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Spring, the vibrant renewal and new beginnings season brings forth budding flowers and warmer temperatures. Spring also happens to be the time when silly bunnies leave the safeness of their burrows in the hopes of producing offspring, all eager, careless, and vigorously horny. Chance is a male buck, young, but fully grown into his hide, and is plump with pheromones, too libidinous to even think about anything other than the surging testosterone pumping through his arteries. So driven by the need to breed, even to think that a predator may be pursuing his tracks, a naive, sweet-smelling bunny is precisely what Mafioso has been searching for; the mere thought sends a delightful twitch through his nose.
Mafioso is eagerly ready, overproducing saliva with a hunger only another is his kind can still. His nose is filled with a sweet scent, a delicate blend of rich cinnamon, and the strong aroma of earthy honey, overwhelming his senses. The cinnamon offers a warm, inviting sweetness that is just asking to be bred. Another part of his anatomy pulses to life, causing the thrill of the chase to become all the more exhilarating.
The sex ridden hormones led him to a relatively small, log cabin surrounded by the dense woodland forest. As Mafioso pushes open the creaking door, a thick and intoxicating scent of arousal wafts into the air, growing stronger with each passing second. The rich, savory aroma guides him unerringly toward his target. There lies the bunny, nestled cozily among thin sheets and soft blankets, its long ears laid flat against its head in a posture of both uncomfortability and alertness. The warmth of the fabric embraces the small frame while the rapid rise and fall of its tiny body hints at the erotic rhythm of its breathing.
Pretty little squeals leak from his mouth, their high-pitched calls send signals directly to Mafioso's growing bulge. His pointed, erect ears twitched eagerly at the sight of the fluffy bunny before him, the soft fur shimmering in the filtered sunlight. With each tiny movement of the creature, his senses heighten, and whines of discomfort assault his sensitive ears.
Mafioso observes with piqued interest. The act of stroking one's own cock, whether it be a gentle caress or a more vigorous motion, flows seamlessly from the beginning to the end. However, this action is marked by an erratic rhythm, weaving unpredictably between moments of tenderness and bursts of passionate intensity. Right now, however, there is no passion or tenderness, only pure, unbridled lust.
Chance is unaware of the figure looming over his bedside, focusing solely on himself, as a strange mix of annoyance and sex drive washes over him, leaving him blissfully unaware of the silent observer's intent. He touches himself, not caring who or what he attracts with his mating calls. All he can think about now is the intense boiling in the pit of his stomach, like a fluid lava churning inside him. It feels as though a relentless heat is slowly consuming him, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. With each passing second, the discomfort grows more unbearable, as if his insides are being scorched, leaving him desperate for relief.
A thick, gray pool of fluid seeped into the crumpled sheets, the fabric greedily absorbing its dampness. Mafioso watches the miniature, fluffy tail bob with each stroke of his hand, trying his hardest to soothe the stuck heat. A loud, throaty wail pierces the air, and more fluids spray onto the textured sheets, accompanied by squeals and whimpers. The bunny, his ears pinned back against his head as he pants heavily. Each breath came in fleeting gasps, and his heart raced wildly in his chest, beating a mile a minute.
The temporary relief felt like heaven; nevertheless, Chance knew better than to let his guard down, the sickening heat would soon return.
In his fleeting moments of clarity, a strange and unfamiliar scent wafts delicately into Chance's nostrils, filling the air with an elusive blend of earthy spices and faint floral notes that stirred his senses into a frenzy. His nose twitches, smelling the same-sex pheromones he produces, however, these were thicker and more defined, than that of a mature rabbit.
His erect ears twitch in the older rabbit's direction before his eyes soon follow suit. His instincts rat out the presence of another creature, and an instinctive spark of fear mixes in with his natural scent. Mafioso holds back the laugh rippling on his tongue, those beaty, perfect, wide eyes stare blankly, burning his cheeks into a pleasant rosy hue.
"It seems like you could use some help, bunny," Mafioso perceives, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Your scent is quite strong, it may give some people the wrong idea."
Chance averts his eye from where the older rabbit stood, trembling pitifully, shaking his head. Mafioso cocks his head slightly to the side, a gesture that betrays a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Was it truly wise to reject such a tempting offer? Given the precarious nature of his current position within the heat cycle, maintaining that defiant stance would not hold for much longer.
"No?" Mafioso muses, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He watches the bunny before him, noticing how the soft fur bristles slightly in response to the flutter of rogue pheromones in the air. It's clear to him that this bunny is inexperienced, likely new to the overwhelming sensations that accompany a daunting heat cycle. Still, he reminds himself that first impressions can often be misleading.
He settles onto the edge of the mattress, the old springs protesting beneath his weight with a creak, as if they are voicing their curiosity. With a casual tilt of his head, Mafioso leans forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with playful interest.
"What's your name, bunny?" he asks, his voice smooth yet laced with undeniable authority. The bunny fidgets, unable to meet his gaze directly. Anticipation looms overhead, which makes the moment feel almost electric. Mafioso doesn't have to wait long; a soft, timid squeak breaks the silence, revealing the bunny's name. "Chance." The name rolls off his tongue like a sweet melody, and he can't help but appreciate its delicate charm. Such a pretty name for a creature that stirs something deep within.
"Chance," the name falls soothingly from Mafioso's lips like melted butter. "You seem a little too excited to be denying my help."
At first, Chance was a bit skeptical, questioning the intentions behind it all. However, as the warmth enveloped him once more, it gradually began to take hold of his thoughts, shifting his perspective and swaying his mind toward a more favorable view. The heat was not just physical; it ignited something within him, stirring a sense of desire and possibility. "Are you really going to help me with this? I'd appreciate it."
He's more confident putting his body in the hands of a total stranger instead of reliving that hellish experience. Chance spreads his legs and voices, "Whatever you're going to do, just make it quick."
Mafioso swallows the overflow of drool salivating in his maw, he gawks, the alluring sight placing him under a spell. Dribbles of transparent slick gush from the bunny's pulsing hole, begging desperately to be bred; to be stuffed with batter and courted. Meanwhile, Mafioso, with a nod of approval and a gleam in his eye, readily accepted the invitation to partake in the ritual.
There's something purely animalistic about what the smaller bunny sparks in him, like a mindless animal only acting on the instinct to mate. Why does something as random and innocent as this creature make him unravel at the seams? Compelling him to rut his fingers into the tight, damp hole, ramming the digits inside like a beast wearing human skin. A dignified boss of an elite mafia organization, a criminal mastermind, and a master of chaos, now reduced to a horny little mess fingering a stranger's womb with the intent of elevating his rut. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Mafioso wasn't thinking at this point. The only thing repeating like a broken record is the urge to breed, over and over, with each driven thrust; to ram himself inside and deposit his seed deep within the crevices. The wet, sloshy sounds of fingers working the insides of his tight asshole bounce like tennis balls off the cabin walls.
On occasion, the old bed's frame would emit an unsettling creak, as if ready to give way at any moment. That, and the bunny's grunts and whines, biting into his lip to keep the words "fuck me harder" from being spoken into existence. The lewd squelch of the juices against his finger almost made him cum on the spot.
Chance groans, and an unexpected display of need is showcased.
The bunny, aroused and itching for some action, reaches down towards his connecting center, the hand snake between his milky thighs, stretching himself wide open before inserting a digit into the abyss. Chance can't suppress the delighted squeals that escape his lips, each one bursting forth like a joyous explosion. Now crammed with four imposing fingers, Mafioso may have misjudged the resilience of this innocent bunny, who, despite its tender appearance, harbors a surprising willpower and desire within.
Mafioso gently curls his fingers, nudging lightly against the inner wall to produce a major reaction. The breathless bunny felt an overwhelming wave of sensation wash over him, causing his legs to twitch involuntarily. Each pulse seems to resonate through his body, sending electric sparks coursing through his veins. He struggles to catch his breath, as throaty, slut produce moans echo through the still air. There and then, Mafioso knew he hit the jackpot.
"It's right here, can you feel it?" Mafioso asks, once again applying just the right amount of pressure to send the bunny's mind spinning. "A receptive male such as yourself isn't much different from a female, but males can get excited with their prostate is stimulated." Chance's eyebrows knit with a blend of confusion and suspicions.
"You'll be impregnated if a dominant's semen ends up in here, is that understood?" Mafioso pauses, letting the heavy silence stretch between them, as his words hang in the air with a weight that demands attention. The spot where his womb lies dormant begins to ache, a persistent curling pain that sends goosebumps along Chance's skin.
"Now don't be ridiculous... there's no way..." Chance says, trying to grasp the concept of a man getting impregnated by another man, exists far outside of his comprehension. Mafioso let out a deep empathetic sigh, his expression heavy with a mix of disappointment and concern. "It's truly a shame," he remarks, shaking his head slowly. "You don't even seem to understand the intricacies of your own body. There's so much more, and I can teach you."
The fingers continuously pump in and out until finally, Mafioso's pruned fingers slip from moist tissues that line the squirming bunny's cavities. Just as he's about to fully withdraw his hand, a sudden grip tightens around his wrist, preventing his escape. He glances down to see a firm, determined hand holding his own, its touch both unexpected and unnerving. The pressure increased slightly, "You're...you're gonna take it out?" Chance let out an exasperated huff, the sound barely masking the slight whine in his voice. The displeasure quickly caught the attention of the rabbit nearby, his ears perked up in interest, twitching as they tried to decode the bunny's needy whimpers.
The smaller guides the hand, yearning for touch as he positions it back at his opening. Without lifting so much as a finger, Mafioso's two digits effortlessly glide back into the sunless depths of the hole in front of him, as if driven by an overseeing force. Chance, compelled by a mixture of urgency and instinct, took the initiative, his movements purposeful and determined as he handled everything on his own. His ass cheeks move in soft, arrhythmic humps, using the fingers to reach all the right places.
The digits writhing inside him feel cool against his hot, sizzling flesh, providing momentary relief from the fire set ablaze.
"There... Just a little more..." Chance breathes, swaying his hips repetitively to hit the sweet spot; plunging deep within the crevices of his ass, all in the name of lust. Mafioso can't help himself; watching the small, lewd performance being enacted right before his very eyes is the definition of seductive. He swallows hard, suppressing the overwhelming desire for more as he submits to the inevitable.
Chance lay sprawled on the soft sheets, thoroughly lost in a state of bliss. His eyes gleam with a carefree pleasure, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth in a relaxed O-shape, catching the rabbit's undivided attention. Mafioso milks him, plowing his fingers hard against the bulging prostate as squeaks of fulfillment lead to the inevitable climax. Chance stutter again and he lets out a quiet sob, cumming for the second time and staining his covers even more. A thick white goop arises from the bunny's engorged cock, causing his ears flick and thighs to tremble wildly.
Droplets of sweat bead off the tip of Mafioso's twitching nose, panting laboriously as the persistent heat begins to grind his gears. The pheromones produced by the recessive became denser and more potent, sending stars shooting across his vision. The air is thick with this tantalizing aroma, hot and revitalizing like freshly ground ginger, yet it carries a delicate sweetness reminiscent of cinnamon. This blend dances in the atmosphere, stinging his snoot and creating a suffocating embrace that fills the room, wrapping around him like a warm, spicy veil.
The zipper of his pants feels like it's going to burst open at any given second. The deprived cock twitches eagerly, the red tip weeping from the lack of friction. Mafioso can't hold himself back any longer.
Mafioso palms his erection through the fabric, as he repositions himself, hovering over the smaller frame of the creature cowering beneath him.
The sounds of desperate panting plague the air, mingling with frustrated huffs as the rabbit is pushed to his limits. Each breath came out in ragged bursts, a testament to the effort that surged through his veins. He needs to be inside, no longer considering the satisfaction of the bunny pinned beneath him as he whips the sheening cock from its prison; where it lay in wait for this moment to come to term.
Chance drools a bit at the sight, his instincts beginning to take over, "I need you inside me," he says breathlessly, spreading his thighs in a lewd motion as he rolls a finger over his swollen, plump ring, spreading it apart to showcase the pit leaking with slick. "Just put it in here, kay?"
Mafioso, unable to hold these perverse sentiments back, pounces on his prey, clamping the plush thighs tightly together before vigilant thrusting his way inside; watching as his cock disappears into the wet hole. Cradling the insides of his knees, Mafioso gradually drew the legs up to the bunny's chest, contorting his body in ways even Chance didn't think were physically possible.
He stares down at the innocent face, half-lidded with parted lips. It's the moment he feels the walls begin to clamp down on him that something in his brain switches again, Mafioso's instincts overriding him, the horny bastard inside his mind latches onto the pelvis hard, and aggressively pulls Chance onto the remainder of his length. The bunny squeals out a moan, his back arching in a way he never thought possible.
His insides morphed to the shape of Mafioso's large package, it almost seems unbelievable to Chance that he's enduring this massive cock without tearing. He can't even begin to fathom the size. How is it possible to map out every protruding vein without seeing it for himself? Chance swears up and down this man's cock is reaching into his large intestines, if not already penetrating an organ or two.
Mafioso takes a minute to revel in the slickness gushing around his hilt, the warmth of his insides, and relishes in the way the bunny's body twitches endearingly against him.
"I can't wait to breed you," Mafioso whispers, snapping his hips forth into the warmth, fleshy pit, that courteously swallows him whole.
A low growl seeps through clenched teeth as he strains not to cum instantly. His pace starts slow, trying to figure out how to not discomfit the bunny this quickly. But as Chance's soft moans start filling the air, he quickly tosses away whatever shreds of pride he was trying to retain and picks up that damn pace.
It's not long till he's pounding Chance into the mattress, the rapid momentum of his thrusts bears a resemblance to the warmth burrowing deep within his abdomen, but holy hell, does it feel like heaven. Mafioso's nails latch possessively into the sensitive flesh on the bunny's perfect hips, holding them, caressing them, as if at a moment's notice, Chance might try to slip away; an action he held no intention of fulfilling.
Mafioso, compelled by perverse instinct, begins to wonder what their offspring will look like. His chest flurries, envisioning that in nine months, the bunny will give birth to small babies that are replicas of Chance.
"Oh, you'll be so gorgeous, my bunny," Mafioso groans, his hand leaving the hips to hike up along Chance's small frame, dancing past his groin to plant just below his belly button. Mafioso nuzzles close, tracing the shell of the ear with his lips, then whispering, "You'd be so pretty carrying my kids."
Chance whines at the dirty statement; he feels a strange stirring in his loins at the thought, tingling in ways he's never felt before.
"I want to start a family with you... to bear your children," He says, shakenly between thrusts. "stuff me with your babies,"
Chance can feel the way the balls slap lewdly against his thighs, breeding into him like a ruthless animal with one thing in mind. He keeps going deeper, and deeper, till Chance swears he's almost balls deep inside the throbbing ring. With every thrust, every roll of his hips, Mafioso hits that sweet spot just right, with such force it feels like he's trying to make more space for all of him.
"Can't wait to see your belly swell and grow with my child," Mafioso huffs out. The moans in the room increase in volume, and yet he can't bring himself to care if the other may hear. Mafioso needs him in a wild, primal, carnal way he's never felt before, and he's going to stay high on it for as long as he can.
This isn't close to the most selfish thing he's ever done; not even making the top ten. Mafioso fuck him senseless, driven by this persistent heat and need to produce offspring. Taking out weeks' worth of pent-up sexual frustration on Chance just because he happened to catch a whiff of that desirable scent, which is now driving him insane. Finally draining his balls into the heat over and over, and then pounding the tight, damp cavity all over again just because some instinct inside tells him he needs to. Mafioso's gonna make sure he takes every last drop of him, just because his brain tells him he needs to do it.
Chance needs to bear his children, and he'll make sure of it.