Peter and Tink

	The golden ship dropped anchor over the London rooftops. The captain, a swaggering young lad in an ornate red overcoat much too big for him, kicked down the ladder off the port side. The ship's passengers lined up to descend to their cozy two-story home. The sleepy trio gave their regards to the captain before departing. The youngest brought his fist to his heart in the manner of an indian chief. His bespectacled older brother bowed. The oldest, a pretty girl in ribbons curtsied and kissed the captain on his blushing cheek. He coughed and threw his shoulders back. He watched as his guests gingerly entered through the nursery window. Once he was positive they were safe and sound, he cried "Let's go, Tink!"
	The tiny glittering figure rained down golden dust from her shapely little body upon the vessel as the captain returned to his post behind the wheel. He turned it to the unmistakable shine of the star that would guide them home.

	The boy that wouldn't grow up and his fairy companion returned to that island in the sea of space, Neverland, as their sun rose above the horizon. They guided the ship above Cannibal Cove and flew a safe distance away before dropping it unceremoniously into the sea. The fairy known as Tinker Bell convulsed with laughter. Her cheer turned to puzzlement as she could see through teary eyes her closest friend Peter solemnly perched in the air. He was never one to frown at the misfortune of pirates. It struck her just how small he looked in the dreadful pirate captain's coat. She fluttered to his shoulder and playfully ribbed him about it. Her sass seemed to rouse him. He smirked, removed the jacket and tossed it to the waters. Satisfied with the destruction, he turned to her and asked "What now, Tink?" She did not know. For the first time in all their years together, he asked with genuine uncertainty.

	The pair returned to their apartment deep within the great hollow tree. Tink, yawning and stretching with great vigor, fluttered to the lantern she called home. She was about to turn in when she noticed Peter sitting on his bed, head cradled in his hands. She had never seen such a sight. She intended to pay him no mind and was about to remove her leafy frock when a sob echoed in the cool little chamber.

	Wide-eyed and now well-awake, Tinker Bell peeked out from her quarters. Peter quavered. What a sorry sight, Tink thought. So sorry it angered her. She took flight, beet red, and faced the boy, now desperately wiping his tears.

	"Aw, leave me alone Tink!" he snapped. Her bell-like voiced peeled off many choice words, many of which that have no direct translation into our language. The closest approximation can be found on the lips of the saltiest of sailors. As she continued her tirade, she noticed Peter trying to stifle a smile, fairy profanity being one of his greatest sources of mirth. Her rage subsided, but she looked at him with crossed arms and an expectant glare. He sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. "I dunno, Tink. I just got to thinkin' about Wendy. I don't know anyone else like 'er." Tinker Bell furrowed her brow. "Now don't cha get all angry. You're different Tink." She raised an eyebrow. His cheeks flushed. "Well, you're pretty Tink. Real pretty, prettier than Wendy even!" She was all ears now. "But you're not like me y'know? When she kissed me, I felt hot all over ..." he trailed off as he he noticed her curious gaze. "Well, you can't kiss me like that, that's for sure!"

	Neither said a word. The fairy fluttered closer to the boy's face, a curious expression on her own. Peter braced himself for one of her bullet-like strikes she was fond of throwing when angry. Instead, he felt a touch so warm and so slight on his tightly-shut eyelid he thought he imagined it. He felt it again on his brow, his temple, his nose. Aware of a tickle on his shoulder, he cautiously opened his eyes. Tink sashayed to his neck and planted little kisses there too. He felt a familiar heat well up inside, surging to his ears and cheeks, his fingers and toes, down his spine and up his thighs. Tink felt it too. She leapt off his shoulder. Once she was sure she held his attention, she began to shimmy, shedding her leafy frock a breath away from his nose. She twirled her tiny bare body. In her gyrations she saw him stare, slack-jawed. His left hand had crept to his groin, clumsily squeezing the strange hardness between his legs. He raised his other hand for her to land. She reclined across his palm and spread her legs, her own hands creeping down her body. Peter brought her closer to examine, as he had never seen what a girl had between her legs before, much less a tiny one. A tuft of blonde hair covered whatever she had. His curiosity roused, he kissed her there. She emitted a sharp chime. She tasted like mint leaves and honey and the endless breeze. Satisfied, he licked her, his tongue caressing everything from her shapely hips to her dainty toes. She spread her legs wider, as wide as they could go. Her body began to convulse and  radiate an ever deeper shade of pink as Peter hungrily lapped away. She cried out, a tone so bright and resonant the glass walls of her lantern chamber shattered across the room. Peter startled. By reflex he lowered his hand with the dazed, delighted fairy into his lap as he examined the destruction.

	Tink regained her breath and sat up. Now in his lap, she could see the full extant of her influence bulging from his thin breeches. She chimed out once more. Peter turned back to her, first with confusion and then realization. He let her take flight and then scrambled out of his now painfully restrictive bottoms. He made himself comfortable on his bed. Tink landed on his belly, her tiny feet tickling him as she made her way to his boyhood, standing at full mast. It appeared to tower over her. She embraced it as tightly as she could. He shuddered. Pleased with the result, she began to kiss it, stroke it, paying special attention to every ridge and vein. He began to moan. She fluttered a few inches up to examine his peak. Red and bulbous, it looked as delicious to her as a particularly succulent mushroom. She circled around began to nibble and kiss where the shaft met the tip. Peter shook and whimpered. Little beads of liquid formed and dribbled from his engorged tip. Tink slurped every drop and greedily licked her way to the source, which she licked and kissed like a pair of lips just for her. Peter's breathing quickened, his moans grew louder until his boyhood erupted a small but strong spurt, filling Tink's mouth and covering the rest of her. She gulped it down with some difficulty and licked the rest of it from Peter's now shrinking member. Once she was satisfied, she flew to Peter's chest where she landed and relaxed, listening to his boyish heart return to its usual rhythm. He covered her body with his hand and gently stroked her with his thumb. Delicious exhaustion crept within them both. Tink, eyes heavy, mumbled a few notes. Peter smiled, "Yer right Tink, Wendy wouldn't be any good at that." He could feel his own body sink deeper into his bed. "Don't you worry though," he said through yawns, "no matter who ever comes to Neverland, it'll always just be you and me Tink. Forever."