As Leigh stared straight into Kyle's smiling eyes, she tossed the bear-shaped bottle of clover honey onto the corner of their spread picnic blanket. Kyle dragged his gaze southward and watched in rapt fascination as a viscous stream of honey slowly rolled down the slope of Leigh's engorged breast and came to rest on her darkened nipple. The golden wave rippled and engulfed the pinpoints on her areola and then mixed with the translucent milk beading around her secreting dimples. Kyle extended his tongue and positioned his head where his tongue tip could curl around the base of her very distended nipple.
He moved his hand gently up her rib cage until he met the fullness of her breast. He cupped his hand on top of the Leigh's, entwining their fingers over the heavy tit. At his bidding, together they squeezed her ripe breast, causing the rich milk to slowly leak, then suddenly gush from her tightened nipple. Kyle envied Leigh's newborn daughter's daily access to this sweet delight, which once again drew his thoughts to the paternity of the beautiful little girl. She certainly had his ice-blue eyes. Leigh, however, brought him out of his momentary domestic reverie with her own lusty need.
"Ohh, baby," Leigh groaned, "that feels sooo good!! Squeeze my aching tits, honey."
'Honey', thought Kyle as the thinning mixture rolled off her swollen nub and into his waiting mouth. Those Old Testament prophets had it all wrong. THIS is the land of milk and honey. He licked up and over the fat nipple and then circled her entire areola, making sure his lips applied a gentle suction that would encourage her to 'let down' more of her sweet fluids.
Leigh held the back of his head and panted openly. "Kyle, sweetie, do you remember the first time you tasted my milk?"
"That's not something I'll ever forget, sweetheart! That day is burned into my memory."
"I guess it would be tough for you to forget, baby. I mean, how many married nursing Moms can say they got seduced by a 6' 3" rabbit, and at a children's Easter party, no less."
Seduced, thought Kyle, with an inward smile. It was a seduction, all right, but just who seduced who was far from firmly settled.
15 Months Earlier
Kyle Wheaton grinned widely as he watched the little red-haired 4 year old girl run with unabashed joy to the open arms of her smiling mother.
"Mama! Mama! The Easter bunny gave me jelly beans for my eggs!"
"That's great, Lizzie," her mother told her. "Did you give him all the eggs you found?"
"Yes, Mama! He's a nice bunny"
"I'm sure he is, Lizzie. He's surely the biggest bunny we've seen around these parts," her mother said as she looked over at Kyle. When standing, he was well over 8 feet tall when you counted his hard plastic rabbit ears that made up part of the pink and white bunny head he happened to be wearing.
A little boy had already taken up residence in the sitting Kyle's lap, offering up the colorful eggs he had found in the early morning egg hunt. He was impatient to trade for the candy that Kyle was exchanging for the Easter eggs. He had been waiting a long time for his turn at the candy trough. The line to visit the "Easter Bunny" had diminished quite a bit since the noon hour, with only a few kids left who were eager to make the exchange for booty.
Kyle had to admit that it had been more fun than he had expected. When his wife, the pre-school director, had first asked him if he would play the role of Easter bunny this year, he had quietly groaned inside. His mind immediately had shifted into 'find a plausible excuse' mode. Unfortunately for Kyle, his wife had cunningly chosen the timing of her request to coincide with the presentation of her silk panty-clad ass while changing clothes in their bedroom walk-in closet. Kyle, like all the generations of straight men before him, followed the time honored tradition, stared, and fell prey to the real 'sacred feminine', thus failing to respond in any fashion in an appropriate time frame. Kyle was trapped once again in the estrogen haze. Monica, knowing full well that she had got him again, slowly straightened up, turned, and sweetly kissed him on the cheek.
The "carrot" had been offered.
"Thanks, honey. I really didn't know who to get this year to play the role now that the Simpson's boy moved away."
Sensing there may be a sensual reward for his albeit reluctant acceptance, Kyle reached around his wife's hips and playfully cupped the cheeks of her butt in his large hands. Grinning at her, he began to knead her firm fleshy globes lovingly. He was about to inquire into her current state of horniness and free time when she once again fired one of her exasperated verbal broadsides full into him.
"Damn it, Kyle, must you always act like a rutting buck. I'm glad you're going to help with the party, but my gratitude doesn't mean you get to ride me whenever it suits you...."
'Ouch', thought Kyle, there went the "stick." It actually felt more like a spiked club. The 'Ouch' thought was quickly followed by an unsaid 'Well, fuck you too, baby."
There are defining moments in life, during which the previously unthinkable, in the blink of an eye, becomes the possible. In Kyle's case, the possible lasted but a nanosecond, swiftly moving on to a cold resolved absolute. You see, as far as Kyle knew, rutting bucks actually got laid periodically, and Kyle wasn't convinced that woodland does experienced the myriad physical and mental ailments that seemed to afflict Monica on a daily basis, especially after the bed sheets got turned down every night.
How long had it been? Try as he might, Kyle couldn't remember the last time he and Monica had made love, and he supposed that really said it all. He was having trouble remembering the last time he had even tried to initiate sex. Repeated rejections must have a way of fogging the memory, he supposed. Pissed to the gills, but determined not to let Monica see his disappointment once again, Kyle released his hold on her ass and turned to retrieve the clothes he planned to wear. It seemed as if frost had just invaded the air in the closet.
After twenty years, Kyle Wheaton had just resolved to never again pass up an opportunity to experience the extra-marital sexual favors of willing nubile women.
Monica's feminine radar had also picked up the subtle change in the closet air. It made her uncomfortable, and was something she had never truly felt before. Uneasiness began to settle over her. Time for some damage control.
"Kyle, you know this isn't a good time, honey. I have work to finish right now."
"It's OK, Babe, you go do what you gotta do."
"Maybe later, huh, Kyle. Tonight, after the kids go to sleep..."
"Sure, Monica, later on tonight."
But, as usual, later that night stretched into the next day, then the next week, until Monica had completely forgotten her heated closet rejection of Kyle.
Meanwhile, Kyle emerged from the closet that day everything but gay. After almost twenty years of being faithful to one woman, Kyle's heart, mind, and genitals were suddenly open for new business.
A few weeks later, Kyle found himself sweating his ass off inside a heavy fur bunny suit. It gets plenty hot and humid in East Texas in early April. The outdoors Easter party was just starting to wind down and Kyle was beginning to think of the shower he would soon be taking down in the basement level of the school. He had started out the day in shorts and a T-shirt under the bunny suit, but even that set of clothes had become drenched in sweat by mid afternoon. At one point, Kyle had quietly slinked off to his downstairs lair to change into a fresh T and remove his shorts, choosing to finish the last hours in just his boxers. He had even considered going buck naked under the suit, but visions of the cops hauling his "alleged pedophile" ass off to jail made him reconsider that ill-conceived plan. He was probably taking enough risk as it was in this day and age.
So, only slightly more comfortable than before, Kyle sat in his stifling bunny suit and exchanged candy for colorful hard-boiled eggs from the line of excited children.
However, it was far from all bad. Kyle did realize one very positive aspect of the anonymity of being clad in the fur suit and mammoth plastic bunny head. The mothers tended to forget there was a man inside that suit, and so Kyle got to stare at and study all of the lovely women for as long as he wanted without their becoming flustered or annoyed. He also got to learn about who was breastfeeding, who turned 30 or God forbid, 40, who was getting a boob job or starting to experience hot flashes, and who was getting or considering a divorce. Some of the information was well worth filing away, while much of it was more than any man could ever need or want. I mean, come on, how's a guy supposed to remember the really important stuff like Hank Aaron's lifetime batting average with his head all filled up with that feminine trivia....
Kyle had noticed one 30-something Mom talking to several friends while waiting for her young daughter to complete the egg exchange. She was rhythmically pushing and pulling on an infant stroller in which slept a 4 or 5 month old baby. He recognized her from other school events, but had never been introduced to her. During the conversations she was having with her friends, Kyle had heard her companions call her Leigh.
Kyle had also noticed that Leigh had been glancing over at him (the bunny, that is) off and on throughout the morning party. He had chalked it up to her curiosity over who was portraying the rabbit this year, or how her young daughter was fairing with the egg swap. However, as Kyle watched from within his costume head, Leigh turned to one of the other Moms, touched her lightly on the shoulder, and spoke briefly to her in a questioning manner. The other woman laughed, pointed at Kyle, and told Leigh something that caused her to smile broadly. Her friend then herded the children around her, including Leigh's daughter, took possession of Leigh's baby stroller, and rolled off to her Suburban with the entire pint-sized entourage in tow.
Kyle had just enough time to ponder what was going on with these two when a significantly heavier weight flopped firmly onto his lap. Along with that soft weight came a pleasing warmth and the light scent of perfume.
"Hiya, Bugs! Mind if I get my picture taken on your lap? Got any jelly beans left for a secret admirer."
Next thing he knew, she was twisting around in his lap and peering into the two big eyeholes of his bunny head.
Thank you, God, thought Kyle, for delivering this angel straight to my perspiring loins.
"Hi there, Kyle. Carrie told me it was you under all that fur. Aren't you getting hot in there?"
Oh Leigh, if only you knew how perceptive that was...
"Hold still for a minute, Kyle. I asked the photographer to capture this Kodak moment."
"OK, Leigh, and you can tell him to take his time and get it right"
Leigh gave him a puzzled look for a brief moment, maybe due to his response, maybe over the fact that he called her by name, but then laughed and turned her attention back to the photographer. Kyle had been through this all morning, so he absentmindedly rested his 'paw' on her hip as he had done with the kids to make sure they were lined up right.
While waiting for the photographer to set the shot, Kyle unintentionally began patting the right cheek of her jeans covered ass.
