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This is the second in my “(insert holiday name) Birthday” series. It started with “Valentine Birthday” for the associated contest. There was no Easter contest, but I had written this story in advance, so here it is for your reading pleasure.
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“Hurry up or you’ll be late, daddy.”
Why do I let my daughter get me into these things? I didn’t want to play the Easter Bunny, on the Sunday of the big game. I wanted to be sitting on the sofa, feet up, popcorn and munchies at the ready with my favorite beverage, cold, on the table. Instead, I’d be sweltering inside of an old smelly flea-bitten rabbit suit, passed down from volunteer to volunteer never getting cleaned or deodorized in the process.
I drove to Hayes Park, parked, and carried the suit inside a large plain bag, made out of an old sheet decades ago. My daughter ran off to partake of the festivities, which were mostly helping little kids find candy that had been strewn all over the park earlier in the day.
“Oh, Mr. Marcus, so good of you to volunteer,” greeted Mrs. Blanton, organizer of the event and mother of Marci, one of my daughter’s close friends.
“You can dress over in Mr. Bunny’s Hutch.”
She pointed to a small building over on the side of the clearing where the kids were searching for goodies. I made my way over, noticing that there were several Bunny helpers, also in costume. They were all females, wearing very short skirts that stuck out almost horizontally from their waists, form fit colored bustiers that stopped short of the neck, and perky ears mounted on headbands.
I entered Bunny’s Hutch. On the advice of a previous stuckee, I took off everything except t-shirt and jockey shorts, since I was advised it got very warm inside the suit. The only ventilation came from some screened areas on the oversized rabbit head, the same ones used for seeing. I put my clothes to one side and exited the small building, bending over so I wouldn’t rip the ears off my costume head.
“Oh, Mr. Easter Bunny, are you ready? Here is your basket of goodies. Make sure you circulate. I’ll ask one of the helpers to lead you around. You probably can’t see very well from inside there, now can you?”
I grunted a “No.”
“Marci, oh Marci, would you please escort Mr. Easter Bunny around and make sure that every child gets some goodies? Thank you dear.”
All I could see out of my ventilation holes was Marci’s chest, swaying back and forth behind the plastic covering.
“Come on, Mr. Marcus, let me take the lead.”
“Heck of a way to spend the day, huh?”
“Yeah, especially if you’re birthday.”
I remembered my encounter with Breann and swallowed hard. That wouldn’t happen this time, I promised myself, despite the memories of Breann that caused a tingling between my legs.
Marci would lead me over to a group of kids who güvenilir bahis would ignore me but attack the basket of candy on my arm. Every once in a while, Marci would bend over to hand out candy to the little ones, and I’d get a great look at her panties behind sticking out from her petticoat and skirt. I was getting aroused from these sneak peaks. The heat building up inside the suit didn’t help things any.
“Can I take a break? It’s awfully hot in here,” I whispered to Marci.
“Oh, sure, Mr. Marcus, you can take five in the Bunny Hutch.”
Marci led me over to the building. I almost forgot to duck and nearly ripped the ears off the headpiece. There was a small folding chair, so I sat down and took a load off. The suit was heavier than I thought. The zipper on the front of the suit was installed backwards. It started at the crotch and ended at the neck. To ventilate, I unzipped from the bottom up to my lower chest. I took off the head, stood up and looked out the window. Marci was still passing out candy, bending over frequently to greet the kids at their own level. I watched her legs and exposed ass, unconsciously rubbing myself through my jockeys. There was a fantasy brewing, and I couldn’t help it. I pulled my erection from my underwear, sat back down, closed my eyes, and pictured Marci’s scantily clad ass waving back and forth in front of me.
“Are you almost – oh my! Mr. Marcus!”
I had a visitor. Marci, in the flesh. She stared at my erection.
“You’re as big as Breann said, maybe bigger.”
“I’m sorry, Marci, I’ll just put it back -“
“What got you so horny, Mr. Marcus? Tell the truth.”
Marci stood with her hands on her hips, legs slightly spread.
“Uh, well, you see, that costume you’re wearing, it’s kind of -“
“You mean I got you that excited? Oh wow! Can I touch it?”
“Gee, I don’t know if that’s such a good -“
Marci was on her knees in front of me in a flash, her hands all over my stiffening erection, rubbing up and down eagerly.
“I haven’t gotten my goodies today,” Marci said, and took the head of my dick in her mouth.
I groaned and slid down in the chair. Her tongue was touching all of the sensitive spots.
“Ooh, Marci, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
“Sure I do. We learned it in school. Listen, Mr. Marcus, I’ve never had sex before and I don’t really want to fuck, at least with that. Could you, you know, use your finger?”
What harm could my finger do? This was an educational opportunity for the young lady. A birthday present, even. Marci turned her back to me, pulled her panties to one side, and positioned herself for an assault from the rear. I reached in between her smooth, firm thighs and played with her cunt lips, using her natural lubrication as I moved my finger up and back, in and out. Marci was rocking on my finger, taking türkçe bahis it deeper by her movements.
“Oh, wow, this feels really good. Breann said she took your penis inside. Did she really do that?”
“Yes, Marci, but I didn’t think it was a very good idea.”
“Oh, I understand, I really do. Why, you could have accidentally gotten Breann pregnant if you had an orgasm inside her.”
I swallowed hard, deciding not to tell her that I shot my load up her friend’s cunt. Marci was humping faster.
“Mr. Marcus, can you please do two fingers?
I added a digit to Marci’s experiment.
“Oh, it gets better with more.”
Marci was bouncing now. I wished she were facing me, so I could watch her breasts pop out over the front of her costume.
“Mr. Marcus, I really want to feel something bigger. Could you just put, like, the tip of your penis inside me. Not all the way. Just a little bit, just so I can see how it feels?”
“No, Marci, that’s not a good idea. What would happen if -“
Ignoring my answer, she reached back for my penis, the head wet with precum. She held my erection steady as she lowered herself so my wet knob was just in between her cunt lips, no more than half and inch.
“You know, you could really fill a girl up with that thing,” Marci hissed.
She shook her hips slightly from side to side, adjusting herself on the very tip of my throbbing erection.
“Just keep it there. Don’t go any deeper.”
Not fucking another of my daughter’s friends was just fine with me.
“This is the best birthday present a girl could get,” she said.
“Happy birthday,” I croaked, stifling my erotic inclinations to pull her onto my lap and giving her my full length.
The door to the Hutch burst open and Mrs. Blanton stormed in.
“Marci, what are you doing?”
Marci startled and plopped down in my lap, burying my erection all the way into her uninitiated cunt.
Marci was speechless, holding back a yelp of pain or a shout of joy. I stepped in, to save both of us.
“We were, uh, I was just practicing for Christmas. Didn’t you know I’ve volunteered to be Santa this year?”
I hadn’t, but what other explanation was there for her daughter to be perched in my lap?
“Well, you certainly need the practice. The children sit on your knee, not your lap. And Marci, sit like a lady. Put your knees together.”
Marci did as she was told, trapping my hot penis. It throbbed with the pressure.
Mrs. Blanton left as suddenly as she had arrived.
“I’m really sorry, Marci.”
ÔIt isn’t your fault, Mr. Marcus. But as long as you’ve gone this far, can you finish up? I mean, having you inside feels really good, but Breann told me it felt really good when you went in and out.”
Marci started to pump up and down, güvenilir bahis siteleri using her hands on my knees for leverage. I brought my costumed hands up to cop a feel of her breasts.
“Get your paws off me,” she said.
I pulled my hands back.
“No, I mean, if you want to touch me, don’t do it with the bunny paws. Use your bare hands.”
I reached behind the plastic breastplate and fondled her tits, rubbing her nipples on each pass. I was getting close to shooting my load.
“Uh, Marci, I’m getting close.”
“Close to what?” she moaned.
“Oh, Marci, I’m gonna cum. I need to pull out now.”
“Not just yet. One more minute.”
I wasn’t going to last another minute. The feeling of Marci’s tight cunt and my erection rubbing against the scratchy material and zipper were too much to ignore. I was on the verge, desperate for relief.
“Well, maybe if I unzip a little more, I can reduce the pressure and go on for a little longer.”
“I’ve got it, Mr. Marcus.”
Marci reached down between my legs and found the zipper. She gave a yank down, to increase the opening.
Marci didn’t know the zipper was installed backwards. The metal teeth of the zipper were firmly implanted in the skin of my erection. The pain caused my dick to throb. The throbbing sent even more blood into my erection. The erection got even harder, and I lost it. My balls compressed, sending a load of sperm up into Marci’s warm pussy. Marci took advantage of the added lubrication and rode it faster and deeper, which in turn caused second and third spurts.
Marci gradually stood up, wobbling from our sexual encounter.
“Wow, I didn’t know I could get that juicy.”
She repositioned her panties. I knew they’d be soaked with my cum almost instantly. I gently pulled the zipper up and examined my shrinking erection for damage. There was a small blood clot where the zipper had grabbed the skin and broken some blood vessels. I’d be okay. I put my pecker back into my jockeys, slimy as it was and zipped back down to cover myself.
“Ready for another round with the young ones?” Marci asked.
“Uh, yeah, okay,” I muttered.
I donned the headgear and left the building, again on Marci’s arm. Mrs. Blanton came over to see how we were doing. Her nose picked up an unusual smell.
“We really must get that suit cleaned after this event,” she said to no one in particular.
After she left, I advised Marci to clean herself up before her mother drove her home.
“After all, you’ll never be able to explain how your panties smell like an old Easter Bunny suit.”
When all of the kids had more than enough candy to rot their teeth, the event was over. I packed up the suit and dressed in my street clothes. My daughter accosted me with a large bag of candy in her hand.
“Didn’t you get any goodies, Daddy?” she asked.
“Yes, dear, but I finished them here,” I replied, looking over at Marci leaving the park with her mother.
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Please write and tell me what holidays you’d like included in the series.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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