When John and Tiger Lily stepped out of the longhouse, he suddenly realized that his bunk he shared with the other boys would not be a suitable place to rendezvous with Tiger Lily. With the others looking on, he whispered in her ear. "Where shall I meet you?" he asked.
She looked confused until he motioned with his eyes to the others looking at them.
"The hot springs," she murmured back.
John smiled, but then collected himself. "Thank you for explaining the structural layout of your home," he said loudly, turning to spread his arms wide in dramatic indication of the longhouse they'd just left. Tiger Lily wrinkled her nose at him; then her face relaxed into understanding.
"It was my pleasure," she said. It seemed silly to her to hide what they were doing and talking about, but then she caught a glimpse of her father's inquisitive expression and she understood. "You may ask me anytime," she called loudly as John and the others began making their way out of the Village. "I am always at the ready to answer them!"
Peter and Wendy shrugged their shoulders at one another as they continued to stride down the path toward home.
They walked for a half a mile or so slowly, processing the new information. The boys asked incessantly what the meeting was about and when Peter could take no more questions, he pulled Wendy aside.
"We should tell them some of it. But I want to talk to you first before we share about Tinkerbell," he said.
"Yes, I think that would be wise. They're so confused."
"I think you had better tell them."
"Why?" she asked.
"You're a much better story teller than I am," he said. She shook her head with a smile.
"Alright," she said kissing him on the cheek, and gathered the boys around her to tell the story they'd heard as she walked.
Peter really had another plan. He wanted to finish his conversation with John, and he wanted to do it now. He was going to leave tomorrow to travel up Never Peak to find the Fairy's dwelling place, and talk to Tinkerbell. Everything in him wanted to return to childhood and ignore what was happening; the choice he had to make. He almost could. But then he thought of the other inhabitants of Neverland. Food was becoming scarce. He thought of his lost boys. They meant everything to him. His Wendy and her blue eyes sparkling up into his. He would not let anything happen to her again. His mind was made up. But he wanted to do something before he left.
"John, I need to talk to you," whispered Peter.
John was lost in a daydream, his eyes looking at something no one else could see. "Hmm?" he murmured.
"John, wake up! I need to talk to you. About what we were discussing yesterday?"
John looked at him as though Peter had sprouted horns. Then he remembered. "Oh! That! Yes, what is it you want to know?" he asked, a silly grin still plastered to his face.
"Everything!" shouted Peter annoyed, and winced when Nibs looked back at them. "Everything," he whispered.
John took a deep breath and began the details of sex again. He was extremely clinical in his descriptions, but now he had a feeling that it was not quite such a scientific action. There was pleasure, desire and joy involved.
Peter knew this was the answer to the question that had been burning in his brain. Everything made sense. He hoped Wendy would still be interested in it.
They reached the hideout, and ate what was left of the food they had gathered the day before. "Wendy, I'm hungry," said Michael, pulling on her dress. She smiled, and picked him up. "Yes, I know dear, we'll have to go out and find more."
Peter jumped out of his chair eagerly. "The boys can do that," he said. "I need to talk to you about something."
"You're not going to kiss her again are you?" asked Slightly. Peter seized the opportunity, and pressed his lips to Wendy's, crushing Michael in between their chests. Michael giggled but joined the collective noises of disagreement from the boys so as not to feel left out.
"You've convinced me," said Slightly. "We're going, we're going. Yuck. Come on men!" Wendy gave Michael to John, and the boys marched outside to gather more food.
Peter took Wendy's hand. "I need to talk to you about tomorrow," he said.
"Yes I know Peter," she said turning away. She didn't want to think about it. Couldn't she have one last night with Peter, without discussing the tempestuous fairy?
"I have to go," he said. "It was my fault, and it's my responsibility. It's up to me to save you."
Wendy hugged herself, fearing the tears that were forming would spill out. "I wish you wouldn't. I wish it weren't up to you."
"I do too," he said. He wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind. He nuzzled into the warmth of her shoulder.
Wendy melted into his embrace. His arms were so strong and sure. But she'd be damned if she'd let him take on this quest without her.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
Peter paused and lifted his head from her neck. "No, you can't."
"I can and I will," she said.
"Wendy, Wendy…" He was in awe of her. He knew how afraid she was of Tinker Bell, and here she was insisting she go with him to confront her. He loved her so dearly. He placed hot kisses on her shoulders and his hands roamed over her stomach.
She clutched at them feeling waves of sadness and desire crash over her. His hands wandered up to her breasts and she gasped. She held them there, her head falling back onto Peter's shoulder. "I want to show you how much I love you," he whispered against her throat. Wendy shuddered at the intensity in his voice.
He turned her around, and captured her mouth with his.
"My bed," he gasped when they came up for air.
"Please Peter," she said. His stomach erupted in butterflies.
He swept her up, and carried her slowly into his room. He relished the weight of her, the movement of her body, the feel of her arms around his neck. He set her down on his bed, and kneeled in front of her. She looked down at him with such heat, he thought he would fall over. He placed his hands on her shins, and ran them up and down leisurely. Pressing on he pushed them past her knees over her thighs, dancing over her skin with his fingers to the hem of her dress.
Wendy's heart was beating wildly. It was so much and not enough.
"I'm going to take your dress off Wendy," he said. She nodded slowly. Lifting her slightly, he pulled the soft leather over her head. The notion to cover herself was overwhelming, but she resisted, and let him gaze at her. Suddenly, it wasn't embarrassing. He was looking at her with too much desire for her to feel ashamed.
Peter took several deep breaths, and clutched at his heart. She was too beautiful.
She scooted back to his pillow like the night before, and held out her hand impatiently. He shed his clothes, and lay over her. The feel of skin on skin was almost too much for him, but he was determined to make this moment last.
Wendy could only think of how wonderfully they fit together. She knew they would.
He raised himself on his side, and ran his hand down her face, her neck, over her shoulder, and rested on her breast. They were perfect. Squishy, delightfully round and interesting. He explored them for a while with his fingers. Certain things he did to them, made her react differently. She would moan or arch her back or clutch at his hand. Compelled, he leaned forward and kissed the pink bud that hardened when he touched them. Wendy gasped, and held his head to it. He kissed it again, and then curious, opened his mouth and licked it. She closed her eyes and said his name. Encouraged he tried it on the other, with the same result. It was making his nethers tighten and constrict in a wonderful way.
He only stopped when she begged him. "Please Peter, I need more," she said. He rolled over her, and moved his hand down her stomach to her nethers. He pushed his fingers in, making sure he could find the place he needed to. She raised her hips against him crying out. He didn't know touching her in this wet place would elicit this reaction.
"Are you ok Wendy?" he asked, his pulse racing.
She was breathing erratically. "You're making me feel so good," she said.
He breathed a sigh of relief. He moved his hand over her hip to her thigh, and pulled it around him anchoring himself in front of her.
"I'm going to push into you Wendy," he said. She nodded, and clutched his shoulders. He entered her and began to move slowly. She felt a sharp pain that surprised her, but it gave way to her insides glowing. What magic was this? Now they did fit together. It was like the slide of honey, and just as sweet. She thrust up into his movements. There was a building pressure that was drawing from a hidden place inside her.
Suddenly they both exploded with pleasure. It went out from their abdomens down every extremity. Wendy's eyes went fuzzy, and her mind blanked. All she could feel was Peter. She called out his name, and said hers into the crook of her neck against her skin.
Peter collapsed on top of her, his breath ragged. When he felt a little more strength enter his limbs, he whispered, "That was more than I thought."
"Yes," she said smiling, running her hands over his back. He pushed himself up, and kissed her gently. Rolling to his side, he held her close so they were forehead to forehead. They were silent for a while. Finally he spoke. "I want to ask you not to come with me tomorrow," he whispered. "I want to keep you safe."
Wendy stared into his eyes, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertips. "That's too bad Peter Pan," she said. "I'm coming with you. No power in Neverland will stop me."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she kissed him again, impeding him with her tongue. They began to move together again.