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The Bet	By : MrFanFIction Category: +S through Z > Tiny Toons Views: 6691 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own nor claim any rights to Tiny Toon Adventures or any character there of. All characters are copyrighted by their respective owners. Nor do I make any profit.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER 2:
GRASS STAINS

The prom was over.
It had been everything Babs imagined and a few things that no one could have imagined; such as Montana Max actually showing a trace of decency and having a good time. The party was all manner of surprises, laughs and life-lessons; plus a healthy helping of punch and assorted finger-foods. Several of the boys would be having fond dreams of Dizzy Devil’s date for many —many— lonely nights to come; Arnold’s date on the other hand, would be apt to haunting their nightmares well into old age.
When the music eventually died down and the ‘cameras’ went off it was late; well past any sensible curfew, the various toonsters began the slow exodus from the school. Buster, Babs, Plucky, Shirley, Hamton, and Fifi all left together. Walking was the conveyance of choice of course, far more romantic; plus, rented limos were not cheap.
As they walked they talked, laughed and even danced. Buster even got them into another round of his ‘totally not spastic’ dance which had them all practically rolling with laughter. At the park’s central fountain, the three pairs parted company. Bab’s shared a brief warring glance Shirley she bade her feathered friend a good night. They both knew what the other was thinking. Fifi, cheerful as ever, was none the wiser to the bet. Not that it would have mattered to her. Babs, though a little jealous, neither begrudged nor thought any less of the lavender skunk for it. Given the luck Fifi had finding boys to date, Babs only wished the best for her flirtatious, french friend.
“If any of us deserves to have a great night it’s her.” Bab’s thought to herself as she watched Hamton and Fifi go on their merry way.
———

She and Buster started down the path to Acme Acre Woods. Hand-in-hand, they talked, dawdled and dilly-dallied at length. Buster confessed that his dance really wasn’t ‘all that’. Babs got a good laugh out of that one; that Buster -had- been spazzing out and crazier still he had gotten the entire school to go along with it.
It was enough to make Babs laugh herself to stitches, “Are you serious?…we actually…” she paused to catch her breath midst the giggles.
“Yeah I know right. It would go down in the history if rabbit tricks and pranks.”
“If owning up to it wouldn’t make you the laughing stock of the school for the rest of your life” Babs always took joy in a well timed deflation of Buster’s ego, “Arnold and Arnolda would be so pissed.”
“Don’t remind me about Arnolda. Seeing her do the dance was punishment enough.” Buster said.
“Oh come on Buster, she was actually a pretty good dancer.” Babs said without so much as a trace of sarcasm. Arnolda had been surprisingly light on her feet and fluid in her movements; especially when considering her bulk.
Buster shook his head, “You didn’t see her dress flip up.” he said, a visible shudder running down his spine, “She was wearing a thong Babs. A THONG.”
Babs saw the perfect moment to strike! Leaning in, she put herself cheek-to-cheek with Buster; she felt the sudden race in his heartbeat, heard it too. She put on her best Marilyn Munroe voice, letting her breath tickle his ear with each syllable she whispered.
“Oh I think I might be able to do something about that.”
She didn’t even have to look down to know she had him. The pounding heart, the panting breath, the inability to form sentences; Babs knew all the signs of a boy on the edge. When she leaned away, diction Buster remembered how to form proper sentences.
“Your burrow or mine Babs?”
There was no need to mince words, they were both healthy, young rabbits; they knew what they wanted, and they both knew their respective parents would let curfew slide just this once.
“I dunno Buster,” Babs said, playfully fluttering her lashes, “How many brothers and sisters do you have back at your burrow?” Her left shoulder to slipped free of her gown, the pink fur showing in bright contrast to the muted pastel blue fabric.
Buster’s thoughts grew focused again, that would be complication. The the downside of being rabbit. With families as large as theirs, privacy wasn’t a luxury, it was a myth.
“Good Point.” he said, “So-o-o. The picnic spot?”
——-
The picnic spot was one of many small clearings in Acme Acres Woods set up for, what-else, picnics. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the one Bab’s and Buster called -the- picnic spot; tables, benches, well maintained grass, and a birdbath. Just like all the others. But to Babs it was special enough that she always thought of it as their own special place. It was, after all, where she and Buster first met; at a picnic all those years ago. It was where their friendship started. Now it would be where their friendship became something more.
She couldn’t have planned it better herself.
She was also quite sure Buster didn’t plan it either. He’d simply blurted out the first place that came to his horny mind. That it was also the closest was a bonus. So much kismet. It was like the stars themselves ordained this night and Babs was going to enjoy every second of it.
Even getting there she turned into a game of ‘sprinting tag’. Darting around trees, through bushes and over the grass. Babs lead the chase, teasing Buster with flashes of leg and frilly satin. Just like her dreams—minus the field of flowers. But at least the moon was right, and just as she did in that so-familiar fantasy she slowed and he caught her. They held each other, she gazed into his eyes and brought her kips to his.
It wasn’t like the slow, soulful kind of kiss that you saw in the movies. No, it was nothing like that; their kiss was hurried, rough, and even a touch desperate. They were a tangle of arms and legs rolling in the grass. The world spun, the wager between friends forgotten.
When they stopped she was astride his hips, her weight settled over a most telling of bulges. She leaned forward, making sure Buster could feel the warmth of her breath against his ear.
“That a carrot in your lap or are you happy to see me?” she cooed.
Buster, rabbit though he was, had no carrot in his pocket but he did have a ‘hare trigger’ as the pun went. Babs didn’t have to do more than walk her fingers down his slim chest and along his thigh to create a stir beneath her. Getting her hands on ‘it’ was a bit harder; her cerulean ball-gown with it’s many ruffled underskirts proved to be a challenge. It was not the first time that night she envied Shirley’s choice of sleek-chic, it certainly had advantages over the classic prom princess.
As she wriggled and squirmed atop Buster’s hips she could feel ‘it’ pressing against her panties, rubbing against her thighs. Then she felt ‘it’ with her hands. ‘It’ was warm to her touch; pulsing, throbbing, and already just a bit slippery with pre. Then, leaning forward she kissed him once again; locking her lips with his while her hips squirmed and rocked against his excited loins. There was no way Buster would be getting the deposit on his rent-a-tux, but she already had an idea of how to ‘apologise’ and so did Buster.
“Hey Babs,” he said, when their lips parted, “Could you uh turn yourself around?”
Babs complied. First she turned herself side-saddle, giving him a refreshing flash of frilly peach-pink satin as she swung her right leg over his body. With the next motion she swung her left leg over his thighs and turned fully about. At no point did her bottom ever leave his lap.
“Like this?” she said, flashing a coy smile over her shoulder.
Buster gave the ‘ok’ sign, “Poifect!” Then he seized her by the derriere and pulled her hips backwards.
Babs gasped in surprise then laughed before gasping a second time. The sudden pull on her hips put her astride Buster’s chest almost his shoulders. The giggle came when she saw what had been so ‘rudely’ prodding her moments before. Pink, almost five inches, and capped with a head that some how reminded her of a radish, at least by shape and colour. The second gasp was when Buster shoved his head under the back of her skirt. She knew Buster had a thing for rumps, but this was more than she ever expected.
Then he kissed her.
It was same fevered press of lips and tongue as before, but now applied to a very different pair of lips. The sensation was beyond description, the pleasure so sudden that Babs thought she might faint right there. Her older sisters didn’t say anything about this. That she might be the first among her siblings to have a boy eat her out brought a smug sense of accomplishment to Babs even as the peach-pink panties were worked into a sodden mess; Buster’s saliva was only half to blame for that.
For a full two-minutes Babs allowed herself to be lost in the heaven that was Buster’s flicking tongue and wiggling whiskers. She moaned and panted with delight with each sloppy smooch Buster gave. Then she came to her senses; it would not do to be so selfish. So Babs leaned forward and gave Buster a kiss of her own. Right smack on that throbbing cock-head. She hummed, licked, and blew the warmest of breaths over the sensitive rod. How long they stayed like that was lost to her, but she knew she came once unde that talented tongue.
“Babs…” she heard Buster moan. He didn’t need to say any more.
She swung herself around to face him as she straddled his belly. She felt Buster’s hands under her thighs; they squeezed for a moment and then pushed. They rolled in the grass once rolled to the side. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she felt it. There was a thrust and she heard herself yelp.
The trashy novels, the skin-flicks she wasn’t supposed to see ‘til she was eighteen, the ‘talks’ with mom and older sisters, even the helpful and startlingly graphic sex-ed pamphlets she swiped from Perfecto Prep; none of them could have prepared her for that first thrust.
First there was the pause; the tip of Buster’s dick brushing against her nether-lips. Then came the thrust. No amount of experimentation with her fingers, assorted vegetables could compare to the real thing. Carrots and cucumbers be damned; her snatch needed meat! Her fingers did not, could not, fill her in the same way Busters hard bunny dick did, and they didn’t throb so wonderfully against her inner walls. That first thrust seemed to last for eve, then Buster touched bottom. A gasp, a sigh, and another pause as their lips locked again. Then came the thrusting and thumping; Babs felt the squeeze of one of Buster’s hands around her breast as he clumsily groped and pawed at at her. She would have to teach him about that. Later.
They rolled once more and for a few brief thrusts Babs found herself rocking and bouncing atop Buster’s hips before her was once again pressed to the cool, damp grass. Buster’s hips were moving faster, thrusting in and out withe reckless abandon. She crossed her ankles behind his back.
Faster. Harder. Deeper.
They both cried out. Stars, she would distinctly remember stars, and trumpets.
——
The walk to Bab’s burrow was quiet. There was nothing left to be said as they leaned upon each other. They were both, hot, sweaty and there would be more than a few questions about the stains on her gown.
“I am so sending you my dry cleaning bill.” Babs whispered. A gentle nuzzle given to her lover’s ear.
“You do mine, I’ll do yours.” Buster replied.
“Oh no. That’s what got us into this mess.”
“And what a mess eh Babsy?”
There was a minute of shared laughter. The evening would hold one more surprise for Babs. There on the burrow hatch to her home was a small note:
“Dear Babs,
Talked Mom and Dad into takings us out to the movies.
We should be back by midnight.
Dinner’s in the fridge, oh you have dish-duty, for the next two weeks.
- Love, your Big Sis Bernadette.
PS: You owe us. Have a great prom night Babsy.”
The PS was scrawled in orange marker, an obvious hasty amendment made when her parents weren’t looking. Babs smiled then flashed a grin to Buster.
“You know, a good soak in the tub will get the grass stains out easy.”
“I dunno Babs, I think the tux is dry clean only.”
Babs pressed nose to nose withe her blue furred boyfriend . A sultry half-lidding of her eyes. “I wasn’t talking about the clothes.” she whispered and then planted a slow kiss as they both stepped into the burrow.
[SCENE DISSOLVE TO PRESENT]
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The Bet