Elizabeta Brooke: Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan

Surely he wouldn't…

"You don't want to… put it in me, do you?" she asked, genuinely frightened by the thought. She'd never considered he might want to go that far. Her mother's litany of complaints on the subject of 'the ugly business', as she called sex, had created a terror in her daughter that had suppressed any natural curiosity. Wendee had been prepared to suffer unpleasantness in the pursuit of her scholarship, but actual pain…

"Take them off and come to me," he ordered, more forcefully this time.

"I'll do the other thing. I'll do it twice if you want me to," she whispered, backing up to the door, reaching around for the handle.

"You can't get out without the key," he said, holding up something that glinted dully in the faint light. "Now be sensible, Wendee," he turned and put it up on a high shelf behind himself as he spoke, "and take those panties off or you're going to be really late."

She stood her ground, and after a moment his voice dropped into a coaxing tone. "You did so well on that maths test, Wendee. You deserve an A, but you know you'll get a D unless you do what I want. Don't you?"

"Yes, Sir." She stared at the pale silhouette of his penis, visible against the dark background of his trousers. It suddenly seemed larger than she'd remembered.

"Just this little test, and then if you're good next week after the chemistry exam you'll get that scholarship you want and it'll all be over. Now take those panties off, and do it quick. I'm starting to lose my enthusiasm."

Wendee paused a second longer. She could say no and be reasonably sure he'd release her, but then everything she'd done before would be for nothing. He'd said there was only this time and one more. And she'd promised herself she'd do anything to achieve the dream. At some point in her life she had to have sex. Why couldn’t it be now? It all sounded logical but the very idea of it curdled her stomach, and that wasn’t helping. She must think of this as a test of her body's strength, instead of her brain's. She could do it. She quickly slipped her panties off.

"Good girl. Now give them to me."

Wendee handed over the faded pink bloomers, tugging her pleated skirt back down, wishing it came below the knee. She watched his pale hands fondling the panties for a moment before he brought them to his face and breathed deeply, staring at her over the edge of them.

"Nectar," he said softly. "Waiting for the bee."

Fear stabbed at her then, but mingled with it was a strange sickly excitement. "Don't hurt me."

"You shouldn't have teased me, little one, if you didn't want to spread those pretty legs. But don't worry, it won't hurt and you'll like it. I promise."

"It will hurt," she said, her gaze flicking from his huge penis to the shelf where the key lay. "And I won't like it." But inside herself something was stirring, and when he reached across and touched her breast, she shuddered as much with surprised pleasure, as with revulsion.

He smiled. "We can stop if you want and I'll unlock the door." His hands caressed both small breasts before moving to undo her shirt buttons. "But I don't think you want to do that. Do you, Wendee?"

Flattened against the door with his penis hard on her belly, she felt her shirt come open, but instead of fear there was only the wonder of this new tingling awareness that suffused her body. The tightness behind her breasts seemed to have strangled her blood supply, making her oddly light-headed, and behind her closed eyelids she imagined she could see with her skin.

He pushed the shirt over her shoulders, his movements more urgent.

"Take it off. Take off the bra," he ordered, and she struggled to comply, her hips writhing against his as her arms fought their way out of the sleeves. Then he leant in, his arms on the door above her and she was forced to press her breasts against his chest as she reached behind herself to undo the bra. Fumbling, she managed to get it off and drop it to the floor on top of her shirt.

But even with her cold back against the door there was no escape. Through the thin fabric of his shirt she could feel his coarse chest hairs chafing her tender breasts, his hot breath on her forehead.

He tilted his head to whisper in her ear. "That was good. Rub against my cock some more."

The angry red shaft lay half on her skirt with the glistening tip touching her bare skin and she was loathe to move in case it spurted on her, but so strong was the habit of obeying his commands that she did as he asked, resting her weight on the balls of her feet and shimmying up and down and around.

An unexpected sensation of power touched her as she listened to his moans of pleasure, and felt on her skin the slight stickiness she'd come to associate with the moments before his seed erupted. She should have been repulsed, or at least uncomfortable, but instead she felt… dizzy.

" Yes," he whispered on a sibilant hiss and despite her excitement, she stilled. His voice worried her. It was… different.

He pulled away to look down at her, his eyes slightly unfocused. "Pretty little tits," he murmured as he cupped her them with his palms. Then he squeezed, and deep inside her stomach Wendee felt the fluttering evolve into something unrecognisable. Her cheeks flamed, her mouth went dry and the darts of pleasure arrowing around her body from where he was touching her breasts seemed shockingly intense, as thought he'd caused her pain. But he hadn't, he wasn't.

"You like that, don't you, Wendee?" He reached up to release her ponytail and coax her thick hair down around her shoulders. Then he lowered his body and latched his mouth on to one breast, his tongue rough and hot as it laved the tiny pink nipple. He sucked it hard and she felt her knees weaken. It was so…

"Do you want to stop, Wendee?" he asked, teasing the painfully hard tip with his tongue.

"I'm frightened," she managed to whisper past numbing lips. Her brain felt as though it was alight.

One of his hands slipped under her skirt, brushing against her downy pubic hair and she lurched in his arms then went still, quivering as his mouth slid across to the other breast and his fingers explored the virginal territory even she wasn't familiar with. She began panting, only to jump again a moment later.

"So tight," he said, "but don't worry. We can work around that." And his clever fingers went back to stroking and teasing, sliding through the gathering slickness as Wendee lay panting against the door, her knees buckling and her brain filling with white noise. She felt sickened and explosively excited at the same time. I can stop. I can stop, she told herself.

Then he drew back. "Suck me again."

Obediently she collapsed to her knees, knowing they wouldn't have held her much longer. Her thighs trembled, as did her hands as she fumbled in the darkness to grasp his penis and close her lips over it.

"Suck it hard," he ordered harshly. "All the way to the bottom."

Wendee complied, feeling the tip press against the back of her throat, almost gagging her.

"Harder." He grabbed hands full of her hair and bucked against her mouth twice, then shuddered as the hot seed sprayed against the inside of her cheek and slid down her throat.

Wendee felt tears running down her cheeks, not knowing if they were from fear, revulsion, or the terrible excitement that still throbbed inside her. She sat back on her haunches and scrubbed her eyes, feeling her breasts tense and ache from the movement. They wanted to be touched. She wanted them to be touched. She was so confused.

"Stand up," he ordered, his voice surprisingly harsh considering how pleasant he usually was after she'd completed her test. "You've been very bad, Wendee," he said. "You didn't do that properly."

She shook her head in confusion. "I'll do it again if you — "