Pan

WARNING: This story is hopefully homoerotic in content, which means that it will involve male on male sex of various ages.

ALL THE CHARACTERS AND SITUATIONS CONTAINED WITHIN THIS STORY ARE FICTIONAL. ANY RESEMBLENCE TO REAL PEOPLE, PLACES ETC. IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

PETER PAN AND THE NEVER NEVER LAND ARE THE CREATIONS OF THE AUTHOR J.M. BARRIE.

This story contains consensual sexual activity between male minors. It didn't really happen, you know, seeing as it's a story and all. If that is an issue for you please don't read on. It's also a fantasy, so don't go expecting real life resolutions to situations as they arise. Although not practiced by the characters in this story, the author always recommends 'safe' sex in real life. You must be above the Age of Consent in whatever god forsaken part of the globe you are reading this in. If not turn back - now - go on - jog on son...

Copyright 2011

I'd appreciate contact/feedback - if there's any to be had and can be reached at bangarang@hush.com

Pan

Chapter One

The heat wave had gone on without showing signs of anything even approaching cooling for nearly two weeks. Even as evening closed in and bruised the sky, the humidity stubbornly refused to abate.

I threw open my window, pulled my t-shirt from my sweaty torso, and launched myself on top of the bed.

Looking at my bedside alarm clock - it was nearly eleven - I considered what was left of the evening and turning my head, instead, I stared at the crack in the ceiling. It looked longer - maybe a little wider. I pictured dust - puffing out in little clouds and falling onto my face while I slept.

One deep sigh and I closed his eyes. The summer was nearly over and I'd soon be back at school. Even worse, I was going into third year. Which means elected subjects, standard grade exams and plans for a future career I was far too young to even think about? Two more days and my first real steps to adulthood. Two more days - two more days then back to English with Mr Johnstone sweating through his light blue shirt - French with Mr Deeley and spidery eyebrows and hairy fingers resting on my shoulder. Two more days and Mrs Ferris in Geography - snorting and sniffing and talking in such clipped and aggressive tones. There was one positive though.

Two more days and P.E. first two periods - football with Mr Blackhalls - sixty minutes of running the field, kicking the ball, being tackled to the ground and then the golden ten. Those ten minutes in the showers. Ten minutes in the showers sneaking peeks at some of my classmates. I thought of David and the water bouncing off of his firm arse cheeks - rivers of soap flowing down the forming pubescent muscles of his chest. And Ryan, his tanned legs, strong and smooth calves leading up to those perfect, football made thighs - watching as he ran a soapy hand over his tight, hairless sack and encircling his semi tumescent three and half inch cock. There were others too, Daniel and Gareth, usually ending every shower by chasing each other around the changing room; towels whipping in all directions - their still glistening hard young bodies tearing past me - their sweet, delicate little cocks bouncing around between their thighs.

Christ, I was getting hard just thinking about it. I could feel my dick pressing against my grey track shorts. Almost absentmindedly my hand trailed down my tight pubertal chest, tracing down my stomach and the first hints of the six-pack to come - index finger circling my navel. I moved my hand further down, pushing into my shorts and down again and into my tightie whities. Gripping my hard five inches - running my thumb over the angry red head of my slim, young erection - electricity passed through me - from prick to trunk - from my sack to my ten toes. I pulsed my fist, performing long, slow strokes, enjoying the sensations of the blood rushing through the veins in my meat. Letting go of my just over five inches of boyhood, I'd had enough. I was feeling too constricted - couldn't spread my legs as I'd liked. Pulling down my shorts and underwear, I kicked them from my bare feet and flicked them the floor by the bed.

With my other hand, I stroked the small patch of dark hair that had begun to grow in at the base of my prick over the summer. Short, dark curls - no longer that than my thumb nail - I liked the feeling of these between my fingers. But even more, I liked the feeling of my balls and still gently pumping on my rigid little cock with my right hand, my left dropped lower and began playing with the small but growing globes, kept safe and tight in their hairless velvety sack. I rolled each supple egg between thumb and forefinger, pulling them gently downward and enjoying the strain it put on my tool. I kneaded the sack, gently squeezing it between my fingertips and the palm of my hand.

Lying naked on the bed, one hand stroking my member, the other cupping and playing with my smooth young nuts - I exhaled softly - rubbed the soles of my feet against my calves - curled my toes and thought again of the showers at school. David's chest - his peaked nipples that were ever so slightly raised - how I'd wanted to caress both of those pink buttons with my lips. David's butt - hard, hairless cheeks, his soapy finger running between the firm mounds of flesh, perhaps pressing against his unblemished hole - I imagine it pink, tight and virgin. Ryan's strong legs - a light smattering of downy brown hair on his calves - an elaborate fantasy of us sleeping top and tail, while he sleeps, I rub my prick against his leg, the soft brown fur tickling my blushing glands to orgasm. Ryan's soft, uncut cock -watching it thicken as he gently pulls and cleans his expanding shaft - the expanding shaft that plums up in my mouth, my tongue running around the edges of its small red head.

I could feel the pressure building in my balls. I bucked my hips into tight fist - fucking my hand. My breathing changed - short shallow breaths, growing faster - my heart was pounding in his chest - toes curling - one sharp intake of breath and...

"Oh... Oh... Fuck!" Pulling hard on my balls, I released one thick shot of creamy white cum that sprayed my fourteen year-old chest. I pulled again and shot another thick load across my tight stomach, a pool of my sticky juice nestling in my belly button. A third dribbled over my knuckles, matting itself in my newly grown pubic hair.

"WOW!" A voice, not mine, stage whispered.

My eyes shot open as I felt my heart nearly explode in my chest. A boy's face was smiling down at me.

I sprang from the bed, buck naked and stumbling and threw my back against the bedroom door. The floating boy leapt to the ceiling, hands and feet flat. He looked at me, almost quizzically and smiled.

"That was cool," said the boy.

My eyes fixed on the boy as he floated down from the ceiling, crossing his legs mid-air and coming to a rest just above my bed. The boy was half dressed in autumn leaves and cobwebs. A sash of greenery crossed his bare, athletic looking, chest from left shoulder to waist and continued to below his navel, to leafy shorts that barely covered his lithe golden thighs. On his right hip, sheathed in brown leaves was a leather handled dagger. The boy leant forward and cut gently through the air, coming to a stop inches away from me.

"What type of game was that?"

I couldn't answer - my eyes were fixed on the spectacular sight of this most beautiful boy so close to me. A tight mop of messy blonde curls seemed to wave in an imaginary breeze. His large clear blue eyes, wide open in wonder - his button nose, spackled with freckles twitched with excitement, nostrils flaring -taking in my scent.

"Are there rules? Can anyone play?" The boy asked.

The Boy's skin was golden, almost glowing as if it had captured and was radiating a thousand summer days at play.

I breathed deeply, trying to collect my thoughts. How the hell did he get in here? Was I dreaming? Had I fallen asleep? Had my wank fantasy evolved into something beyond anything I'd used before? Something about this boy - this stranger in my bedroom... I wasn't as frightened as I thought I should be and still naked, still with my back to the door, I raised myself from the floor. The boy mirrored my actions, planting his bare feet to the carpet.

There was no doubt about it. The boy was beautiful. Everything about him attracted me like a magnet. As I broke into a soft smile - the boy, with outstretched fingers, reached forward and took a scoop of the cum that was still clinging to my chest. I watched as he inspected it; stringing it between his fingers - examining its consistency between his finger tips and thumb. I watched, still, as he raised it to his nose and sniffed. The boy arched his eyebrows and curled his top lip, he looked at me as if suspecting some sort of trap on my part. Then with a devilish smile he put his fingers to his out stretched tongue and licked. Smacking his lips he smiled again.

"It's good. Tastes like bread-fruit - a bit sweeter."

Watching him inspect and eat my cum, my dick found new life - bounced of its own accord, once, twice and then sprung back to full mast. I saw his eyes dart to my crotch, sizing me up, his smile grew wider and wilder. Instinctively, I covered myself with my hands. "Are you to play again? Can I play too?"

The prospect made me harder than I thought possible.

"I'm Peter Pan..." he stretched his hand out to shake mine. He stood there, motionless, a fixed great grin, legs apart and shoulders square. He stood, unmoving for what seemed like minutes as I hesitated.

"I'm Liam, Liam Thomas."

"Pleased to meet you Liam." The boy took my hand and shook it vigorously as if pantomiming the actions he'd seen performed by adults. An inner warmth, exuded from his touch, one that I felt in the palm of my hand shoot through the rest of my body. For a moment, I'd swear the two of us were glowing.

"Will you show me? Will you show me how to play your game?"

Before I could answer, Peter had pulled away his sash, dropped his shorts and stepped away from them - standing naked and glorious in front of me.

And he was glorious - beyond beautiful. He was a perhaps nearly five and half ft. tall. He was tan from head to foot, soft looking skin and aside from a light dusting of blonde hairs on his fore arms and calves, he was smooth. His chest was tight, a hint of the pectorals he would have as he grew into maturity, topped by two little plump browning nipples - his beautiful stomach, defined into burgeoning muscles - his slim waist and hips, the start of an Apollo's belt. Peter's erect prick, stood firm, holding tight to his body at four and half inches - his pouch looked soft as a silk purse and was bunched in tight between his beautiful tanned thighs. I felt it in my gut first. Upon looking over his body; his young musculature, his young member, his expectant eyes and hopeful grin. I felt it in my gut first, felt it spread throughout my whole being - I actually ached for him.

Peter sat on my bed, then lay flat and patted the space beside him. I gave up hesitating. I gave into the ache I felt for this magical boy and the promise he held. Padding over to the bed, I lay beside him and felt a rush of electricity as our hips, our shoulders and our legs touched.

"How do we start?" asked Peter. "Like this?" With his right hand, he stroked the length of his penis, rubbing it gently with his palm. I felt him shiver next to me as he touched himself for what I suspected to be the first time.

"Grip it," I instructed, "like this." I held onto my tool and pulled it so that it faced the ceiling, giving the boy a better view of what I was doing.

"Aha! Like a dagger," he said, getting the idea and mimicking my actions on his own young cock.

"Now gently, pull on it. Think of it... think of the skin around it like a sheath for a dagger. You want to show the blade a little but not too much, sheathe the dagger a little and unsheathe it again." I watched as Peter listened to what I was saying and pulled on his young prick as I'd instructed. "Oh my, Liam that feels... this might be better than flying." He rubbed his cock, the head beginning to poke a little through his foreskin. I watched his arm tense, his strong young bicep tightening with every slow stroke - I watched his little cock appear from and disappear into his small fist, seemingly growing harder each time - I watched him as he watched me. I increased speed, so did he - I rubbed my thumb over the tip of my yearning gland, so did he. He bit his bottom lip, so did I - he ran his tongue over his teeth, so did I.

I wanted him. I wanted to taste him. To be inside him and have him inside me - but I didn't want to frighten him. To try and fuck him now, to have him fuck me, might ruin this whole great "game." Still, I had to step it up a level.

I began by rubbing my foot against his leg, feeling his soft skin and silken blonde leg hair with my toes. To my great delight he responded, entwining his leg in mine. I shuddered with excitement. My first time, masturbating beside another boy - this was as close to sex as I'd ever gotten in my short fourteen years on this planet. Time to see if we could go a little further.

"Hold on a minute Peter. I want to show you something." I let go of my cock and bringing my hand to my mouth, I spat in my palm. Peter stopped playing with himself and looked at me curiously. "Don't worry; this is going to feel really nice."

I wrapped my wet fist around his boy prick and began to jerk him. His eyes rolled back in his head and he pursed his lips and whistled. His dick felt amazing in my hand. Four inches of steel wrapped in supple pink flesh. I twisted my body so that my own cock rubbed against his smooth hip. The feeling of his even, golden skin on the head of my cock as I gyrated into him was almost too much to bear. My own cock began leaking precum, flecks of my semen creating a lubricant on his skin.

"Oh my Liam, that is better than flying."

With our legs still intertwined, I lowered my head to his shoulder and took in his scent. He smelt of boy, of wonderful, brilliant, celebrated boy - the smell of puberty, the smell of youth and... something else, the smell of a boy who has the wind at his back and the sun on his face. I sped up my stroke, felt Peter's body lean into me. His breath quickened, his tongue darted between his lips. I could feel his body tense, his legs stiffen. His hard little nail took on a life of its own. It began to throb in my hand; I could tell he was close. My own orgasm, my second in the space of fifteen minutes wasn't too far behind.

"Liam?" Peter was growing breathless.

"Unh huh?" I quickened my stroke - tightened my grip on the boys hard four inch nail.

"Liam, something's happening. I'm not sure what's happening, Liam" He rolled into me, my dick now rubbing against his sleek thigh. "Oh my Liam, stop, please... Liam... Liam... BANGARANG!"

As Peter crowed, his prick throbbed in my hand. The first shot went into the air, landing in my hair and on my forehead. The second, a long creamy string, splashed across his chest and trailed down to his navel. A third, a fourth and fifth all landing on his abs. At that point, watching his boy juice spray his body, watching the look of pure joy cross his young features, my body tensed and shuddered and I too shot a thick and creamy load on his thigh.

As Peter was catching his breath, I looked at the trail of semen that covered his body. It was thick and white and glistened with small flecks of gold. Instinctively, I gathered up some of his cum on my fingers and took it into my mouth. Its taste was almost indescribable - sweet and fresh, thick like cream sharp like fruit juice it really was - like nothing else.

It took me a moment.

It should have been immediate - but it took me a moment.

I was floating, a few feet above my bed. My body still tangled with Peters. I looked him directly in his perfect, clear blue eyes. He was smiling at me. Smiling at me with his whole being. I never felt so safe - so close to danger.

"Who are you Peter?" I whispered.

"I'm Peter Pan..." he rolled away from me, up further towards the ceiling. I jolted, frightened that without him I'd fall, but I stayed in the air. He stood on air - his balled up fists on his hips, his chest puffed out and proud, his cock still standing to attention. "I'm Peter Pan. King of the Lost Boys. Friend to Mermaids and Fairies and Indians. Vanquisher of Pirates and Witches..." he flew so close, our noses nearly touched and whispered, "...Lord of the Never Never Land."

Flashing a perfect boyish grin, Peter floated to the floor and stepped into suit of leaves and cobwebs - dressing in an instant. I stayed watching him, a stupid big smile on my face as he flew to the open window and stepped out. I thought he was about to go. To leave me - to disappear as he had appeared - from nowhere - but he stopped and turned back into the room.

"Come with me Liam."

"What?"

"Come with me to the Never Never Land."

"But I..."

"But what Liam? Come with me."

I straightened myself and sank into my bed. I could barely believe the things he was saying. I stood and pulled on my underwear and shorts.

"I can't Peter. My Mum... I've..."

"You'd never have to grow up Liam. You'd always be a perfect boy."

I couldn't answer. I didn't want what was happening to me. I didn't want to go back to school - to study, to sit exams, to find a job and buy a house and...

"Come with me. No school... No responsibility..."

My head wouldn't add up the things he was saying. Couldn't make the maths work.

"How do we..." I'd started asking.

"Second to the right and straight on till morning."

I hesitated. This was unbelievable. These things don't happen. There's no such place as 'The Never Never Land.' No such place with Pirates and Witches and Indians and Mermaids and... did he say Fairies?

Peter smiled and stretched out his hand. I took it.

In an instant, we were above the city; above Edinburgh - above the castle and the drunks on Lothian Road - above the Forth Bridge - above Scotland - above Europe...

I clasped on tight to his hand - out of fear and the trill, letting him lead the way - around me then only stars and black. At some point I passed out...

To be continued...