Setting the Record Straight: Peter Pan
The long twelve-mile bridge leading to the Kingdom of Tigertail stood four hundred and thirty feet above the water. Maggie’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel, firmly planting her hands at the nine and three o’clock positions, doing everything possible to keep from looking down. Once, while researching an article, Maggie learned that humans are born with two fears: the fear of falling and the fear of loud noises. Maggie didn’t fear heights as much as she feared falling to her death from a great height.
It’s amazing what we learn to fear, Maggie thought.
As she approached the end of the bridge, she started to relax, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw something in the water.
Oh my God, it looks like a fucking mermaid!
Maggie was still craning her neck to see if she had seen what she thought she had seen, when the sound of a blaring car horn grabbed her attention. Maggie had drifted into the oncoming lane of traffic. She yanked her car hard to the right and lost control, slamming into the concrete abutment at the end of the bridge. The passenger wheel well crumpled inward, lodging against the tire, making it impossible to move the car off the bridge. As Maggie considered her options, a tow truck magically appeared and stopped in front of her disabled car. A tall blonde jumped from the passenger seat and walked toward Maggie.
Peering through the open driver’s side window, she said, “Hi, are you Maggie?”
Maggie looked around in a semi-daze. The girl gently placed her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Maggie hung her head and began crying.
The blonde said, “Hey, it’s okay.”
Maggie wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
“No, it isn’t!” Maggie slammed her hands repeatedly against the steering wheel. “I am going to be late for an incredibly important interview that I have already had to postpone once, and now this!”
The blonde pointed to the driver of the tow truck and said, “Jay over there is a fantastic mechanic and can have you back on the road in no time. And the person you are here to meet is the one who sent me to come get you.”
Maggie slowly began processing the words coming out of the blonde’s mouth. She opened her car door and stepped out, slowly running her hands over her body, checking to make sure she hadn’t sustained any injuries. “I don’t understand. The accident just happened. I haven’t had time to call anyone, much less the person I have an appointment to meet. And please forgive me if this comes across as rude, but who are you?”
The blonde laughed and extended her hand. “My name is Tink, Tink Bell. See that little bistro down there?”
Maggie shaded her eyes and looked in the direction Tink had pointed. A hundred yards down the beach, Maggie could see a boardwalk where various shops, bars, and restaurants catered to throngs of people enjoying the beautiful weather. Sitting at an outdoor table were two men, one of whom waved when he saw Maggie looking in their direction. Maggie returned a hesitant half-wave toward the smiling stranger as Tink explained, “The one waving is Peter.”
Before Jay drove off with her car, Maggie grabbed her belongings out of the front seat, thanking him as she did so. Tink turned toward Maggie and said, “We really shouldn’t keep Peter waiting.”
As Maggie and Tink weaved their way through the throng of people on the boardwalk, Maggie caught a glimpse of silver darting in and out of the waves. Maggie grabbed Tink’s arm, stopping her dead in her tracks. Pointing, she asked, “Did you see that?”
Just then, the figure of a woman with shining silver hair jumped out of the water.
Tink said, “Oh, her? Don’t worry, you’re not going crazy. I see her too, as does half the beach. She really should be more careful. She’s been warned by the city officials that she needs to stop scaring the shit out of the tourists. It’s bad for business.”
“Really? I would think people would love to come here and see a mermaid.”
“Maybe, but not that mermaid. She’s a royal bitch.”
“You know her?”
“Who is she?”
Tink rose an eyebrow and replied, “Her name is Uma. I knew her in high school.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say and kept starring at Tink and then toward Uma, ping-ponging her gaze back and forth.
Tink looked at Maggie with concern and asked, “Are you sure you didn’t get a concussion from the accident? You’re acting kind of slow.”
Maggie stared at her slack-jawed. She feared her gaping mouth would do little to alleviate Tink’s concerns that she had suffered some sort of brain damage in the accident, and immediately snapped it shut, sounding like a snapping turtle in the process.
Tink stared quizzically at Maggie before turning and continuing their trek toward Peter. Tink and Maggie finally arrived at the quaint French bistro where Peter sat next to a dark- haired man with eyes so blue they looked almost purple. Peter stood as soon as he saw them approaching and, with a flourish, removed his hemp Fedora, bowing gracefully and exclaiming, “Welcome! I am so glad we finally have this opportunity to meet.”
“Me, too. I can’t apologize enough for having to postpone our last interview, and I appreciate your understanding and willingness to meet with me today.”
Peter took her hand, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it a moment longer. Please, have a seat. I took the liberty of ordering some wine and a lovely baked brie.”
Maggie thanked him and noticed there were only three chairs. She asked, “Isn’t Tink joining us?”
Peter looked at Tink and winked, “No, but she’ll be back when your car is ready.”
Tink said, “Sounds like my cue to exit stage left.” Without another word, Tink spun on her heels and left the restaurant.
As Peter was about to pull Maggie’s chair out for her, he stopped and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, where are my manners? I don’t think I have formally introduced my friend, Harry. Harry Hook, meet Maggie McCullough. Maggie, meet Harry.”
Maggie extended her hand and noticed it was trembling ever so slightly. She was still rattled from the accident and needed a moment to collect herself. “If you would both excuse me, I desperately need to use the facilities and freshen up a bit.”
Peter pointed Maggie toward the restrooms. She weaved her way through the dining room, where patrons were enjoying all manner of French cuisine, toward the restroom door that had a colorful Can-Can Dancer painted on the front. Maggie entered and walked straight to the sink to splash cold water on her face. She grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser hanging on the wall, dried her face, and took a deep breath. She eyed her reflection in the mirror hanging above the pedestal sink and gave herself a pep talk.
“Maggie, get a grip. This isn’t like you. Focus on the interview. Take charge.” Maggie walked out of the bathroom and noticed the lunch crowd had thinned. Once Maggie returned to the table, she focused on the task at hand and extracted a pad of paper and her fountain pen from her bag.
Peter stared at her pen. Maggie noticed his gaze and said, “I know it is rather old-fashioned, but it was given to me when I was young, and I have a rather sentimental attachment to it.”
“It’s lovely. Who gave it to you?” Peter queried.
Maggie honestly didn’t know the answer to that question and replied, “It was a gift from a friend of my parents. I really don’t know any more than that.”
Peter shot Harry a quick glance. Maggie sensed there was more behind that look, but didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole.
“Peter, tell me how you and Harry first met.”
Peter stared lovingly into Harry’s eyes and reminisced about that night. “Harry and I first met our freshman year at Tigertail University during rush week. All the houses on campus were throwing outrageous parties, each trying to outdo the next. The Neverland Fraternity was no exception, and that year the house hosted the most morally debased toga party the likes of which no one had ever seen. I didn’t know what to expect when I first pledged, but my father belonged to Neverland and he insisted I follow in his footsteps. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say I was glad I listened to him, because Harry was also pledging Neverland.”
Peter reached out and took Harry’s hand. “Remember that night?”
He turned back to Maggie.
“We were both drunk and decided to go stumbling about campus, exploring our new surroundings. We both loved horses and headed toward the stables. I remember the chemistry I felt. We were dressed similarly, in straight leg jeans that were so tight they left little to the imagination. Seeing Harry’s round, firm ass in those jeans got me so excited that I pulled him towards me.
He responded by nudging closer to me. Harry wrapped his arms around my waist and ever so lightly began kissing my neck. The sensation was magical, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I urgently kissed his parted lips and could taste the beer he had been drinking earlier that evening. He reached down and began unbuttoning my jeans. His erect cock pressed against his pants, making me rock hard with excitement. My dick could have cut diamonds!
I wiggled out of my pants and Harry pulled back slightly and began stroking my cock. I grabbed Harry’s erect penis through his pants and rubbed him feverishly. Harry unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down around his ankles. He spun me around and slid his stiff cock along the crease of my ass, poised and erect, ready to push inside of me.
Luckily, I had grabbed a small jar of vaseline before heading to the frat party that night, in hopes of meeting someone special. Harry used the lube before lining up with my well-prepared hole and gently inserting himself. With each inch, my eyes widened a fraction and I gasped louder. Harry kissed my shoulder and moved rhythmically in and out of my warm depths. Deep, slow thrusts, accompanied by slaps to my ass.
I remember pleading, ‘harder’. Obeying my wishes, Harry made me moan with pleasure. He reached around, wrapped his hand around my swollen cock and stroked fast. Harry cried out, ‘Gonna come soon!’ Grunting with each forceful push, a moaning Harry came hard inside me. I stood upright and turned to face him, my hand moving rapidly over my cock. I shot my load all over Harry’s stomach and chest.”
Both Harry and Peter adjusted themselves in their chairs. This wasn’t the first time Maggie had seen such a move; she was reminded of Andrew telling her all about Little Red Riding Hood and her own reaction when she first sat with the very hot Andrew and listened to his sexy rendition of the real story behind Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.
Maggie was filling her notepad and interjected a question, “Peter, I am having a really hard time reconciling the original story of Peter Pan with you and Harry meeting in college at a frat party. Can you take me to the point in the story where the two tales diverge?”
Harry looked over at Peter and said, “I told you it was one of the first things she was going to ask!”
Maggie saw the look of concern on Harry’s face and attempted to put him at ease.
“Please know I will do everything I can to write a fair and balanced story.”
“That’s the point. You won’t be able to because of who created the original story.”
A light bulb went off in Maggie’s head, “Did Greta Grimhilde have something to do with all of this? Is that why you are concerned?”
Harry snapped his fingers and pointed excitedly at Maggie. “That is exactly what concerns me. That woman is a vile, evil, conniving cunt and will never let our story see the light of day.”
Maggie hadn’t considered this possibility, but thinking back on it, she had been suspicious when Greta first bumped Peter’s story. Maggie looked at Peter and then Harry and asked, “So what really happened?”