Our bunny tale begins at the Bunny Club, an exclusive club for famous rabbits. We are not allowed to reveal their names due to their status and a phobia for lawyers. The club was started by Hugo Bunnifer, who made billions from his magazine, Playbunny. Hugo is the only one, and we mean the only one who can invite you to the club.

The famous rabbits go there because of the club's secrecy and discretion.

It is located near Hollyweird, California. Not only must you be invited by Hugo, but you must also know the location of which hole leads to the club. (Some never find the right hole). It is rumored to be a few hops down the Bunny Trail.

Some have been known to make a wrong turn in Albuquerque; we will leave that bunny nameless.

Others try to sneak in, but with Balboa Bunny, at the door, they never get in. He watches over the place with the eye of a tiger.

It was another typical Friday night at The Bunny Club as the rabbits began to fill the club up. They come to watch the sexy girl bunnies pole dance and strip for tips.

Fridays are the busiest night for the club. Because of that, they get the best entertainment. Stars like Sugar Bunny, Trixie Bunny, Sunny Bunny, and Lola Bunny, to name a few.

Jack and some of his friends Waskel, White, and Peter, were sitting at their table drinking Cotton tail Martinis.

A song by the Jefferson Airplane came on, and White spoke up, "We need some table dances over here." (He loves Grace Slick)

Sugar and Trixie hopped over to their table and said, "What can we do for you?"

White told them, "Strip down to your fur while this song is playing and shake those cottontails."

Trixie and Sugar began gyrating on the poles much to the delight of White, and the others gathered at their table.

It was a quick song that left all of them wanting more. The fortunate ones even had cottonmouth. Jack screamed from the back, "Play Girls Girls Girls by Motley Crue."

Sugar and Trixie both smiled and yelled back, "That's our favorite song."

So, they began to dance, and a couple of the other bunnies joined in, and all began to strip.

Jack walked to the stage to tip the bunnies with his bushel of carrots. He slid the carrots into their G-strings, leaving a rather disturbing bulge.

When he got to Trixie, she slapped his hand away. She said, "Silly rabbit, we don't want those kinds of carrots. We want carats!"

Jack told Trixie, "I will be right back."

Quick as a lightning bolt, he was gone to get some carats from the jewelry store. He made it back in record time with a bag of carats.

When he got back to the club, it was full, and some of the other bunnies had shown up. One of them he did not care for always dyed his fur pink. He also brought in his drum and played it incessantly and wore cheap sunglasses, even at night.

As he was heading to the stage to pay Trixie her carats, he bumped into an invisible bunny.

Jack said, "I wish you wouldn't do that, Harvey."

Harvey replied, "You only wish you could do this so you wouldn't have to pay the bunnies."

Jack found Trixie and opened his bag of carats and said, "Here, Trixie," and handed her two carats.

She looked in the bag and saw that he had bunches of them. Thinking to herself, 'I want all those carats, and maybe that will be enough for me to retire on and move back to Albuquerque, where my true love lives.'

She looked down at Jack's bunny penis and saw that is was hard and whispered in his ear, "We have a backroom here, and I can take care of the bulge in your fur."

"Is it the champagne room?" Jack inquired.

"No, silly. It's the Carrot Juice Room. I promise you'll have an orgasm and better vision."

Jack always thought that Trixie was the best-looking bunny there and always wanted her. He took her by the paw and said, "Let's go." Hand-in-hand, the adorable couple walked to the rear of the club, crunching over rabbit pellets, crushed peanuts, and moldy Bunny Bread.

She took him into a dimly lit back room that smelled of cigarettes, cheap booze, and rotten carrots pointed to a couch and said, "Sit there, Jack."

She began to strip, slowly removing her sparkling stripper bra, placing it on top of his head and bending over in front of him, moving her G-string to the side, exposing her slit.

Jack started panting like a rabbit running from greyhounds, his carrot standing at full attention and ready for harvest. In another transformation, Jack's lop ears now stood fully erect, improving TV reception noticeably.

Trixie started to give him a lap dance feeling his full erection through his pants and suddenly stopped. She said, "Jack, before we go any further, do you love me? Will you make me your wife?"

Stunned by her question, Jack replied, "I'm married Trixie, but I can pay you in carats, so two out of three isn’t bad."

She looked at him for a minute letting the suspense build, sweat beads running down Jack's fur, and told him, "That works."

He handed her the entire bag of carats.

She moved over to Jack and slid down his pants, exposing his fully erect penis. She exclaimed, "Wow, you are as big as your ears."

Licking her lips, she swallowed all of him in her mouth.

She slowly went up and down his penis feeling the cum build in his furballs, which now resembled fuzzy dice hanging from a car's rearview mirror.

She knew from his reputation that he did everything fast, and he did not disappoint as he came within a minute of her sucking on his carrot.

Wiping her lips, she looked up at Jack and told him, "I love it when I can taste jellybeans in a buck's cum."

Jack lit up a Cuban carrot savoring the moment and sipped on his Cottontail martini.

Trixie told him, "Enjoy the cigar and your drink. I need to get back out to the dance floor."

As she left the room, she bumped into Harvey, who was still invisible, but she could feel his erect carrot.

Trixie yelled at him, "You are a pervert, Harvey."

She glanced at the stage and noticed Balboa's wife, Adrian Angora, had taken the stage. She was a classy rodent, normally dressed to the hilt in velveteen. She immediately began bumping and grinding as lewdly as rabbit-ly possible catching everyone's attention.

She has legs, and she knows how to use them. Her music was performed live by country troubadour, Eddie Rabbit, who was singing a hillbilly cover of "Cherry Pie." Ears bled in three counties. As an additional bonus, she was shaved bare down there so she could never be referred to as a "hare."

"Hey, that's not for kids!" a voice from the rear screamed. Apparently mistaking Adrian for the equally curvaceous Trixie.

"No, it isn't," the flustered bartender yelled, now donning many hats and acting quite mad. He then turned to his bouncer and ordered, "Balboa, git your lazy ass over here and get that kit outta here NOW! I don't care if it is his birthday and he turned eighteen, state law says twenty one." Balboa, doing as told, sauntered over with one eye on Adrian.

He then grabbed the diminutive kit by the ears and escorted him outside but not before the little whippersnapper thumped out, "Fuck you, barkeep'" in Morse Code to the delight of everyone..

Trixie, having had enough of this lifestyle, went to Hugo and screamed, "I quit."

She grabbed her carats and took the next bus to Albuquerque to be with her love and live with him in his burrow.

She sat in her seat and daydreamed of his smooth gray and white fur and how he had avoided so many attempts on his life by crazy ducks and hunters. She was, however, slightly envious at how hot he looked when he cross-dressed.

Looking up at the driver, who she knew, she said, "What are you doing driving the bus R***r?"

"Jessie kicked me out again." To which Trixie immediately began strutting her stuff down the aisle, singing "Jessie's Girl." Cartoon dogs and wily coyotes howled.

"Th-Th-The, Th-Th-The, Th-Th... That's all. Lushies!"

This story is fiction, and any names or places are a product of a vivid imagination. Any resemblance of persons living, dead or fictional is entirely coincidental.