This is the chapter that will change the rating. Proceed with caution.

Peter, of course, was not really her son. Although, Madame did make him do horrid things like eat his vegetables, and make him take bathes much like a mother would. It would have been wonderful if by some twist of fate, they really were mother and son and that they had found each other again, but this was not the case.

No, Madame Wisteria had simply found Peter, walking the grounds in her time of mourning her dear dead husband. She saw him playing on his pipes a most beautiful song. At first, she was quite sure that he was an angel sent from Heaven to help her in her time of need, an heir sent from God. She was quick to change her mind when she found that the boy was quite insolent sometimes a bit violent, and absolutely not angelic. He played beautifully on his pipes, but he sang like a crow.

Madame felt too motherly in her nature to not take him in, and let us say in confidence, she found he could be of much use to her as an adoptive heir (although she had never really mentioned this to him, as he was highly opposed to being mothered, and even once asked him what he would want to be when he grew up, which threw him into quite a rage).

The truth of it, was that Peter did not really mind being mothered. He just preferred Wendy, and before seeing her again, was quite terrified he had lost her forever.

Peter was very solemn that night when he came to Wendy. He did not even want to hear the story of the dreaded water god 'Dagon', which had been passed to her under the door in the lavatory. He lay on her bed, quiet, and stared up at the sky. He was quite pensive for a while, and she felt she should not disturb him.

"Which one of those stars do you think is my Neverland?" He asked. Wendy jumped, for she had all together forgotten he was there, and had naughtily began reading the horror story without him. He offered her a playful laugh, which unfortunately faded quickly. She squinted out of her window and tried, with much effort to feel for his home, but to no avail.

"I don't know, Peter." She said sorrowfully. He was quiet again. Time passed quite calmly, and the sky offered them a glorious view of the harvest moon.

She fell asleep reading the story, as Mr. Lovecraft had such a complicated way of writing she found herself rereading parts she did not understand.

In her Neverland her imagination had stirred up quite an ominous happening with the Mermaids. She heard strange things from their lagoon, and stalked the forest, heart in throat, to catch them cavorting in their cultist dealings. Peter had stalked after her, finding fun in being behind her without her knowing. He was indeed very quiet, having marched many miles with the Natives of his Neverland, never breaking a twig with his large clumsy feet. Birds flew in the distance, Wendy gasped and turned to see them, Peter flew back behind her (to his complete surprise, he really had thought he had forgotten), and with a terrible shriek crowed loudly. She jumped nearly out of her skin, which sent him rolling with laughter. How fun it was to tease Wendy.

"I nearly… I nearly…" She gasped, as she clumsily felt about her nightgown to see if she had soaked it. This sent Peter wheezing with laughter, and it rang so loud and pure that the ominousness of the lagoon completely lifted, and flowers bloomed to hear it. His happiness meant all of the world to Wendy, and soon they were adventuring together, finding clues and ancient relics talking of great ancient deities. They had played for hours, so it seemed to Wendy, that she quite knew it was time to go back to her little house. Peter seemed resistant, but did not pass a chance to hold her close to him on their cot in the cabin.

"You sleep, Wendy. I shall stay awake forever, and live here. I will wait for you in the morning." He said, giving her a quick peck on her head. She hardly had faith in his staying awake, and was not completely taken off guard when a moaning woke her from her sleep, and she saw a tortured sleeping Pan lying next to her. She was happy he had stayed, so that she could hold him and soothe him. But, alas, he had stumbled quite naturally from her Neverland again, and just couldn't seem to stay afloat.

The next few days, Peter continued his pensive silence. He thought about Tink and how he had met her. He had no idea. He was just being a boy and she appeared! He then thought dreadfully about his real mother. He thought of the barred window, and the child sleeping in his bed, but could not quite remember if it was a real thought, or just pretend. In his confusion, he slyly asked Madame if she knew where he came from, since she seemed to know so much. Blanching quite suddenly, she misunderstood him, and pulled him to a quiet corner, where she told him about how a husband will plant seeds in his wife to grow a child. Already disgusted with the idea, he asked how the baby gets out, and without knowing how to tell him, told him they burst open like dandelion puffs. He imagined something completely horrid and made an exaggerated sound of disgust.

"That can't be true, silly woman!" He said as if tasting something awful in his mouth. "Babies come from cabbages, my real mother told me so!" He shook his head and laughed to himself in such a way as he walked away from her. "Honestly…" He mumbled disbelievingly.

He asked Wendy that night and what she said made him feel so much better.

"It is said that it is the greatest pleasure ever possible in the world." She said enticingly. "That adults keep a secret from children."

"Let us try to find it out!" He said, completely riveted. She scoffed.

"Well you have to be married to know it, Peter." She said, quite obviously.

It was not long that Peter had forgotten his sadness. Wendy and Peter had finally read 'Dagon' beneath the covers of her bed, and it was wonderfully terrible. Peter, in an attempt to read to Wendy for a change started to read to her 'The Little Prince'. He began to call her his Wendy Rose, and she called him Prince Peter in return, which made him feel so important. To not make himself a fool, he found himself practicing the story so that he knew it by heart, before he read to her. He agreed quite well with the little prince, grown ups were quite awful.

Sometimes, Peter would not go down to Wendy and would only sneak down to her once he was sure she had fallen asleep. He loved to see her face as he burst into her Neverland to surprise her. He could never quite have enough of Wendy being happy to see him. In their pretend, he tried harder and harder to capture her and make her his wife, in an attempt to discover the great secret of the adults. One particular night, he was rewarded for his effort. He caught her while playing one of their chasing games and ran his hand up her nightgown to play with her belly button whispering, "I shall plant my seed in you."

This made Wendy feel horribly flush, and her stomach quivered to his touch.

How he loved to capture his Wendy, and make her shiver. Snaking his hand around her waist he took her lips with his. Her heart, quite a flutter, could not resist his advances. She kissed him back with much fervor, all the while ashamedly trying to pull her nightgown back down. He broke the kiss and looked down at her with wickedness in his eyes.

"No, Wendy…" He said, pulling her nightgown further up still to expose her breast. He stared at her for a while, and kneaded her breasts while biting his lip. He felt a hunger building in him, but he did not know what for. Without thought, he bent to kiss her breast. She shuddered at this and he reveled in it.

"Peter…" She whispered. He leaped up.

"You don't… like these kisses?" He asked suddenly scared that she would bar him from kissing her (as he really did not know at this point if he could honor her wishes). She did not answer, but took his hand. Her eyes grew heavy and impassioned and she kissed the palm of his hand. He watched her in awe. His Wendy, giving him such kisses… he could almost not contain it. She placed his hand on her breast and looked at him with such tenderness.

"Do as you like, Peter." She said, heart palpating in her chest. She parted her mouth and offered her lips to him, which he took with eagerness. They were laying, now, in the field of flowers, the little blooms dancing in the wind. Peter suckled on her lip, and lavished in the taste of her. He did not know if it was right, but he knew he wanted it. She reached under his gown as well, and felt his back ripple as he held himself over her. The fabric gathered quite annoyingly towards his face and he peeled if off without much regard. He pressed his skin against hers and lavished at the feel of her warmth. Now it was Wendy's gown which bothered him, and he peeled it off her too without even asking. She did say to do as he liked. A feeling of wickedness took him as he realized he could really do as he liked, even if he did not know what it was. He let his weight rest on her, and he traced kisses up her jawline. He whispered to her.

"I hope you will forgive me," He began, "If I do something wicked…" Wendy loved it when he did wicked things to her, and she held his body to hers to show that she was not afraid. He had swelled quite terribly now, and the pressure grew strange on her belly. He shifted it down between her legs as it had grown quite sensitive now, and it throbbed almost painfully. This was Peter's awful discovery, you see, because there was a place between her which grew so invitingly warm, he could not help but rest himself against it, much like a bee is drawn to rest on a flower. He moaned as the strangest of feeling overtook him. He felt an urgency to press himself between her. Hungrily and dazedly he kissed her neck, sucking and tugging playfully with her skin. He lost himself in the feeling of kissing her and he ground against her. Wendy jolted and she felt him press to a very sensitive part of her. As she had become so slick, he slid tortuously over it, and she moaned with pleasure. He whimpered at the sounds she made, and reveled in the pleasure he was giving her. He tried to kiss her, but found that he had no breath, and he breathed hotly over her. She kissed his neck, offering him the same tantalizing nibbles he had offered her. His heart was now completely full to bursting, and he found the strangest catch of flesh between them. Naïve, and full of fire he pushed against it, and found himself quite suddenly inside her.

Wendy gasped and clasped her hands to his back. Never before having felt herself filled. It was beyond him, now. The feeling of her, the sounds that she made, it was the greatest pleasure he had ever found. It was quite strange, then, that in all his blurred thinking he knew. He knew this was the planting. He was planting his seed. He was making Wendy a wife… and a mother. Peter was thrilled. He did not know if she knew, for she seemed so lost in herself now, but he shall tell her later. He will keep it a surprise. Now suddenly filled with tenderness for his Wendy, he slowed his grinding, and she was all too happy for it. He caught his breath, and kissed her lovingly and long. She returned his kisses, legs shaking, and her body, too began to crave. He felt her wriggle under him, bringing him deeper, and deeper. He thought her quite scandalous, and he smiled his wonderful smile at her. His passion grew slowly and he loved to hear her breathing quicken.

"Oh, Wendy…" He whispered to her. Although most of the time, the sounds he made could not be put into words. The pleasure built, and built, until he was no longer softly grinding into her but pounding into her. His stomach churned with the strangest feeling and closed his eyes in passion.

"Wendy…" He moaned, almost pleadingly as he suddenly held her to him and released, what he felt was an absolute wave of bliss. He hit her deeply and she groaned in pleasure. His heart began to slow, and he looked down at his Wendy, completely disheveled, eyes heavily gazing at him in fascination. He kissed her, although his kissed were now salty with sweat, and lay on her chest. He listened to her heart begin to slow, too, and it lulled him. She did not speak, but rubbed his back so soothingly. He fell asleep, quite suddenly, as if all the life had been drained of him.

When he awoke in Wendy's bed, he saw that she was still asleep. He kissed her shoulder, whispering her name with such passion. He was now forever changed, he had found the secret. She awoke slowly and rolled over to see him. She gasped as she felt something wet and cold on her back, and stood up quite suddenly to investigate. A sticky substance soiled her night dress. Now, Peter looked horribly ashamed, and it did not help that she looked at him and said.

"Oh, Peter." She wiped her hand on her nightshirt, as she stripped it off. The sight of her made him smile devilishly, and he took her hand to pull her into bed. He knew that she remembered their adventure, and it hit him quite suddenly that it had been all pretend. He did not want it to be pretend anymore.

She came willingly to him, equally entranced and impassioned by what they had done. Once he had lured her into bed, he pushed her down and kissed her hungrily. He was slower this time, he was tender this time, and as a reward Wendy cried quite passionately and crumpled with pleasure before he finished inside her.

I'm not ashamed, are you ashamed? Read and review you please.