Maybe it was all the chocolate I'd eaten, but I had been exceptionally horny all of Easter weekend. It was like everywhere I looked something steered my thoughts toward naughty acts. Cuddly chicks conjured thoughts of warm, intimate touch. Eggs reminded me of my own plump breasts, aching for attention. Candy's sweet taste suggested the contrasting saltiness of cum on my tongue. And bunnies... well, we all know what rabbits are best known for. All weekend long, I was distracted and preoccupied, itching for a roll in the hay.
Typical of John, he was missing when I needed him. The holiday was a big deal to his religious parents, so he had been with family starting (Good) Friday morning through Easter Sunday dinner. In a nominal effort to acknowledge the humanity of its workforce, John's employer, Colossal Co., had granted employees an optional half-day on Easter Monday. While John had hesitated to take the time off - knowing that any time away from the office would mean an exponentially-increased workload when he returned - he had relented after I inundated him with a weekend-long barrage of texts.
Now it was Monday afternoon and it felt like forever since I'd been fucked. With the long, religious holiday weekend, John and I hadn't seen each other since Thursday, and that night had ended frustratingly - and without sex - when he broke my microwave. While I was changing in my room, I had invited him to heat a plate of leftovers for himself. John, trying to be chivalrous, had tried to reheat the whole containers of lo mein and sesame chicken for us, without noticing the foil liner to the takeout boxes. After hitting the "reheat" button, he'd walked away to take a work call, and so hadn't seen the ensuing sparks and fire until it was too late to save. When I'd returned, the kitchen was filled with acrid smoke, so that had ended any thoughts of bedroom activities for the night. Maintenance had been scheduled to come fix it this morning, but they hadn't shown up.
John didn't know the plans I had for him and our Easter Monday afternoon together. I'd only told him to come over as soon as he got off work. While my libido had me careening off the walls, I'd talked myself into some season-themed - if also a bit silly - shopping, and I expected he would enjoy the sweet treat.
Patting myself dry following my shower, I hung up the towel and stood naked at the vanity to do my makeup. I circled rich, coral lipstick onto my pouty lips, then puffed soft pink blush on my cheeks. After applying a generous, floral dousing of John's favorite perfume, I brushed smoky shadow in a wing behind each eye, finishing with dark eyeliner and mascara. John loved elaborate eye-makeup, and I was sure he'd enjoy today's show.
Returning naked to the bedroom, I dug through wads of pink tissue paper into the festively decorated shopping bag, seeking my purchases. Bending at the waist in front of the full-length mirror, I ran my hands excitedly up my silky-smooth legs, then allowed my fingertips to linger for a tantalizing extra second on the velvety outer lips of my bald-shaved muff. My heart fluttered excitedly, and I hurried to dress, casting a quick glance at the bedroom clock. It was two thirty; John should be off from work and on his way!
Stepping through the leg-holes of the romper, I tugged the sequined white fabric up my legs. Shimmying my hips into the elastic material, I pulled the strapless neckline up my tummy and fitted the stretchy top over my swollen bust. Turning in front of the mirror, I plucked the tapered, cheeky bottom from between my buns and fluffed the cottony white tail that sat atop my tailbone. I stepped into a pair of glittery white four-inch open-toed heels, watched the line of my legs lengthen and tone as I ascended the shoes. Finally, for a sexy, holiday lark, I affixed the white-fur headband with its long, fluffy bunny ears over my auburn locks.
The long-eared figure in the glass cut a lusty profile more evocative of Jessica Rabbit than Peter. The glittery fabric of my costume sparkled and winked in the afternoon sunlight as it bowed tightly over the sumptuous curves of my tits and ass. The shimmering romper was matched by the twinkling of the sequins on my high heels. Meanwhile, the cottontail rode adorably atop my perky buns, and the white bunny ears waved and bent innocently above my made-up face. I shook a few strands of long, red head free of the band, draping them seductively over my eye.
I felt warm longing in my belly that sank lower and seeped swelteringly between my legs. The thought of having my body touched and my gash filled made me groan out loud. Running my hands over my fabric-molded bulges, barely compressed inside the sequined bodysuit, I craved for my delicate hands to be replaced by stronger, masculine ones. My snatch quivered in anticipation, and I hoped that once John was here and inside me, his stamina would hold out long enough to satisfy my urgent, animal needs.
Checking the clock again, I gauged that John would likely be arriving any minute. I unlocked the front door, then retreated to the bedroom and splayed on the mattress, tossing myself across the bedspread as I decided on a seductive pose in which to greet him. My unfamiliar tail gave me trouble, but I rolled onto my stomach and scrambled onto my knees to boost my tufted bottom into the air. Aligning diagonally across the bed, my head faced the bedroom door. Sloping my back, I rested my upper body on my elbows, my breasts dangling inches above the quilt.
My springy tits fought the elastic concealment of my halter as gravity tugged at them below my ribs. Upon reaching the door to my bedroom, a visitor would be greeted by an eyeful of my pale, dangling breasts, billowing from beneath my costume. The ears and tail would appear as playful embellishments on a shamelessly sexual figure. I raised my legs, hoisting the sparkling heels and playfully crossing my ankles in the air behind me.
In the stillness of my empty apartment, I heard the elevator chime in the hall. I focused my smoldering, come-hither eyes on the doorway to the bedroom, ready to draw John in as he entered. Steps outside in the hall stopped at my front door, followed by a sharp knock. 'Why is John knocking?' I pondered inwardly but didn't dissect. The poor man was polite to a ridiculous fault.
"Come iiiiiin!" I called invitingly, a sultry undertone drawing out the second syllable. As I spoke, the "plunk" of a text sounded from my phone on the nightstand. The noise and flash drew my eyes as the text message popped on the screen. Riveted, I leaned forward to see the phone.
I read John's text, "I'm SO SORRY! I got stuck at work. Going to be a little bit late for our date! <3" Then who was at the do-
"Uh... You called maintenance?" The burly, wide-eyed repairman filled the doorframe of my bedroom.
"Fuck! Get out!" I screeched, charging off the bed and across the room, slamming the door in the poor, confused man's face.
Collapsing my back against the closed door, I hyperventilated, feeling my heaving tits threaten to burst out of my top as they rode my violently careening ribs. That wasn't Mr. Miller, the building's kindly, if sometimes unreliable, superintendent. That would have been uncomfortable enough, but the man who had seen my please-fuck-me getup was a total stranger. I reddened and shook my head in embarrassment.
At the same time, my naughty excitement lingered - even amplified! An exhibitionist thrill spread a naughty smile across my lips. Calming my breathing, I listened for activity on the other side of the door. I heard two deep, hushed male voices.
"What the fuck just happened?" from further down the hall.
"Well, she wasn't expecting 'us'... she's dressed as some kind of slutty bunny or something..." the man nearer to the door answered. His words dripped with surprise and amusement. His companion's question was unintelligible through the door.
The first man responded cheerily, "Yeah, I guess, hot enough... Great tits, though. They almost made me glad Miller's hip gave out." This was followed by a short bout of chuckling from both.
