A Bunny Tail Continued

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#2 of Bunny Tails

I'd like to thank my friend St George's Horse for editing and doing some rewrite on my second story. He's such a sweetie. I changed a few things back to the way they were, so I hope he isn't mad. I think you all will like this one too, though there is less sex in it for the time being. There may be more in the next one, if I have time to write it.


I sipped my wine while he got dressed. He was glancing my way, and I had to fight the urge to cover my chest with the sheets. It was a normal reaction. His look wasn't lascivious, but more how I imagined a man might look at a lover he is leaving for the very first time. So I'm a romantic at heart. Sue me.

He tucked in his shirt and turned to me. "Young lady, I hope you won't take offense at my leaving, but if I stay in here and try to work on my papers, I can guarantee you I shall get nothing done. "

"Where are you going?"

"Just to the next room, the one we came into first. You are more than welcome to stay in here, though I might suggest not drinking too much wine. Clarets can go to your head if you're not used to imbibing them."

"Ok! I think I'll stay right here!" He smiled and left. It wasn't as if I would be missed for a while.

I was feeling all warm and glowy. I was trying to determine which part was the wine and which was the after effects of having had my first sexual experience. I set down my glass and leaned back. My hand ran to my crotch. It was wet and sticky. My fingers came away tinged with red. I ignored the color and put my hand back down there. I toyed with myself for a moment, feeling my fingertips inside me. I had played with myself in the past, but never like this. I was always afraid of ruining myself, whatever that meant. Now my fingers had free range.

I was wishing I had something as long and as hard as he had used on me so that I could play some more with myself. I looked around the room without seeing anything I could use. He had all kinds of things, most of them really old looking. I was afraid to touch most of it for fear of breaking something. He had books on ancient history sitting in piles, and stuff that looked like they belonged in them. Ancient history had up to this point had meant, in my mind, the childhood days of my parents.

I walked around his desk (he had two) and spied a wooden letter opener. It was rounded on the end, the wood was highly polished, and the whole this was over a foot long. It was perfect. I swallowed my glass of, what had he called, it? Oh yes, claret. I went back to the bed and worked the tip of it in. The blade portion was thin, but it didn't cut my hand. I pushed it in, lifting my hips as I did. I had read stories where a female character did things like this, but for me it was completely new and forbidden. In case you can't guess, I had a strict and prudish upbringing.

The wood was kind of cold when compared to his hot piece of flesh. It was also much stiffer. I had to carefully slide it in while my legs were raised. With one hand on it, I used the fingers from my free hand to stimulate myself. I had never dared try this before but now I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

I pushed the wooden rod in until it stopped. The edge of the blade was just at my opening so I figured it was a good thing that it went no deeper. I rubbed my little bump, sending little sparks of electricity through me. I used the rod like a piston, pulling it out and allowing it to sink in again until I had a nice rhythm going. My fingers increased their speed, rubbing my tender parts until I came.

My orgasm was so quick to come that I wasn't expecting it. One moment I was happily pleasuring myself and the next, bang, I was shaking and shuddering. Worse of all, I got vocal. I couldn't tell you what sound I made, but whatever it was, it drew him in from the next room.

When I opened my eyes he was staring down at me with a look of amusement on his face. "If you keep this up little one, I will never get any work done today." He sat down on the bed while I covered my head with a pillow. I was so embarrassed!

That lasted for a brief second. The letter opener was still inside me, and I could feel pressure on it. I about jumped. He had gotten a hold of it and was gently pushing it in. He was taking over where I had left off! My hands went to his.

"I don't think I can take any more!" It was an honest plea.

"You can always take more my dear. What happens is that you fight the pleasure as it takes over your body. Since you seem to have so much energy flowing through you right now, it behooves me to drain it from you so that I can work."

He worked the wooden rod in, tilting it upwards at times, and then lowering it the other direction. When he did that, I could feel a weird sensation in my butt. At other times, it seemed to rub something just the right way inside me. It was a lot like my little button, but deeper inside and much more sensitive. He called it a Grafenberg spot. It was only later that I found out this is what everyone else just calls the G spot.

I didn't care what it was called. It felt like my own little slot in heaven. If that weren't enough, he got his fingers involved and I was soon lost in what he was doing. I don't remember a whole lot. He said it was probably the wine. But what I do remember made a lasting impression on me. To this day I have been unable to achieve the pleasure of that initial day of being initiated into my first real sexual experience. I think he set a rather high standard for anyone else to meet. But I was young and naïve. I failed to understand that at the time.

When I came to later, he was gone. I was sure he was in the next room. I decided I had better get cleaned up and found to my amazement that overall I was in pretty good shape. I went to use his bathroom and noticed a towel that was stained with red. He had cleaned me up! And I was so out of it I never noticed!

I peed and observed that the water was pinkish. My initial thought was that I was still bleeding. I vacillated between running out and asking him, and simply sucking it up. After all, I thought to myself, just a short while ago I was going to jump off of a building. A little bleeding wasn't going to kill me.

I sat down on the bed, avoiding the rather large red stain that I had left. I actually felt pretty good right about now. I had assumed my first time was going to be sloppy and icky. I mean, I figured whoever was going to be my partner was going to be as inexperienced as me. I imagined all kinds of uncomfortable scenarios. Heck, I think this guy was older than my dad. He didn't act it, but he looked it. Experience was his middle name.

Let me say again that he didn't act as old as he looked. My dad moped around the house like a gorilla and my mom only read the bible and watched television. It makes me laugh now to think that she would watch the trashiest shows, and then go to church on Sunday like she was the Virgin Mary. I wasn't so much abused at home as I was ignored. It was like no one wanted me around. Just so you know, I hated going to church. It was boring and stupid. I'm all for doing onto others as you would wish them to do onto you, but I saw people leave church and speed off, nearly hitting other people, all because they wanted to get to the restaurant before everyone else. I hardly called that a good attitude.

Mr. Marcus seemed smart. He was bright eyed and he was interested in me. It wasn't the sex he was interested in, it was me. I was thinking that maybe I had acted too brashly in making my request. I guess I figured he was a liar like so many others had been. He certainly proved me wrong!

I got dressed and went out into the other room. He was writing furiously on his papers. He didn't need to look up.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"I was feeling fine before!"

"Allow me to rephrase my question. Has your libido settled sufficiently to within controllable parameters?"

I chuckled. "You use an awful lot of big words!"

"I think I mentioned that words can have power. I would suggest, if you intend to live out your life in any satisfactory manner, that you invest in a dictionary and see what you're missing. You youngsters and your cell phones. You have no idea what worlds you destroy when you abbreviate the English language to mere letters. Could you imagine reading Homer in text -speak?"

I didn't know who Homer was. That was then. Now I do. And Dickens, and Keats, and Michener, and dozens of other authors and poets. I was once limited by the world I could see. He showed me how to view the world as a whole. Soon after I couldn't get enough to read. I went to the library constantly, taking out all kinds of books. All my teachers noticed how my grades improved. I never gave them an explanation. How could I?

But for now, I was still in his office. "If you're asking if I'm still horny, the answer is no. That's not to say I wouldn't do it again...if you're willing."

He smiled. "With a lovely thing such as yourself? I would be a fool to not accept such an offer. However, I must sadly decline until I finish grading. I have many students, and they must take many tests. And I must grade them all!" he said with a sigh.

I grabbed a pen. "Can I help?"

He cracked his back. "It would be appreciated. But I did not save you from yourself to act as my servant."

"I want to help. If you get done sooner, maybe you can show me a few more things?"

"That is an excellent idea!" He wrote out a grading key, handed over a red pen, and told me how to write the results. Soon I was grading college tests! From time to time I would read a question and its answer. I had no idea there was so much I didn't know. From the looks of some of the poor grades, neither did his students.

It took us about an hour to finish them up, and he took some more time to make certain I hadn't inadvertently messed up grading them. By the time he was finished entering the grades into his computer, I was getting tired of waiting.

He gave me a wink. "I must show you my appreciation for your excellent help. Do you have any suggestions?"

I did, but had no idea where to start. "Anything like what've done already would be just fine. I don't know that much about sex."

"Ahh. The lady admits to not knowing everything. At your age, that's a major step in breaking through ignorance. Allow me to show you a few things. I find there's nothing quite like a hands on demonstration to enlighten the mind."

He led me back to the bed. He flipped the blanket and comforter over the stain and motioned for me to sit. With deliberate care he unbuttoned my blouse again and undid my bra. He smiled as if he were gazing upon a favorite painting. It wasn't lewd or lascivious, just joyous and welcoming. It was as if he were viewing a beautiful sunset, or a lovely flower. I think he was also reading my mind.

"The French have a saying. It's vive la difference. It's what keeps coming to my mind."

"What does it mean?"

He wrinkled his nose. "It means "long live the difference" and was said in regard to the fact that there isn't much difference between men and women, but that the difference was worth celebrating. In this case, I happen to be placing every line of your body, from your long lovely ears to your bountiful bosom into my memory. There will come a day when I'll not see you again, and when that day comes, I'll have you with me still."

At that moment he about needed a mop, because I felt myself melt. No one had ever spoken so kindly and so sweetly as this man. I was finding it easy to ignore that fact that he wasn't even like me. It was strange really. I mean, I went to a school full of all kinds of kids, from the bulky Ursines to the little rodents. Interspecies dating was allowed, but a feline and a lagomorph, especially an older one, was pushing the boundaries.

All I could manage to do was blush and stutter.

"You've really had no one to give you the attention you deserve, have you?"

What was I going to say? "Not like this."

"Well, you are young, and I remember when I was a youngster. All hormones and hot blood. Still, I think we knew how to treat one another better than you do today. And I had supportive parents. That was a great asset."

"Are you saying that you had sex when you were my age?"

"What? Did you think that because it was a long time ago the rules changed?" He laughed. "A teenager back then had just as much desires and urges as you do today. It's simply that your parents and grandparents want more for you, and so they make it seem as though their life was better behaved." I must have had an incredulous look on my face.

He laughed again. "I know of several girls that had to go live with their aunts because they got pregnant. It still happens today, though for the love of life I don't know why. You have more prophylactics available then we ever did, and it's easier for you to get them."

That thought made my heart skip. I was having unprotected sex!

Again he read my mind. "I have grown children dear. After the last one was born I had a vasectomy. I love kids but I'm also wise enough to know when to quit. Apparently so did your mother, unless there are a dozen more of you out there. Besides, I don't think our biologies would mesh."

"I have two sisters. They're both older and out of the house. They left as quickly as they could."

"A house with no love is a poor house indeed."

"Are you saying that you love me?"

That took him aback. "No, I would never be so foolish as to say that. Love is a special thing, and not to be taken lightly."

"But you just said you have kids of your own. That means you have a wife!"

"Had. I had a wife. She died of cancer last year."

I suddenly felt dirty. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"First off, you didn't ask. Second of all, it doesn't matter."

"Why doesn't it matter?" My nose was twitching.

"Because she would have approved of me saving your life. True, it turned out far differently than I expected, but for that I'm eternally grateful. To be honest with you, I haven't had sex in several years. My wife and I enjoyed a passionate time in bed, but once she started chemo, her body became too fragile for it. She actually told me to look for action outside of our marriage."

"Did you?"

"Heavens no! There is no point in getting married if you don't feel the need to commit. Marriage had nothing to do with metal rings or documents; it has everything to do with what is in one's heart. If your marriage is not anchored in love, it will float away and you will forever be adrift."

He might not be in love with me, but I was quickly feeling weak in the knees. This guy sounded a hundred times smarter than anyone else I had ever known. He also took me for who I was, and adored my body instead of lusting after it. Trust me, I could tell the difference, even then. Most of the guys at school wouldn't have been talking, that would have taken what they wanted and then discussed it in the locker room. I felt I could tell this guy anything and he would never breathe a word of it to anyone.

I was melting for real on the inside. Tears came to my eyes. I felt like an idiot.

He pulled me in close and held me. He didn't fondle me or anything. He just hugged me for like ten minutes while my tears streamed down his shirt. He handed me a handkerchief for me to daub my eyes. I even had to use it to blow my nose. My ears felt hot and flushed, and my whiskers were twitching uncontrollably.

"I don't get it. Why are you so nice to me?"

"Why, do you feel like you're receiving special treatment?"

I got kind of mad. "Yes! You wouldn't take just any girl to bed would you?"

"No. But then again, outside of my wife you're the first that's ever asked me. So I can honestly say it's never come up before. You set the conditions for this, not me!"

He was right. I had opened my mouth. I was glad I had. "So, you're saying you did this simply to make me happy?"

"Oh youngsters! They think they know everything! Look my sweet little thing; I saw someone in distress and I came to their rescue. I did it because it was the right thing to do. What has transpired since that moment has been a wonderful experience for an old man, and from what I can tell, it hasn't been lost on you either. But be careful placing more importance on it that it deserves. You are very vulnerable right now and I don't want you thinking that this is any more than it is."

"And what is that exactly?"

I guess I had him there. He lost his tongue. He just stared at for a bit, biting his lip. He finally found some words. "I guess I don't know. I started off with good intentions and look where I'm at now."

So he wasn't so sure of himself. "Yes, look where you are. With me. You're the first person who has ever been nice to me, and you're the first to make me feel like I'm worth something. If you think that you've taken something from me, understand that I gladly gave it. And I'll continue to do so for as long as you like!"

"That is a magnanimous offer young lady, but not one I can accept. A day of dalliance is fine, and maybe even two, but after a while it becomes problematic. I would suggest that if we are to get to know on another better, in the physical sense, then perhaps we had better do it now.

I was all for it. I stood up and dropped my pants and panties. He shook his head and chuckled. "Still in a rush. So much will pass you by in life if you maintain such an attitude. Take your time and enjoy things. You only live once so I would suggest you get the most out of it."

I thought about it later. I wasn't trying to rush things. I was trying to make up for what I had never had. It wasn't just the sex. It was physical and emotional contact with someone I could trust. Please don't ask me why I trusted him. The unkind might say he was just using me, but I know that wasn't the case. He genuinely cared. If not, he probably would have had his way with me and sent me back to the roof.

I shivered a little, causing my nipples to harden almost painfully. He pushed me down on the bed and stepped back and undressed again. He was fairly handsome, now that I thought about it. I was used to images in magazines and television commercials of what I was supposed to find attractive. I already knew that any of the guys my age that dressed well were probably gay, and of the rest, either assholes or nerds. I'm not trying to be mean. Some of my friends were nerds. It's just that they were gawky and definitely immature.

This guy was sure of himself. That made me surer of myself. When my depression wasn't holding sway over my emotions, I often thought about what my wedding night might be like. I decided that this was as close to my dream as it was ever going to get. It was too bad I hadn't worn white today but dark colors always suited my mood better.

He slipped into the bed with me, his hands gliding along my side. He stroked my ears, sending more shivers down my spine. He kissed my nose, making me giggle and sneeze. It hardly seemed romantic, but he smiled and held me tight. He told me later he liked that I didn't put on a show. Everything I did was natural, and in his eyes, very romantic indeed. I realized later on that it must have been exciting for him too, breaking in a young girl. He may not have said it, but maybe it made him feel young again. I guess maybe I was good for something.

I tried to relax and not get too excited. It was pretty hard. Like he said, I was in a rush. Instead of getting straight to business, he held me in his arms and gently kissed me. I kissed him back, at one point nearly drawing blood with my teeth. My ears kept getting in the way too, but he dismissed these as minor inconveniences. "Never sweat the small stuff my dear. Life will throw you curve balls at every available opportunity. Things like this soon pass out of memory."

He was wrong. I remember each and every detail like it happened yesterday. I won't say how long ago it was, but it has been a while now. Nothing has come close to that day full of discovery and new found hope.

He nuzzled my neck, sending tingles across my skin. My fingers found his manhood. I needed to be doing something in return, and this was all I could think of. He responded by groaning a little. At least it showed that he had as much desire in him as I did in me. I used my velvety paws to stroke him. He was already pretty hard and I seemed to finish the job. He was rock hard now and all I wanted was for him to bring me over the top again.

He sighed, I think because of my impatience, and positioned himself between my legs. He smiled and worked his arms through my legs, getting my big feet under his armpits and twisting his hands on the inside of my thighs. With a careful shove I could feel him poke me before that wonderful feeling came over me. I could feel his manhood sinking in, filling me up. It was wonderful. There was no pain, and I hoped no blood this time. There was only the amazing feeling of being connected with someone like I had never done before. This day shattered even my best expectations.

He pressed against me, trying to get in as far as he could. I wanted to sit up and grabbed him to help. At the moment I was pretty much helpless. His grip was strong and determined. I put my hands above my head and put the palms flat against the wall. I had a feeling he might have more strength than he had yet shown. I was right.

He started off slowly, which I found enjoyable. He would pull just out, teasing me a little before pushing back in. Each time he did, I tried to push my hips up and put him back in. It was driving me crazy. Why didn't he just stay inside?

The reason was simple. He knew it would drive me crazy. He was right. From time to time he would push in all the way, leave it pressed in tight, before pulling back up again. His actions drove me to the top in no time, only instead of releasing me in a flood of erotic sensations, it kept me hanging over the precipice. It was like he knew what he was doing. I was too preoccupied to think of it at the time, but later on I reflected on what a lucky woman his wife had been.

At one point it was so difficult to handle I wiggled my feet and legs loose and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him down on top of me. I then took my legs and wrapped them around his back and held on tight. I kissed him fiercely, ignoring his rather sharp canines. I wanted to say so many things, but I couldn't find the right words. I guess it wasn't the right time for words, only action. I desperately wanted that as well. And I was determined to get it.

While it would have been easier if I had been on top, I still managed to get some movement going from where I was. I hardly noticed the rug burn developing just above my powder puff tail. It was all he could do to keep in me. I turned into a blur. They say bunnies do everything fast, and maybe their right. The truth was I was tired of waiting. I needed it bad and I wanted it now! I was pounding against him with all my might. I could feel the tip of his manhood repeatedly knocking on the door to my womb. And it was driving me crazy.

I think I about broke his neck when I came. I was speeding along when it hit me out of the blue. One minute I was trying to force it to happen and the next; it hit me like a jolt of electricity. I let of a cry and tensed up hard. I think I heard his neck creaking under the strain of my grip. My hips were flying so fast I nearly worked us both off of the bed. During all of this he was pretty much holding still. I don't think I left much room for him to do anything. Besides, he was the patient one. When I was done he could do as he pleased.

As it was, it felt like I was peeing. I could feel the material under me grow wet, and my tail soon was damp. When I was done my arms dropped to my sides and my legs slid off his back to land onto the bed. I was spent! He cracked his neck a little, gave me a kiss and said, "Well, now that that's over, how about we get started?"