the tunic, yelling
and cursing at Tyler, who was, of course, immediately taken by this new
comer.

To make a long story short or a short story long, Tyler was taken by Alex
and Alex decided to use that. He helped Tyler using fairy magic and
opened a portal. Tyler and Alex both stepped through and were whisked to
Neverland, where they arrived long before us.

While this was happening, Graham had his captain, severely wounded by a
very young Indian brave warrior, brought back to the huge ship and placed
in a bunk not the captain's own. As the captain was being brought in by
two other Vikings, Graham saw a lanky, lean, blond boy in the wooden
hallway. The boy had a torso that was almost as long as his long muscled
legs. The boy was hairless on his body but he had long bright flowing
blond hair on his head and his big green eyes widened in terror. "That's
Captain Acun!"

"Stay out of the way, son," Graham told him.

The boy, Scen, came forward, "Why aren't you bringing him into his own
cabin, father?"

"I said stay out of the way, Scen," Graham brushed him aside with one arm
but Scen was not brushed easily and didn't move that far in the hallway.
Graham hit him harder.

Scen shut his eyes as his back hit the wall. "Why?"

"I will make a man out of you yet, Scen. My father had me hunting and
gathering food at the age of 6."

"But I'm not 6."

"No, you are close to 16, my son and still you act as a female. Healing.
Medicine. Letting the wounded live. You've not even taken a life."

"We've talked about this before. I believe in life," Scen said, holding
his chin high.

"I do too but only if it is worth living as a man and not some...."
Acun gasped inside. Graham turned from Scen's worried look to the
cabin, "We shall finish this talk later and I shall make you a man."


Scen wondered how that was going to happen. He was more worried about the
captain however.

Acun gasped, as he was laid on the wooly rug covered bunk in a smaller
cabin than his own. The arrow was still in his gut. Graham ordered the
two Vikings to take off the man's armor and they did. They were not
gentle about it and this caused Acun greater pain as the arrow moved
around while the two brutes manhandled him to get off the armor crotch
covering and armor chest covering. Graham thought that the captain should
not wear armor but be manly and brave the possibility of getting stabbed
or run through without the armor. Graham had to make it look like he
cared, "Has the young savage that shot our good captain, been slain yet?"

"No," a third Viking pushed past Scen. He was named Strang. "He and his
kin that survived made it into the woods and we cannot find them. There
is, however, another tribe, it seems on the other side of the lake."

"Another tribe of these primitives?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take it out." Acun coughed. Blood was on his lips.

The two Viking men finished, came to look at Graham and they shook their
heads negatively as though to say this Captain would not last long. He
was not a hated captain. The men liked him in fact. Graham went over to
the captain's body and grasped the arrow. Strang came closer and put his
hand on Graham's arm, "No, as next captain...you cannot bloody your hands
on the old one..."

Scen was looking in as the other two Vikings moved past him, leaving.
"Next captain?"

"I understand." Graham looked at Strang.

Strang gripped the arrow and with only one hand. With his other, he held
the chest of Acun and tore the arrow out. Acun jerked upward and gasped.
He fell back onto the bed after convulsing upward a great deal. "He shall
take a long time to die I think."

"Should we just...?"

"I do not know." Strang said.

"I cannot order such a thing. I do not want the men to think..."

Acun gasped, "Let me just die on my own time..."

Graham looked visibly upset at this. Acun gasped and it would not be as
long as Strang thought before the old captain died from his belly arrow
wound.

Scen grew upset by all this. He was sensitive and kind. He did not like
anything to suffer, let alone a captain that was good to him. Acun always
tried to talk to Graham, Scen's father. Acun convinced him not to be as
hard on Scen as Graham wanted to be. Graham would have probably killed
Scen if it had not been for Acun. Acun thought Graham his friend but
Graham seemed to only want his experience and advice on how to be captain
of his own sailing vessel. Now, it looked like Graham would get his wish,
Scen would be left to his father's devices and be made a man, and Acun
would die ,a slow and painful death. Scen shook his head and moved
forward, "Father, perhaps I shall try the herbs and..."

Graham yelled, "Be gone, fair one. Before I forget my desire to have a
son who is a man and outright..."

Acun coughed, "Leave him be, Graham. He is your son. And there are those
among us that are like he, brave in other ways. They...." He struggled
as Strang held the wound with both hands, getting blood on his. Acun
coughed and his eyes rolled. But he came to and said, "They...they serve
purposes."

"Bah, cooking, sewing, gathering wool and fire wood, herbs that cannot
heal such wounds...it's all a female's work!"

Acun bent his head up and tried to sit up and gasped in pain. "Not all.
There are others, male who are like your son. They have a place among us.
Just as there are females, daughters who are gallant warriors and Viking
traders as we."

"Bah. The females are not as good as we..but you need to rest..."

"Rest..." Acun laid his head back. He shut his eyes, "We all have
our...place...even the dying..."

"He is." Strang said, "Dying. And that leaves you...in charge, Captain
Graham."

Graham tried to hide his feelings. Scen had taken from his pouch around
his waist, some herbs and put them on the wound as Strang released it.
The blood flow began to stop. Scen smiled at his father, who looked at
him with anger. Scen's smile dropped. Graham looked at Strang, "Get him
out of here," he said in a whisper.

"C'mon, out, son," Strang said.

Scen allowed Strang to usher him physically out. Once up above, he jumped
off the side of the ship and swam to the shore. He walked along it,
taking off all his clothes and revealing a lithe, lean, tall body with
lanky legs, smooth and shiny. He passed a pit and glanced inside. There
he saw Indian bodies and he was appalled. He lost his breath. He heard
two Vikings approaching, complaining about burial duty, hauling shovels
to the spot. Scen turned and ran. He couldn't believe his father's
bloodthirsty ways. The way that his father wanted him to accept and
embrace and enact in. Scen gulped and turned and ran and ran and ran. He
wasn't sure which way he should run but he ran blindly. He ploughed
through foliage, unaware that an Indian arrow had been trained on him
just moments before. He fell and tumbled down a steep hill into the lake.
He splashed into it and his sobs were lost under the lake. He stood up.
The water was not deep. He swam to where it was deeper and then on the
other side, past some hillsides of foliage, he spotted a shiny white
waterfall. He swam over to it and began to bathe under it. Tyler watched
Scen bathe. He was wandering in the woods again, not something a young
prince should do, but here he was, his eyes caught by the sight of Scen.
It was then that he fell in love with the boy. His eyes roved over Scen's
bright blond hair, up to his forehead, enjoying. Scen enjoyed the water
splashing there and dripping down his face, his manly neck and broad
shoulders, dripping down the front of his smooth chest where his nipples
were square pegs under the cool water. He rubbed the water all over his
body, his underarms, which were hairless, his belly, water splonked in
and out of his navel and splashed to the nether regions. It was at this
point, that his love, Tyler's love, grew to such a great passion, that
was lost total control of his somewhat limited morality...and it would
spell disaster for him, Scen, Peter, and myself...and cost us the lives
of at least two lost boys...


The play Peter Pan and its characters are trademarks of and copyright
J.M.Barrie.