When my boss asked me to wear an Easter bunny costume for the holiday I thought I could easily do it.
When he said it was a private show for only two, I still thought it would be fun.
I had to think again when he said he wanted me to pee all over him while I wore that costume, but then how could I pass up an opportunity to piss off my boss. More
He led me through his office door, him closing it behind us, and indicated a plain white plastic bag lying in the middle of his desk, the opening side facing me. I reached and pulled it close.
“See if you think it will fit.”
Light grey furry material came out, attached to two grey white and pink bunny ears. As I stretched the garment out, I could see it made like a furry dress with short arms and a fitted hood where the large ears were attached. The dress hem was edged with a roll of pink fur with a large white pom-pom for a tail. One thing was very obvious - it was certainly on the small side.
“I had real trouble getting an adult size,” he said, looking over my shoulder.
“If I can get it on, it won’t leave anything to our imagination.” It would be lucky if the pom-pom tail made it to the small of my back.
“You’ll be a great bunny however it fits.” He was grinning when I looked over at him. “I better show you the special secret bunny warren.”
He opened a door to the left of his office and held the door open for me to go through. Sterile and white, and about half the size of his office, was a large bathroom. Closest on the left was a shower area, with a toilet further around. Then a basin with a large mirror and alongside, a towel rack with two white towels hanging. Close on the right was a plastic chair, white of course, piled with extra towels.
“I think there should be enough room,” His words coming from behind me.
“It’s nearly as big as my whole apartment.” Well not really, but it was big.
“I thought we’d undress in the office. Less potential for accidents.” Turning, I faced my boss closely for the first time. “Still game?”
“We need to see if that costume fits.”
He went to his side of the desk and bent down to start removing his shoes. I did the same on my side, arranging my things around the chair. Trying to keep my attention on what I was doing, I undressed everything but my bra and panties. Only then did I look up to the man across the desk from me. He was looking back at my face.
“Last easy place to stop,” he said very earnestly.
To answer, I reached behind my back and undid the clips on my bra before making a display of taking it down my shoulders to place it in the back of the seat alongside. Decision made, I used both hands to evenly slide my panty down, although the desk was blocking most of his view. I saw him bending down too copying my actions, his black and white stripped undies joining the pile on his leather chair. In the past, in the few occasions I’d been with a man like this, it had been very different and with very subdued lighting. The clinical office light was certainly not adding a feel of intimacy.
“I’m certainly no oil painting material,” My boss said, waving his hands down both sides of his body. “Let me get away from this damned desk.”
He walked to the side of the desk, and I copied him, standing fully face to face and barefooted on the commercial carpet. Without my heals he was shorter then me, but not by a lot, but his feet were much bigger than mine. He had a hairy chest with growing man-boobs, and his tummy was well on the way to become a paunch. Below his navel was a scar. A straight line puckering the skin with a dark red line. Unthinking, I reached a hand and traced the line with my fingers.
“Sorry,” I said when I realised what I was doing and pulled my hand back.
“War wounds. Don’t be sorry, I’m having plenty of trouble not touching.”
“I wouldn’t want to stop. Miss Summers, you’re a very beautiful woman, and I’m sure you know that.”