Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (67 page)

It was madness with Sark a bare twenty paces away, but it felt good and she continued with it until she was sure her moth was exhausted.  Then she leant over him, her own breathing ragged as she whispered, "Don't move a muscle until I come back.  Understood?"

He licked his lips, nodded.

Dee had no intention of coming back, but it amused her to leave him there as a signal to Sark that he couldn't control her.

This young man would be her calling card - and like a creature marking it's territory, she paused, crouching over him to smear the juices of her sex on his face, only to shudder in surprise at the feel his tongue on her tenderised flesh.  She had thought him spent, but the slow circles he inscribed convinced her she could afford another few minutes in his company.

The brutality of her last orgasm made this one slow coming, but he was patient and consistent, never varying from his agonisingly slow circumferencing until she felt the sensations crest and her shuddering hips brought his tongue hard against her clitoris.

As though sensing that he'd hit the mark, he lapped there, and she fell forward onto her hands, arching her back to keep that tongue working her, stretching out the pleasure until she was having trouble obeying her own decree of silence.

She pulled away then, but his head rose to follow her.  She pushed it back down.

"Stay," she hissed as she stumbled to her feet.  But the part of her that was smiling inside with creamy satisfaction was thinking he wasn't bad for a blindfolded beginner. 

This one would be wasted on a young girl, she thought staring down at him, at the way his legs trembled in anticipation.  What he needed was a woman with a lusty appetite. 

She almost told him as much, then hesitated.  No, he must discover this for himself.  As they all must.  She was merely the catalyst. 

Still, she hoped a woman who knew what to do with him would come across his strong young body tonight and make use of it.  Fondly, she reached down to toy with his beautiful black penis, stroking it until it was again erect. 

Then she straightened and walked towards the beach - away from where Sark sat worrying about his agent.  Dee wasn't going to waste her energy worrying.  Long Shadow's problems were of his own making.  It would be better for him to solve them himself.  And if he didn't.  Well, they all had to die someday.

A gust of salt-laden air billowed her shirt.

Ocean
, she thought, sucking in great lungfuls of the briny scent as she picked her way through the thick native grasses that led onto the sand. 

She would live near an ocean.

What country, with whom, or how, wasn't important.  She just knew she would have that salt-laden air, and the sound of the ocean - that giant restless creature.  She loved the way it threw itself up the sand towards her like a lover that would not be content until she was back in its grasp - back where it could suck and stroke her body with the rhythm of insatiability.   

Insatiability.  What a lovely word.

Dee turned away from the water and her shirt billowed at the front.  Tendrils of wind tickled her breasts and her belly, and the sweetly aching place between her thighs.

Insatiability.  There's no cure, she told herself as she skirted the houses where Sark and his men were posted, started along the road out of town.

Sexual obsession was a terminal disease.  She knew that.  But the thought gave her no grief.  It wasn't a debilitating illness, nor was it obvious.  And the length-of-life allotted to her was entirely within her control.

She could be a reckless wastrel or a thrifty whore.  It was her life's energy to squander as she saw fit.  And what a life she would have.  Free from societies conventions.  No expectations to fulfil.  No fears to inhibit her.  Even death was her friend now - a lover waiting in the wings for his chance to embrace her. 

Smiling dreamily to herself, she lifted her attention from the loose road surface where she'd been picking a path for her bare feet by the moonlight.  Something caught her eye.

Headlights, coming towards her. 

Not moving from the centre of the road, she waited as the car drew closer, slowed, then stopped directly in front of her.  The driver cut the engine, leaving the headlights on.   As Wendee stood illuminated in their glare, a shiver ran over her skin.  The night-time noises that had come from the thick vegetation on either side of the road had ceased.  It was unnaturally quiet.

The passenger door opened, but no interior light came on.  Still blinded by the headlights, she couldn't see who was emerging - whose shoes were crunching on the uneven road surface.

She waited, straining her eyes.

Finally, the figure spoke.  "Will you come with me, Wendee?" he asked.

Dee felt her skin crawl.

"I need you," he said.  "Come with me."

Still unable to see, she nodded, took a step towards the car. 

"Yes," she said.  "I will come."

                                                
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