Date: Sat, 4 Nov 2006 12:28:33 EST
From: J
Subject: PETER PAN AND ME  58

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...