Part 3

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I woke up to an empty bed, my clothes for the day placed neatly on the chest at the foot of our bed.

"Tom?"

I quickly looked around for any sign that he was here and then I remembered he started his new job today. Getting up I walked to the chest and pulled on the red t-shirt and simple blue jeans.

A slight smile creeps onto my face when I see the heart shaped paper that had been placed under them. I pick it up to read it.

I know last night is probably going to be a rarity, but I still love you very much. Don't let Star make you think you have to do such things to let me know how you feel.

Have a good day Bunny~

I smile, hugging the letter to my chest as I make my way to the kitchen to make breakfast as well as feed Tom's pet bunny, Marshmallow. A cute little pink ball of fluff that Tom's had for a couple of years. I'm hoping that the color isn't the only abnormality about him, I fear for the day when Marshmallow passes away if he will at all. Tom would be devastated.

Opening the cage, I pull down the ramp so he can roam around.

"Morning, Marshy. Sleep well?"

He wiggles his ears as if he understands and I smile, walking over to the fridge to hand him a fresh strawberry.

"We're out of lettuce right now, how about this instead?"

His eagerness to take the bright red berry is answer enough. He hops over to his little green carpet in the corner to eat while I heat myself up some oatmeal.

While eating I think back on last nights events. Did I really give, as well as receive, a blow-job out of fear that I wasn't pleasing him? And...I liked it. He liked it...

I want to please him like that, but...I'm not so sure I'm ready to take it that far. He says that he's okay not doing things like that but the face he made when I made him cum...I've never seen him make that face before. It looked like he was in pure ecstasy. Maybe...it won't be so bad. I can make it clear that if it hurts we stop or I don't like it.

I nod to myself, my decision made. Tonight. I give him the thing he desires most.

My virginity.

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