Peter Pan's Lost Boy

BY : BluestarEarthrose
Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Slash
Dragon prints: 2001
Disclaimer: I do not own the character Peter Pan. I only own any original characters in this story. I make no profit from this writing.

Peter Pan’s Lost Boy

David could feel his warmth behind him, the feeling of hardness and pulsing, bobbing and sliding between his cheeks.  

There was hard and soft, suckling, licking, nipping wetness on his ear.  Against his neck.  The hand against the fabric blanketed pulsing, hard and weeping parts of him was immature yet experienced.  

He’d heard the tale of who Peter Pan was while he was still a street dwelling youth in London.  

It was said that he’d once been a wealthy, dark and handsome, twenty-one-year old Duke who’d reveled in company and sexual favors from both mature, beautiful males and males, thirteen to eighteen.  

He had people under his authority who would lure street boys with promises of food, warmth and so on, back to his estate in the countryside.  

But a very powerful faerie had not been happy with what she’d considered to be his exploitation of the vulnerable and innocent and so, she transformed him into an eternal fourteen-year-old.  

Afterwards, she banished him to Neverland.  

However, another powerful, dark faerie in Neverland had been the enemy of the one who’d cursed him and so, had taught him black magic over the course of five, torturously deprived and lonely years which had eventually led to him being able to bring boys back from David’s realm.  

It was also said that for the first year after that, all the gorgeous teens around him, ensured that even after he had gluttonously indulged in them all, he maintained a supernatural, tree trunk sized erection which persistently wept like a breast full of milk.  

It wasn’t until David that all of that had changed for many reasons, including that Peter had thought he was the most beautiful male, he’d ever laid eyes upon.  

Peter often took his brutal, carnivorous yearning out on him.  But it didn’t feel like exploitation to David.  

In fact, the things he was doing to him currently, just felt like blistering exquisiteness.  

It felt better than what he could’ve ever dreamed of back when he imagined what it might’ve been like being with the older teen he’d had a crush on and who’s likeness was much like Peter Pan’s while he had still been in his own realm.  

The attention Peter gave him was so addictive.  

His plush, red lips against his and how he’d do such dominant, naughty things like making him suckle his stiffened tongue like it was his stiff cock, often made his mind feel like it was swimming.  

He relished the feeling of his fingers bathing in the magical, eternal boy’s midnight hair.  

When his striking, penetrating glaciers for eyes melted and their chilly waters washed over him, he felt like he was drowning in a sea of vivid, euphoric and paralyzing emotion.  

David may have only been around for thirteen years before Neverland bestowed him with eternal youth.  

But it never felt like that when his knees were sunk into Peter’s bed and Peter’s fingernails were sunk into his scalp, his fingers gripping his dark locks as he savagely and dominantly grunted and growled out his satisfaction, behind him.  

The way he filled him revealed the well-endowed gift that he possessed.  

The power in his thrusts were compatible with his streamlined, muscular frame.  

And each time, by the end, David swore his small patch of black pubes had grown thicker and more abundant and that he’d reached farther and that the part of him that had reached, made huge, pus filled zits being popped, sulk in a corner.  

After Peter unleashed his large, bloated and leaking girth from his tattered pants, David felt his swollen veins pulsing against his skilled palm, his hot, slick breath and mud slathered words, clawing at his ears, until he’d brought him to a wailing, tear drenched climax.  

He was then on his knees with painfully hard, soaked fabric being forced against his lips from above.  

Peter snarled for him to suck it.  His feral lust revealed itself in his expressions and sent shudders roiling through David’s frame as he hummed against him with his returning, deliciously filthy agony.  

Once bare, hard and weeping heat was transforming his cheek into a cannonball and his throat into a cannon barrel with sponge-rammer plunging in and out of it, the throbbing parts of David were standing like a ship mast.  

He was shown how desperately Peter needed him and was thoroughly reminded that he was his most cherished Lost Boy and most thrilling sex pet as their intoxicating musk and evaporating sweat, intertwined with the smell of the forest detritus around them.  

Peter’s eventual blast into the stars seemed excruciatingly fantastic for him with him grunt-howling out his rapture as David’s mouth messily overflowed with the increasing ‘nude feet squishing against mud’ sounds.  

David had never beheld anything so beautiful in all his short life—Peter caught up in the violent storm raging inside of him.  

His taste was even more sumptuous.  

After that, this beautiful, shrunken version of Adonis invaded him right there, on the forest floor.  It was all so passionate.  Animalistic.  Furious.  

David’s tears and singing voice, inevitably merged with what his body splashed all over his bare stomach and hard nipples.  

Then while above him, Peter’s nipples tightened even more against the brown, earthy fabric covering his chiseled chest as he fed David’s body, until he was overflowing like a golden goblet.  

Just like all the times before, David’s time with his beloved Peter Pan was so spectacular.  So good.  

Also, just as he had done up until that point, he would continue to wish upon a star, that this dream of always being so close to the one he greatly revered, adored and who had rescued him from his harsh life on the streets, would never end. 


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