Peter Pan and Me

Another day:
Je'ne landed back at the watch spot. "Peter, they're building it. A giant
spear or arrow or something...?"
"Good, then tonight, I shall find out what it is they intend to do with it
and perhaps, just perhaps, I shall follow their men to the hostages..."
"The birds know where they are..." Landen nodded, putting down the
telescope, "They've already told me..."
"Landen, that would be cheatin' besides, I shall be the one to find them,
not you."
Landen shrugged, "But lives could be saved if..."
"Tut tut," Peter said, "Tut tut," he smacked Landen's hand on the back of
it and smiled. Landen shrugged and rubbed his hand.
"We can be there far before any back up could arrive," Aoi sneered.
"Then to make it fair play, I shall do it on my belly..." Peter puffed.
Landen sighed as Aoi and Je'ne gasped in awe of Peter.
"Damned near silly if'n you ask me," Landen exclaimed.
Peter smacked him across the face, enough to make it red on one side. "What
for you may ask?"
"Waaaa for?"
"Use of the word damned. Adult word."
"But I've heard you and Chase and Rollin..."
Lighter smack.
"Oh sorry, Peter."
Peter smacked him across the face...but not hard.
"What was that one for?"
"Calling my plan silly in the first place, sir. Them's fightin words."
Landen smiled at Peter, "Thank you Peter..."
"What for?"
"Making me see the error of my ways."
"What's an error?" Aoi asked.
"It..." Sole came upon them, "It...an era is a time frame."
"What does time need a frame for? Like a window?" Aoi asked.
"No, that's silly," Landen said, "An error is a mistake."
"Did you just make one of those?" Sole asked.
"I don't think so," Landen said, "But Peter did."
Peter smacked Landen again. "Ow."
"I meant you made one out, as in found it out, discovered it, so you...
actually I think your plan..."
Peter yelled, "What about my plan?"
"It's marvelous," Landen put his chin up. Peter rubbed it. And rubbed the
sore cheek he just smacked.
I came upon them along with Rollin behind me, "Your plan sucks. And not in a
good way."
Peter tried to smack me but I grabbed his forearm, "I think not. Here's
what I think we should do."
In the end, we agreed upon a plan that was a combination of mine and Peter'
s. Peter actually thought that was fair play.
I wanted to collaborate with the birds but Walden had scared them all off. "
Damn it, falcon, I need to get info from them." The bird was on my
shoulder. It nudged my left cheek. It began to communicate with me, as it often had
since leaving Graham's side. It told me things.
That night:
"It's ready," A Viking told Graham, "The others are at the ship, ready
to leave."
"Cowards! They fear Pan!"
"I didn't notice you staying at the Indian Village," the Viking said.
Graham cut him down with his sword and the Viking sank to the ground, dying
slowly, his stomach out his back on the sword Graham just used to penetrate his
lower torso.
"No, but you shall stay in their woods..." Graham leaned in on the Viking
body, "...FOREVER!"
He turned to another Viking, "You! Go tell the men at the tree house to
leave the zombies on guard. Those Valkeryies will serve me and if not, the
zombies will have their children for breakfast, lunch and dinner!" The Viking
just stared at him. "GO! Or does thee want to end up the same sack of meat as
thy comrade there?"
The Viking moved off to go warn the tree house. On his belly, watching,
Peter crawled after him. "Oh the pleasures of me." He clanged a bit as he
carried two swords, 5 knives, 3 tomahawks, and various other weapons. Graham
turned, savagely, spit coming from his mouth, toward the noise. It was then Peter
saw the object Graham had been working on. A gigantic arrow complete with
launcher. "For me, I'm honored but thy shall have to wait, mad one. I have more
..." He felt one of the knives dislodge and press on his belly button. "...
pressing needs..." He moved the knife right again and realized the Viking he
was supposed to follow was getting away. He stood up, making more noise than
the LITTLE RASCALS' Spanky when he dressed up as Caesar in a play. Graham's
eyebrow went up and he hid behind a tree. Then he moved off, not seeing the
Valkeryie.
Being held in chains was a Valkeryie named Saca, the blond woman. Graham
pulled her up, "You. You will fly me to the tree house. And once there, you will
be able to see your children. And if you try anything, it will be the final
time you see any of them or they you. Understood?"
She nodded and then the Valkeryie was released from her chains but Graham
had a knife at her throat. She laid down and he laid on her back and she took
off.
I lifted off the moonlit grove. I had to tell Peter what I new, this new
information was most telling. He would need to know this.
I found the bare back glistening in the moonlight. I wondered how it was
nothing else found him. Stealth? Peter being quiet? For a moment as I hovered
overhead, amid the bushy tops of various trees, I was chilled by a sweaty
terror while at the same time, a loving admiration. Peter was like Rambo and the
good witch Glenda. He was weighed down by dozens of weapons that clung to
his leaves. Most of the leaves had fallen off so the vines held the weapons and
he was clanging. I turned because I heard the croc someplace. Then I did
something incredibly stupid. I landed without knowing where the Croc was. Even
though it had helped us on numerous occasions, the Croc had been an enemy of
Peter's before they sort of teamed up against Hook. I wasn't really in
mortal danger but it seemed to come close to me. I turned and when I did,
something big and hovering swooped down on me. It was friggin man-size and it's dark
body, glistening and wet with sweat and other body fluids, slowed to a stop
over me, just over me as I backed up and fell over a flat topped rock. Peter
softly came over me but all the weapons clanged, making the Croc turn and
leave. "Peter, you fucking scared the shit outtta me!"
Peter's eyes locked on mine. He was in a mood. Animalistic. I shivered. His
eyes. Blue and somewhat red inside too, gleamed. He looked like he wanted to
ravage me! It seemed he could fly with all those things on him, knives,
swords, even a small spear. He hit me with is full force and my bare back hit the
cold stone. "Peter what the fuck?"
Truth be told, I loved it. He smelled. Of roses, of mud and of perfume, of
boyishness, of blood. I sniffed and thought I smelled cum, dried or otherwise,
oranges, Halloween candy corn, barbecue chicken steaming on a summer grill.
He embraced me as he came down HARD. He was full of grass, mud, blood, and
even dripping pre cum. He smelled like a farm animal. And candy canes. A
freshly cut lawn...his eyes were intent on me, one thing going on in his brain.
Peter looked at me. "It's been a long time."
He hooked his legs on top both of mine. His arms locked at the elbow and
joints, trapping mine beneath his, his hands were on my hips and moving up from
there as he flew â€"but only just--to give himself leverage against my
strength. "Peter? Are you all right? Are you yourself?"
Peter smiled and breathed on my sweaty neck, "Chase, of course, I just want
to have a little fun..."
I sighed. "Peter, you fucking moron, you scared me. I thought, Seth...or the
devil had taken you over again..."
"You use the adult curse words far too often lately, Chase..." He nuzzled my
neck and I put my head upward in delight. He smelled so good. I shut my
eyes.
"Yes, Peter, I know I have been..."
Peter's legs rubbed against my own and felt so good. So muscled, not an
ounce of fat with the exception of some soft like baby fat...his legs were hairless
and so...so...I can't even describe them. Like a well toned race horse's. And
all the while he touched me with his hands and the rest of his body he was
gently and lightly touching and untouching, caressing but not...if I had any
peach fuzz or if he had any...both would be just lightly touching, then meshing and
pulling back from each other. The sensation was driving me wild. I felt
something I hadn't in a long time. I rose up. Peter pressed on me hard and the
weapons all rubbed on me. I was sure one or two of them were scratching me and
one was even cutting me somewhat deeper. "Owohh, Peter," I laughed. I
rolled off and Peter's hands caught me but then lowered me to continue my fall
onto the lush grass. My back hit velvet like grass and Peter hovered over me. He
laid on me, and I felt so many things. Cold metal, steel, pain from the
sharp blades and in between the skin of Peter Pan, smooth, hard, tight and
untight, soft and somewhat blubbery at times.
"Oh, Chase, I so want to."
"Peter," I shut my eyes, "It has been a long time. But I didn't think you
wanted..."
"Shut up, Chase," Peter kissed my chin, my nose, my forehead and then from
there, quickly and harshly smacked a kiss directly on my lips. And he didn't
stop there. He continued kissing my lips. I felt a hot tongue enter my
mouth. My hands caressed up his back, careful to miss the swords crisscrossed
there and avoid the short spear moving along with us here. I thought I would
cream right then and there. I rubbed his back, felt our hips meet. I moved a hand
between us and fingered his tight and yet somehow unmanly belly. His smooth
washboard stomach, I fingered his navel and brought my hand lower, lower,
lower...
Peter jerked and rose a bit and landed on me again, the weapons moving on my
legs and one bit my hip.
"Peter, we can't..."
"We can."
"No, not now...wrong...wrong...time..."
"I want to."
"Don't you remember."
"Remember what?"
If he didn't remember, that was hot. To just abandon your mission in the
middle to have sex...to forget about all cares and worries. To let be be.
If he did remember... "Peter, there are lives in danger. People could die
because we delay as..."
"As we lay?"
"Peter.... The boys, the children, the flying girls....Graham..."
"Don't speak his name as we do this. It'll spoil it all."
"Damn, Peter, you're so...sometimes...you're so..."
Truth is if Peter was doing this while others could die, that was even more
hot. And I felt guilty thinking so. My sex was up between us and truth be
told, his was rising just as warmly and wetly. It was the moment I had been
waiting for ...for like forever...shit fuck piss. "Shit Fuck Piss!"
"Again with the adult fouls."
"Shit, sorry."
"I love you! I want you." Peter kissed me again and again. All over. He
rubbed his hands on my arms, tingling them, touching ever so hard, then
intermingling it with the barest of touches, the lightest of caresses...His full
lips touched mine, the lips that sometimes bore a lisp, sometimes British
accent, but mostly that Mid Western drawl...raised there by fairies...
I was so taken over by this, that I turned him over onto his back and rubbed
fully on him. He laughed.
I reached a full on load. I blew it all over his bare belly. He laughed,
took his hand and wiped it all off himself. It was sort of anti climatic, if I
might say so myself. I waited. A beat.
"What you have told me changes things," he said, "They are not playing
fair. Then I shall have to go there myself."
"Who'll bring the weapons to the Lost Boys?"
"You!"
He swung his hand...and my cum dove off it.
"Me?!" I protested, "Peter, you know I'm no good at flying with dozens of
weapons."
"No one is. But me. I mean you're good. But you're not me. I do it best of
course but you underestitty you self..."
"Underestimate?" I said, pulling myself off him and standing up, gathering
what weapons I could off him. I knew already that there was no point in
arguing about this one with him. Choose your battles. And truth be told, I'd
rather have had a weaponless Peter there than myself...especially if the Vikings
under Graham were pulling something shady.
"Yeah, that's too," Peter said, his grammar being worse than ever. "But
you can do it. You're pretty good. Thanks to me, naturally." He flew up,
waving, this force of nature leaving me behind.
"Fuck shit," I said as I surveyed the many knives, swords, and short
spears I had to carry.
A sole Viking was at the tree when Scen was brought there by the three
zombies. Scen was protesting but to no avail. The Viking guard was afraid of the
zombies so he just took a hold of Scen as the teen was thrown at him and he
brought him up the small wooden foot steps to the top of the tree house. The
roof held seven Viking children. The product of marriages between Valkeryie and
Viking men.
Tid: redhead, short and stout but not unlovely looking. Muscled beyond what
a normal seven year old should be, he reminded me of that Hercules or Tarzan
Junior kid who's father made him work out all the time, diet and exercise...I
forgot his real name. I think they just called him YOUNG HERCULES 3D or
something. Kid was great looking and had a pushed in nose but even with that. This
kid reminded me of him muscle-wise. Of course Tid had freckles, freakish
long red hair and was Viking. Yeah just remembered: Richard Sandrak and he's ...
...at this site: _http://www.richardsandrak.com/photogallery.htm_
(http://www.richardsandrak.com/photogallery.htm)
Anyway other Viking-Valkeryie kids included:
Marc: lean and tall, blond
Feld: short and skinny, black haired
Rir: redheaded and looking part American Indian
Orgna: a blond girl.
Mya: a redheaded girl
Gera: a brown haired girl
Pretty much other than Tid, just regular kids, I'd guess, even at this late
stage in my god-hood. Scen was taken up the tree house roof where the other
kids were tied up. He tried to help untie them but the guard, probably nervous
about rejoining the zombies below, smacked Scen hard on the back and this
threw the teen down onto the children, who screamed. "Shut up," the guard
screamed, "Just shut up!" The guard took out rope and began to tie up Scen,
who had already been manhandled by the zombies, who just stood at the bottom
of the tree and stared upward at ...him. Once he finished tying up Scen, the
guard hesitated before rejoining the zombies. He started to march down the
steps, putting up a brave front, puffing his chest out.
The guard went down the steps.
Peter, having flown as fast as he could, arrived at the tree house. "Lost
boys, have you won?" He flew up toward the roof. He encountered seven
flying Valkeryies, their arms chained to the arms of their cargo, seven more
Vikings. Fat brunette Bruna held one and Helg held another. Five more held
five more Vikings. The only one not there was Saca, Tid's mother.
"You will see that your children will die if you do not help us kill Peter
Pan once and for all!" one Viking said, aiming a bow and arrow at Peter.
Peter turned to see seven more Vikings on the roof, aiming arrows from bows ...
.at the children and Scen! And even though he laughed, Peter was very, very
worried this time, and it showed in his eyes...and the way his mouth uncurled
out of his laugh...

To be continued...