Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

Sweetie	By : lexyhamilton Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Slash Views: 7055 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sweetie
- 1
“I wish you’d picked a better place,” he says, as I lock the manacles. “The Lost Boys come through here often.”

“You should hope they’ll rescue you then. Because this spot is precisely the one I intended for you.” I look up and gaze at the top of the tree, where bees fly in and out of a hole a few yards up above our heads. Peter stands in a surprisingly submissive stance. I’ve pulled his wrists back and chained them to the tree behind him, but he has plenty of motions left to fight back. He doesn’t, and seem to be waiting for me to do something.

“You want to feel pain, lad?” I take out a jar of honey I’ve brought with me and dab some on his shoulder with my thumb-- smearing it out before licking the remaining residue. “You want to feel fear?”

His eyes travel to the bees in the tree overhead. They are viciously good at detecting sweetness and, sure enough, one is soon on his shoulder. His knees begin to knock into each other. Excellent. I was afraid he might not know or remember what a sting feels like. It crawls back and forth, twitching its antennas and wings. I smack it and he cries out, the dead shell still stuck in the goo and a barely visible stinger protruding from his shoulder.

“Suck out the venom, boy,” I purr, reveling in my own wickedness, wiping the honey from my palm onto his other shoulder. “And I’d clean up the sweet mess if I were you.” He extends his pink tongue hesitantly, sucking out the stinger, and grimaces as he removes the insect’s body with his lips. He licks himself clean on both shoulders, soothing his red swelling with extra attention. He has never tasted honey before, I wager. Neverland’s bees have a cruel sting, and my men suffer greatly sometimes to retrieve these little bits. Funny that I should waste so precious a commodity on these idle games, but I am eager to see Pan suffer at any price.

I smear more honey on his chest, and he looks at me for only a moment before proving that he has caught on to the rules of the game. The game will soon get interesting. I smear it on his shin, and he tries several approaches before reaching it, taking advantage of his independence of gravity. I finally take out my hook and disrobe him, slashing his scanty outfit back to its separate vines before applying the honey to his navel, trailing my finger down, and dabbing more honey on his somewhat aroused member. He looks at me worriedly.

“Go on then-- let’s see how limber you are.” I had imagined that I would need to force him, to bend him to my will, but his feet leave the ground with no further ado. He turns and twists in the air, until he anchors himself against the tree he is bound to, taking advantage of the head over heels position to finally reach himself with his tongue. I am shaking with desire at this licentious display, and approach, pulling his bottom down, so that his lips engulf his own head.

“Suck!” I gasp more than command, and he obeys, eyes staring into mine with surprisingly little malice. He returns to his upright position, and I can wait no longer. Abandoning my previous plans to gag him, smear him, and leave him to the bees, I rub honey into his crevice, and finally reach inside. His breath hitches, and he moves to take more of my finger in.

“I can’t reach there, though,” he says. Can it be mischief in his eyes?

“But I can.” I only just have time to undo a few buttons of my breeches before he floats up, wrapping his legs around my hips.

“How… how do you know?” I have no time to worry about how uncertain I sound. The boy’s eyes sparkle—the only parts of him that slightly betray his real age.

“I want it,” he whispers. My hand alights on his hip to anchor and position myself, but we both turn sharply towards a sound from the forest before I can proceed any further. Children laughing. Peter rolls his eyes. Though recently I would have greatly enjoyed tormenting him in front of an audience, I now share his longing for privacy. I unlock the chain from the tree, and carry him, still wrapped around me, away from the cleared forest path. The proximity of his naked body to my member arouses me further, and I can barely concentrate enough to find a dense enough thicket for sound not to carry. For we will make sounds before this is through. I nudge myself into his sticky bottom, still dripping with what I have smeared into it. He shivers and writhes against me, almost animal in his muteness and lust. I begin inching my way in, watching his breathing go ragged, and his eyes shut tight.

“Unchain my hands please,” he suddenly says. “I want to hold on.” His thighs clench around me firmly enough to remove any doubt from my mind, and I fumble for the keys in my pocket. His arms circle my neck as soon as they are free to do so, and I am almost at a loss, stepping back from the moment in my mind enough to revel in the fact that it is my enemy who is willingly impaling himself on me thus. I want to resume our game and begin thrusting, but suddenly feel his legs loosen around me. I grab his waist, ready to claw at his guts if he attempts escape, but he smiles, pulling up and away only inches before plunging back against my cock, taking it to the hilt. I gasp and feel his fingers twining themselves in my hair before he kisses me deeply. Our lips part only moments later, and he repeats the motion—the entire length of my member treated to the luxuriant tightness of his opening passing over is hes he slips up and down, defying both gravity and any of my preconceptions about him. He emphasizes each return with a marriage of tongues, growing briefer and briefer as his pace quickens. Too brief for my liking, in fact, but soon I’m too consumed with sensations below the waist to care. He is vile-- he is dirty, and sticky, and wanton-- and now, so am I. It’s a match made in hell, consummated by my sudden explosion into him, as he rams his ass into me once more. This time I grab him to me and suction his mouth, still pumping my essence into his body—his opening still contracting around me almost painfully. He shifts his bottom up and down, milking me for all I’m worth, and I’m afraid I’ll fall over in blissful weakness. I have to push his hips away myself in order to leave the scorching heat of his body. His hands remain in my hair, and he insists on continuing to kiss me hungrily, but with my passion now cooling, I have to ask him what in world is going on inside his head.

“You’re a powerful, strong man, and sometimes I’m just tired of always being the leader. With you, I’m never the leader.” I could dispute that claim easily. His erection presses into my stomach, as his legs wrap around me once more. “And I like to feel full—full with you. My life is very empty sometimes, you know. I forget people, and people forget me. You were the first to take away that empty feeling.”

“Don’t pretend you were a virgin,” I say hoarsely, and leaning in to suck on his neck.

“I was, to you,” he says, his voice jumping delightfully when I nip him before breaking contact. “I only practiced for you.”

“With whom?” I ask, feeling slightly possessive.

He laughs, his body shaking against mine almost enough to arouse me again, even at my age. “Only with hands and fruits and other things. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but you caught me, so I had to hope I was prepared.” His eyes travel down to where his crotch meets my body. “… But I’m still very, very dirty.”

My cock is rising again, from all his playful wriggling, and he lowers himself just enough to come in contact with it. “As am I, thanks to you,” I say wickedly.

He pouts his lips and flutters his eyelids in mock innocence. “We can’t stay like this, not with the bees about.”

“No, we can’t,” I say, my voice turning husky.

“I can’t clean myself there,” he says coyly, peckin che cheek. A shudder runs through me when I finally realize what he’s asking.

“I won’t-- not before you clean me,” I retort, feeling his thumbs graze my moustache on either side. I use both arms to caress his bottom, glad to see just a hint of fear in his eyes when the cold metal glides along his skin.

“Why waste time when we can do it together?” He grins, rapidly turning completely upside down. His mouth engulfs me, and his tongue sends me into ecstasy. This was my original plan—to force him to take me in his mouth, but this acrobatic submission of his is ever so much more delicious. It is a few moments before I remember what he expects me to do in return. I stare hesitantly at the tantalizing bottom just below my face, and use my hand to separate his ass-cheeks. There is blood, and cum, and of course that sticky honey. His thighs touch my neck just as I take a deep breath and stick my tongue out. There is nothing pleasant about the taste of the mixture, but he moans and shudders delectably around my cock when I lavish attentions on his tight ring. He is bringing me to new heights of pleasure with agonizing slowness, numbing me to the filthiness of what I’m tasting.

We are soon both as clean as we will ever be, but continue to nurture each other. I finally invade his body, and his thighs clench tightly enough to choke me for a moment, ankles locking behind my head, encouraging my neck to remain bent down. His ministrations to my cock grow even more frantic as I proceed to explore his insides, finding his sweet spot by the moaning sounds he breathes in sensuous currents around my member. I take my unoccupied arm, and slowly caress his erection with the metal. It is only a matter of time before he comes in hot spurts across my chest. The intensity of his sucking soon returns and I am again pumping hot seed into him, while he continues to suck and pleasure me, swallowing everything. My mind is in a blur, and I cannot decide whether it is his mouth or ass that is my obsession now. We collapse unto the forest floor, breathing heavily. He turns back around, his face still red with blood that pooled down in his awkward position. He hovers over me, and even in my stupor, the electricity from our non-contact makes me shiver. I drag him down, pressing him harshly into my body.

“Quit your floating,” I growl good-naturedly, hugging his lanky frame. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“I can’t help it, when I have so many happy thoughts.” He smiles, rubbing his still-hot face into mine.

“You’re as red as a beet,” I taunt him, preferring to pretend that his flush is an afterglow.

“I think I just need to practice more often,” he says, rolling off my body into the bed of leaves, his sinewy muscles trembling lightly. We suddenly hear young voices approach. They puzzle at the jar of honey I accidentally left behind. We lie in silence, Peter nuzzling into me again, unbuttg myg my shirt, and making love to my torso with his hands and tongue. Soon we hear screaming, but the boy does not stop.

“It sounds like your brats have made acquaintance with the bees,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as he suckles my nipple.

“Probably,” he says, moving up to my face, and nipping my ear. “But I’m not going back, I’ve decided. I like honey too much.” He winks at me shamelessly. My hand squeezes his bottom, and I begin to mull over what I will tell my men when I return with him in tow.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Sweetie