Marissa

Marissa doesn’t flinch when the door opens.

Her hips are up—ass pressed into your sheets, the pink satin of her bunny suit twisted slightly from how she collapsed onto the bed. The corset laces dig into her back. Fishnets stretch across her thighs. And when she looks over her shoulder, her eyes widen like she meant to be caught.

“Oh… it’s you.”

Marissa breathes it out slowly. Like a moan disguised as surprise. Her bunny tail flutters with each breath, brushing softly against your sheets.

“I was just hiding the last few eggs. And… I don’t know. I thought I’d lie down for a second.”

Marissa rests her head on her arms, her cheek pressed to your pillow, her bare shoulder twitching just enough to pull her strap loose.

“…Don’t tell her I was in here. Please?”