Dear, Bunny

『🐰4』

K A T H L E E N

"Since this is our final day before the start of Winter Break I decide to end the week with a educational film written by Harold Lenard." 

Bunny looks over to me. "Who the hell is he?"

I laugh informing her that Mr. Lenard was quite popular back in the television business. He wrote and directed films that revolve around tragic, criminal justice, and romance.

"So another of Mrs. Wyler's black and white chick flicks?"

"Exactly."

She flicks off the lights making her way back behind her desk starting the film.

In the half light of the alley the woman appears small. She brings one knee in to meet the other like some little girl waiting for a gelato, but this is no Italian plaza in summer time.

The camera lingers on her, and in that moment I can hear the audience take an extended breath. In the darkness could be any number of dangers, but in the end that won't matter, just one will do.

The weak illumination that casts her face into semi-relief isn't romantic moonlight, but instead it falters as old neon signs do.

On the filthy ground is the shadow of a man. With steady footsteps it draws closer and, without even a warning noise, the charcoal hand takes out a pistol. The young starlet turns.

A male voice tells her "It's time to pay" and a single shot fires. She drops, still perfect: soft cherry lips, hair arranged with every strand in place, ivory skin, angelic with closed lashes of thick black mascara. I know "who done it" of course; this film is older than my father.

As the movie continues I felt Bunny's hand sliding in between my thighs. I glare over at her but her eyes never left the screen. I wasn't worry about people noticing us since we sat at the back of class and it was dark.

She's been acting a bit clingy ever since we decided to head home to be with our families for the break.

I tried to move her hand but her grip tightened. I held in my excitement as I felt her unzipping my pants, rubbing her fingers from the inside. My head rocks back against the chair trying to hold in the moan that's desperately trying to escape my lips.

Bunny's finger tips are electric, they must be, for wherever they dig further into me my skin tingles in a frenzy of static. My mind is unable to process the pleasure so fast. Her head moves around to my right ear and she whispers what's coming next. Suddenly my body is off pause-mode and I pull back for a kiss that's both soft and hard.

Thankfully the bell sounds and she pulls out as the light flicks on. I zipped my pants back up before clumsily standing up. I roll my eyes as she laughs taking ahold my hand leading me out of the classroom and straight into the girl's bathroom. Luckily no one was in here as she pushes me in the stall locking the door behind her.

Her arms wrap around my back and in one gentle pull our skin touches. I feel her hand in my hair, how she loves the softness, watching it tumble as she releases it. Then her hand moves down my cheekbones to my lips. That's when the kissing starts and we start to move like partners in a dance that is written in our DNA.

Our bodies fit together as if we were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

With a laugh she lifts me right off my feet, pinning me onto the wall. We lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for us to feel safe with one another. Then she's all business, undoing my jeans, pulling them off, kissing from my lips downward, slowly, her hands on my legs, always just a little higher than the kisses. I feel my back arch in anticipation, knowing where her fingers will soon reach.