She showed up at the after-party in a black satin bunny leotard so tight it looked painted on. The ears were tall and stiff, the tail a fluffy white puff right above her ass, and the fishnets stretched over thighs that flexed every time she walked. I watched her from the bar while she sipped a drink and scanned the room like she was hunting. When our eyes locked she didn’t smile—she licked her lower lip and headed straight for me.
“You look like you want to fuck a bunny,” she said, voice low and flat. No games. Her hand landed on my crotch and squeezed once, checking the goods. “Good. I’m wet already.”
We didn’t bother with names. She turned, walked toward the back hallway, and I followed. The second the bedroom door shut she shoved me onto the bed and climbed on, straddling my lap. The crotch of her leotard was already damp; she ground down hard so I could feel the heat through my jeans.
“Take your cock out,” she ordered. I unzipped. She reached between us, pulled the thin strip of fabric aside, and sank down in one smooth drop. Her pussy was tight, hot, and soaked. She didn’t moan—she grunted and started riding, hard and fast, the bunny ears bouncing with every slam of her hips.
“Fuck, that’s it,” she hissed. “Stretch me open. I want to feel it tomorrow.” Her gloved hands planted on my chest and she used the leverage to bounce harder, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the small room. The leotard dug into her thighs; every time she dropped the tail brushed my balls.
I grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back without pulling out. She laughed once, dirty and short, then spread her legs wider. I drove in deep, bottoming out against her cervix. She wrapped her fishnet calves around my waist and pulled me closer.
“Harder. Don’t be gentle with the bunny.”
I fucked her like that for minutes, pounding until the headboard slammed the wall. Her pussy clenched and fluttered but she didn’t come yet—she was holding out. When I slowed she shoved me off, rolled onto all fours, and looked over her shoulder.
“Pull the tail aside and fuck my ass. I want it raw.”
I spat on her hole, worked two fingers in first, then lined my cock up. She pushed back as I pushed forward, taking half my length in one shove. She growled into the pillow. I gripped the base of the fluffy tail and used it like a handle while I drilled her ass, watching the shiny black satin ride up between her cheeks.
“Deeper. Wreck it.” Her voice was ragged now. I gave her everything, hips slapping, balls swinging.
She reached under herself and rubbed her clit in fast circles. When she came her whole body locked, ass squeezing so tight I almost lost it. She didn’t stop moving; she kept rocking back, milking me.
I pulled out, flipped her again, and straddled her chest. She opened her mouth without being told and took my cock straight down her throat, bunny ears still perfectly upright. I fucked her face, saliva dripping down her chin onto the satin. When I pulled back she gasped, strings of spit connecting her lips to my shaft.
“Cum on the ears,” she said. “Mark the bunny.”
I jerked once, twice, and shot thick ropes across the black satin headband and the tall white ears. She kept her mouth open, catching what she could on her tongue, then licked the head clean while I twitched.
She didn’t move right away. She lay there catching her breath, costume soaked, ears glistening, tail crooked. After a minute she sat up, adjusted the leotard back over her pussy, and gave me a small, satisfied smirk.
“Same time next weekend,” she said. “Bring a friend if you want. I like being passed around.”
She walked out still wearing the ears. They were the only clean thing left on her.
