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The Fucking of Pinstripe Potoroo	By : PolterGlitch Category: +A through F > Crash Bandicoot Views: 984 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Crash Bandicoot fandom or any of the Crash Bandicoot characters and I make no money from this fiction

Chapter List
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After his slightly unexpected encounter with Pinstripe, Dingodile could hardly think about anything else. In his mind's eye, he was the last thing he saw before he went to sleep and when he woke the next morning, the first thing he thought about. Even in his sleep, Pinstripe haunted his dreams.
Their paths rarely crossed due to their work but they messaged every day. Pinstripe would send him a morning selfie when he got out of the shower. He was never fully nude, he would angle the shot so his modesty was covered but it was still ample material for Dingodile to pleasure himself to. He always made sure he sent a video back to show him his appreciation.

Although they tried to keep their romance quiet, unfortunately their sex noises were not and as a result they were the hot topic of conversation within the team. Everywhere he went, Dingodile was subject to snide comments, some more blatant than others. In particular, Dr. N Tropy, who hadn't been at the party, had some very crude remarks to make once he heard the gossip:
“So you fucked the gangster rat? Did you make him squeal?”
Dingodile smiled and said nothing, not wanting to give away any details. Besides, N Tropy already knew the answer.
“That little vermin loves being fucked, I've had him a time or several,” he continued, a crooked wry smile on his face.
Well at least that satisfied his curiosity. He had been wondering all week about Pinstripe's other conquests as it was obvious he had been with other men before him. Still, he felt a pang of jealousy in his heart. He didn't want the mental image of Pinstripe and N. Tropy in his head.
But one fuck didn't give him the right to be jealous, did it? They had never spoken about being exclusive. But still Dingodile couldn't stop the thoughts running through his head. He hoped that he meant more to him than all his other one night stands. He longed for another night with him, somewhere far away where nobody knew them, where they could get to know each other better as well as fuck.

He decided to be bold and suggested a weekend away at a fancy hotel. Pinstripe jumped at the chance and they both counted down the days until the weekend. Dingodile booked somewhere expensive in the city. He knew Pinstripe enjoyed the finer things in life and wanted to spoil him. He planned to treat him to a few drinks, a fancy meal then a passionate night of hot sex. He hoped that he wasn't coming on too strong but Pinstripe seemed just as keen and he was very eager to get away. He greeted him with a long, deep kiss when he picked him up.
“I've been thinking about you'se all week,” he smiled, his eyes brimming with desire.
“Same, I can't wait to get my hands on you. A whole weekend to ourselves, just us,” Dingodile tenderly stroked his face.
“That would be great. Somewhere away from everyone.”
“Oh yeah. I know what you mean mate,” he agreed, the unwanted image of him and N Tropy creeping into his mind again. He tried to shake it from his thoughts.
Hopefully, once they were in their hotel room, he would be too busy thrilling him to think about anything else.
Little did they know that their weekend would take an unexpected twist and neither could have predicted the amount of depravity that awaited them! Things were going to get messy!

The hotel was exquisite; equipped with a spa, fancy restaurant and cocktail bar and the room was even better, boasting a four poster bed, jacuzzi bath tub big enough for two and a mini bar stocked with every kind of alcohol known to man. That was a good start, as soon as they checked in and closed the door behind them, Dingodile grabbed a bottle of champagne, “Come on mate, lets get this party started!”
He popped the cork and poured some into Pinstripe's open mouth. Pinstripe gulped it greedily then snatched the bottle off him, chuckling mischievously before guzzling more.
“Get it down you mate,” giggled Dingodile pulling him onto the bed.
“What? I'm thirsty,” he grinned coyly. “And besides, I know you'se wanna get me drunk and take advantage of me!”
“You're not wrong there mate,” Dingodile said slipping his arms around his waist and pulling him onto his lap. “How about you let me take advantage of you now? You're making me hard already.”
Pinstripe passed the bottle to him, after having downed a substantial amount and began grinding his hips against his inflating cock. He was still such a tease.
“Tell you what, foist you'se can spoil me, take me out to dinner then I'll let you'se fuck my brains out.”
“Oh can I now? Well I suppose that can be arranged. Lets go check out the bar downstairs,” Dingodile smiled at him, thinking it was a good job he had been saving his Wumpa coins. Pinstripe had expensive tastes.

They found a secluded spot in the corner of the downstairs bar. It was early so the place was still pretty quiet. Dingodile was well up for getting drunk – he'd had a tough week at fighting fires at work, plus the gossips had been getting him down, N Tropy especially. It looked like Pinstripe was on the same wavelength too, the way he knocked back shot after shot and ploughed through the top shelf, the priciest of all the drinks. Dingodile made sure he always got him a double whenever he went to the bar, figuring he would be more relaxed and kinky if he'd had a drink or two... What he didn't realise at the time was that getting him drunk would backfire... badly.
The hours began to blur together and the lounge began to fill up, at the same time their decorum started to decline. Pinstripe became increasingly vulgar and his brash voice grew louder:
“I can't wait for you'se to fuck me later,” he slurred, leaning across the table and holding his hands. “I love being fucked.”
Dingodile felt his stomach tighten and his blood run cold. Just as the alcohol was starting to blot out the mental images, Pinstripe unknowingly quoted N Tropy and they all came flooding back.
“Yeah, so I've been told,” he muttered bitterly, pulling his hands away.
Pinstripe's expression darkened, his eyebrows coming down over his bloodshot eyes, “What? You'se been talking about me?”
“I didn't say anything, N Tropy may have mentioned that he'd been with you.”
“So? What you been talking to him for? Its not like we're virgins is it?” he snapped defensively.
“Well I know you're definitely not mate, I mean is there anyone you haven't slept with – men, women, you ain't exactly fussy are you? I know you've put it about,” Dingodile shot back.
He immediately regretted his knee-jerk reaction when Pinstripe slammed his palms down on the table and yelled, “Fuck you!” loud enough to turn a few heads.
“I'm sorry mate, I was just joking,” he backtracked and tried to hold his hands again but he recoiled, looking genuinely hurt. His sad expression was like a punch in the gut.
He tried to change the subject but the damage was done. From then on his demeanour changed and the atmosphere nose-dived. The drink had brought out his jealousy so he decided to calm down on it.
He was kicking himself for saying the wrong thing. He really did want to explain himself; that he was jealous and wanted him all to himself but Pinstripe would probably freak out and accuse him of being clingy or possessive. Of course he was within his rights to fuck other people! One passionate night did not make him entitled...
Whilst Dingodile managed to reign himself in, ordering himself a black coffee to try and sober up, Pinstripe went the opposite way and upped his drinking. He had a face like thunder, exasperated by his drunkenness.
“You know you look cute when you're mad,” Dingodile smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Pinstripe wasn't impressed and scowled back at him.
From there, the atmosphere nose dived. Pinstripe stormed off to order more drinks for himself and accelerated his trip to angry drunken annihilation. Dingodile pondered whether he had hit an extreme nerve or if Pinstripe was just being bad tempered because he was drunk. He was known for being grumpy even at the best of times. Every time Dingodile tried to strike up a conversation, Pinstripe snapped at him. As the drinks flowed, his come-backs made less sense but his voice got louder. His furious drinker face never let up and it wasn't long before Dingodile stopped finding it cute and more annoying and tedious. In the end, he stopped trying to talk to him altogether. He had used up his entitlement to be angry with him.
“Come on mate, lets head back,” he said impatiently after Pinstripe became so drunk he could hardly string a sentence together but the single syllable grunts he made did not sound friendly.
“Don't... tell me what to do!” he yelled.
He got up and banged into the furniture, before staggering to the bar, crashing into the back of the chairs of some unfortunate punters, who shot him angry glares. If he wasn't careful, he was going to get thrown out or worse, have his head kicked in. Dingodile shook his head in despair. Pinstripe came stumbling back with a double Jack and Coke and a shot. Dingodile cringed internally as he downed them. Unfortunately for him, it was one drink too far when a few minutes later, his face turned a funny shade of green and he put his hand over his mouth but he couldn't stop himself throwing up all over the table. A ripple of horrified gasps sounded from the other guests as they recoiled in disgust.
“We gotta get out of here,” Dingodile pulled him up before the security guards marched over and kicked him out.
He had sobered up rapidly and did not approve of his newfound role of being responsible adult, as much as Pinstripe did not approve of being manhandled as he tried to break free, kicking out and screaming obscenities, drawing even more unwanted attention.
“Mate, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Dingodile hissed in his ear.
He dragged him out of the door into the lobby before security could do it for him. Pinstripe thrashed violently trying to wriggle out of his firm clutches.
“Fuck you! Get your hands off me!” he screamed in his face.
“Fine,” Dingodile let go and took a step back.
The booze hit him ten times harder now he was standing up and sent his sense of balance on holiday. He stumbled backwards and went crashing down like a sack of spuds then noisily decorated the carpet with his stomach contents. Dingodile stared at him in dismay and disbelief. People were starting to gather; some laughing at him while others looked on in horror. It had got to the point where Dingodile was embarrassed to be seen with him and he had to get him back to the room as soon as possible to save them both from any further humiliation.
He put his arm around him, hauled him to his feet and dragged him up the stairs with great difficulty; Pinstripe didn't want to be helped and was in complete denial about how wasted he was despite having been on his hands and knees in a pool of his own vomit. Fortunately, their room was only one floor up but with the dead weight hanging off him it seemed like a million miles. Dingodile breathed a huge sigh of relief when he could dump him onto the bed. He couldn't even stand to look at him after he'd ruined their weekend. At that moment he would have preferred to have been back at work rather than looking after the drunken, obnoxious (albeit hot) mess.
“I thought you'se were gonna take me to dinner,” Pinstripe slurred.
“I don't think that's a good idea. You can't even stand up,” Dingodile snapped back impatiently.
“Get me another drink instead. I want vodka,” he scowled.
“Again, same answer. I'll make you a coffee,” Dingodile said through gritted teeth.
“Fuck you, asshole,” he heard the clicking of his lighter as he clumsily tried to light a cigarette, blatantly flouting the no smoking rule.
Dingodile took a deep breath and counted to ten. He was a very laid back guy but Pinstripe was really testing his patience. All over a stupid flippant remark. He was overreacting. With a bit of luck, some caffeine would sober him up and tone down his bad attitude. Perhaps some of the night could be salvaged but he feared the time for fucking had been and gone.
He got changed into his sleepwear, made Pinstripe an extra strong coffee and himself a vodka coke (he felt he'd deserved it after what Pinstripe had put him through).
“Here you go mate, get that down you,” he said placing the mug on the bedside table.
His words fell on deaf ears. Dingodile looked at him and sighed: Pinstripe lay face down, snoring loudly and dribbling all over the pillow. In the time it had taken him to make drinks he had passed out, too trashed to even get changed out of his suit and shoes or smoke his cigarette, which he had dropped and left to burn a hole in the bedsheets.
He was far too drunk to perform and he reeked of alcohol, smoke and sick, that stench alone was enough to repel anyone with a sense of smell. His breath stank almost as bad as his attitude. Dingodile didn't know what was up with him but he made sure he was as far away from him as possible when he climbed in next to him. He knew he could be moody and bad tempered but he wondered if there was more to his behaviour than he was letting on. It wasn't like he was normally a bad drinker either, he'd seen him drunk before and he was never one for showing himself up or flipping out over a bit of banter, quite the opposite. He would ask when he was sober.
“Goodnight mate,” he kissed him softly on the forehead. “I hope you're OK.”

He struggled to get to sleep. He watched the TV on low volume and lay in bed next to Pinstripe, who he'd rolled over on to his side for fear of him being sick again and choking. He surprised himself at how much he cared for him. Why had he not just left him to his own devices when he started kicking off? Everyone else he knew would have. Pinstripe wasn't very popular amongst the team but Dingodile thought differently. There was more to it than just his fantastic sexual talents. He really hoped he wasn't falling for him; he worried he would only wind up getting hurt.
It was the early hours of the morning and the night-screens had kicked in by the time Dingodile nestled his head into the pillow and was finally falling into sleep when he felt Pinstripe fidgeting beside him. He snapped the lamp on and saw him pulling faces as though he were uncomfortable whilst mumbling something that sounded a bit like, “I need to go potty.” Then his expression changed and he seemed to sigh with relief and smile... He wasn't... Was he? Dingodile lifted the blanket up to investigate and his suspicions were confirmed.
“Oh mate, what are you like?” he giggled and shook his head, quickly shuffling to the edge of the bed to avoid the pee fanning out from beneath his sleeping lover.
There were plenty of things he could have done to help him: he could have tried waking him to snap him out of it or even picked him up and sat him on the toilet himself but he chose not to. Instead he watched the expanding wet patch claim most of his suit and felt his cock stir. With the amount of booze Pinstripe had put away, it was inevitable that it was going to come out of one end or the other or in his case, both. What goes in, must come out. But he had never anticipated that he would get quite so turned on by it.
When he was sure he'd finished, he gripped his shoulder and gently shook him to wake him up but the only response he got was a garbled slur; he was still in his drunken coma, too wasted to know what he had done, let alone do anything about it.
Dingodile got out of bed and pulled the blanket off him to fully inspect the damage. The puddle was mostly on his side. He could have let him lie in it and go to sleep himself, he was in no fit state to know any different but he couldn't bring himself to be that cruel, despite him being a dick all night. And no doubt, he would be embarrassed enough in the morning, without waking up to find he'd peed himself too.
He rifled through his bag and picked out his pink sleep shorts and as he knelt at the edge of the bed to pull his drenched trousers and boxers off, he felt his erection growing. He'd wanted to strip him all night, this wasn't quite what he had in mind but he couldn't deny that the sight of him covered in pee was turning him on. There was nothing stopping him sticking it in him right there and then and fuck, he wanted to. Pinstripe probably wouldn't even know. But that would be rape, and rape was bad. Instead, he patted him dry with the hotel towel, re-dressed him and rolled him on to the clean side of the bed, giggling and shaking his head in amusement. Pinstripe would owe him after this. All the time he never opened his eyes; he made a few inarticulate sounds when he moved him but that was it.
With the soaking wet sheets, there was only room for one in the bed so Dingodile sacrificed his own comfort and set some pillows on the floor. He wondered if he would have done the same had the situation been the other way around. He couldn't imagine Pinstripe being so caring and attentive. He cursed himself for being so nice. The rude, obnoxious drunk potoroo didn't deserve it. But still, he gave him another kiss goodnight and pulled the blanket over him as he snored and drooled very inelegantly. Even in that state, Dingodile still regrettably found himself shamelessly attracted to him. He toyed with the idea of pleasuring himself but decided not to, he would let his desires build for the morning, then Pinstripe would really have it.

A few hours later, the bright morning sun burst through the gap in the curtains and woke them up. The smell of smoke, stale alcohol and pee with overtones of shame and depravity hung in the stuffy air. Pinstripe sat up and rubbed his eyes. It took a few moments for it to register that Dingodile was not next to him and he looked around in a panic. The last thing he remembered was them arguing in the bar.
“G'day mate, how's your head?” he heard his soft Australian accent as his head popped up by the side of the bed.
His warm smile reassured him but why was he on the floor? Why was one half of him dressed in pyjamas and the other in a shirt and tie? He grappled for answers, racking his brains to try and recall the events of the night before but there were none. At least Dingodile was here with him, so it couldn't have been that bad, could it?
His relief was short lived when he felt the wet patch and a wave of catastrophic embarrassment hit him as all the pieces fell into place.
“I pissed my pants didn't I? Oh brother...” he trailed off and put his head in his hands in despair.
He looked as if he was going to burst into tears so Dingodile sprang into action and put his arm around his shoulders, he couldn't stand to see him so distraught.
“No mate, it was me,” he lied. “I had too much to drink.”
Pinstripe relaxed a little then turned to face him with a big grin on his face and said, “I never knew you'se was a bed wetter,” then had the cheek to burst out laughing.
Dingodile was speechless. All he could do was climb on top of him, tickle him and bypassing his bad morning breath, plant a kiss on him - anything to silence that annoying laugh of his. But annoying and cheeky was his default, just the way he liked him. As long as he was happy, so was he. His dignity was a small price to pay to see him back to his usual self.
“You hungry baby?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away to something else.
“Oh yeah. I'm starving, need something greasy to soak up this alcohol. My head's killing,” Pinstripe answered.
“Well I'll order some room service. Go run a bath, I'll join you in a moment,” a polite way of telling him that he stank of piss, puke and shame.
Pinstripe's face lit up, he cupped his face in his hands and kissed him slowly,
“I can't wait,” he beamed. “Thank you.”
He squeezed him tightly and without words, acknowledged the fact that he knew that he was taking the blame for him to save his feelings. Pinstripe was touched, never before had he had a partner that would shoulder that amount of humiliation for him, especially when he had given him less than nothing in return. Dingodile was a keeper.

In the bathroom, Pinstripe looked at himself in the mirror in complete horror. He looked dishevelled, his messy hair had chunks of vomit in it, his eyes were bloodshot and he was in completely mismatched clothes. It was a far cry from his usual smart, tidy look. He spotted the bottom half of last night's clothes drying on the radiator, the piss stains were still very evident, exasperated by the light colour. He shook his aching head in despair. Dingodile was a terrible liar, but the sentiment was sweet. He had pissed in the wardrobe a couple of times before, after he'd had a drink but it was the first time he'd ever wet the bed. So humiliating.
He hadn't meant to get so inebriated. The only reason he had wanted a drink in the first place was to calm his nerves, although he would never admit that he was nervous and when Dingodile made the comment about him sleeping around, he had really hit a nerve so he'd put his barriers up. It was true, he had slept around and he didn't want him to know some of the things he'd done, especially when for the first time, he'd found somebody who seemed to genuinely care for him. He was ashamed that he had let the likes of N Tropy do unspeakable, depraved things to him when he didn't even like him. Not the way he liked Dingodile and the thought that he might think he was easy hurt like hell.
He adored Dingodile and the last thing he wanted was to mess things up between them but he wouldn't have blamed him if he never wanted to see him again. It was a blur but he knew he had behaved appallingly and probably ruined the entire weekend. He was utterly disgusted with himself not only for the night before but for letting N Tropy use him like a plaything.

However, his hangover subsided a little once he was soaking in the tub and when Dingodile slipped in next to him and put his arm around him, his self esteem rose too.
“Food will be half an hour,” he kissed his lips, pleased that his breath was much fresher now that he'd brushed his teeth.
Dingodile stroked his hair then moved down to nuzzle his neck, he could tell he was still feeling low, both physically and mentally. If he only knew how much watching him wet himself had turned him on, he would know that his embarrassment was unnecessary. All of his bad behaviour was long forgotten; he figured there was a reason behind it. He wanted to talk to him about it so badly... but didn't want to run the risk of upsetting him even more.
Instead he rubbed his shoulders, took the wash sponge from the side and ran it over his body before massaging rose-scented shampoo into his hair. Pinstripe closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the attention. It wasn't often he let people touch his hair but for Dingodile he would make an exception because with the perfect blend of compassion and red hot desire, he made him feel relaxed yet still unbelievably aroused. He couldn't believe Dingodile was being so nice to him.
“Your hair is really long without the curl in the back,” he commented as he dreamily ran his fingers through it. “Does that feel nice?”
“Yeah,” Pinstripe said softly, leaning into his soothing hands.
Dingodile was trying to be caring and affectionate but his cock was rock hard. Hopefully Pinstripe wouldn't notice, or if he did it wouldn't bother him; he was unsure if it was appropriate given the situation and how fragile he was feeling. He carried on massaging his head then tenderly rinsed the soap out, being careful not to get any in his eyes. Pinstripe felt his cock twitch – he was loving how soft and gentle the big guy could be... but still a little rough when the situation called for it. Whenever he put his hands on him, he felt so lost in his touch that all his problems seemed a million miles away. He manoeuvred himself onto his lap and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, bringing himself in for a warm hug. He swallowed his pride and said what needed to be said:
“I'm so sorry about yesterday... if I was umm...urh... I was drunk. You'se shouldn't have had to look after me like that.”
“Its OK mate, I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have wound you up,” Dingodile interrupted him before he could say anymore. “Stop worrying about last night. That was then and this is now. I just want you to have a good time. And trust me, I didn't mind.”
“Oh yeah?” Pinstripe perked up. “You mean me peeing myself turned you on?”
Now it was Dingodile's turn to blush, “Well, maybe a little.”
Pinstripe giggled smugly “Everything I do gets you'se hot eh?”
He smirked and began slowly rocking his hips against him to coax his erection to life. Almost immediately Dingodile felt his own cock rise further and dig into his groin. Pinstripe laughed again. It was like a red rag to a bull.
Without warning, he flipped him over so that he slammed against the side of the tub, he managed to grip the rims to steady himself just in time before he smacked his head against the ceramic.
“Oh yeah mate... like you wouldn't believe,” Dingodile whispered in his ear before licking it.
“Come on and fuck me then!” Pinstripe taunted him, pushing his ass against him.
Be careful what you wish for, Dingodile thought to himself as he clasped his cock and slid it into Pinstripe's waiting asshole, which was relaxed and ready for him. He held onto his shoulder with one hand and wrapped the other around his belly to tenderly hold him in place as he humped him hard and deeply.
The hot bubbling water splashing against their bodies only heightened their excitement. Pinstripe tilted his head back and sighed euphorically, showing off his neck, which was just prime for kissing. The kissing turned into biting, Pinstripe yelped when he felt his teeth against his skin but it felt good as he nibbled and sucked. He would have a belter of a love-bite.
His ass was so snug against his massive love muscle, it was as if their bodies were designed by the universe to fit one another. Dingodile's hand drifted down his body, softly fingering through his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he made his way to his cock.
“I can't get enough of you,” he whispered in his ear, wrapping his fingers around his member.
He started tugging and Pinstripe moaned orgasmically. He strengthened his thrusts, and with great pleasure he watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the side of the bath.
“Oh, you are good at that,” he grunted.
“I'm going to fuck that hangover right out of you,” Dingodile growled.
“What hangover?” grinned Pinstripe then let out another high pitched squeal, “Fuck, I'm cumming!”
There it was, that irresistible scrunched up cum face that Dingodile had come to know. Even submerged in water he could feel his cock twitching and erupting hot cum over his hand. His ecstatic sounds and the look of total euphoria on his face was enough to make him empty his balls too, deep inside his ass, almost simultaneously. He hadn't wanted to cum quite so soon but Pinstripe got him going that much that he couldn't stop himself. He took a few deep breaths and as he pulled out, wrapped his arms around him and rested his head on his shoulder. Pinstripe kissed him then turned around to settle back onto his lap.
“I know I came quick but I really needed that,” he said, clinging to him in an after-sex cuddle.
“Its OK mate, I was the same,” Dingodile smiled.
“Way to work up an appetite though, that food can't come quick enough.”
They both breathed a sigh of relief, glad that they were on the same wavelength.

They were drying off when there was a gentle knock on the door from the staff member bringing them their breakfast. She couldn't have been any more than eighteen and visibly recoiled when the stench of last night's depravity hit her like a brick in the face.
“Here you go, two cooked breakfasts with everything,” she said laying the tray down on the bedside table.
As she spoke she caught sight of the state of the sheets and her eyes widened in shock and no matter how much she tried to hide it, she couldn't stop staring in horror and disbelief.
“Oops, one of us musta spilt a drink,” Pinstripe chuckled, having thankfully learned to laugh at himself.
The maid stuttered awkwardly, knowing full well from the yellow tint and the smell that it was pee, “Ermm... Its OK, I'll get some new sheets sent up.”
She couldn't get out of there quick enough. Both Dingodile and Pinstripe burst into laughter as soon as the door was closed.
“It cudda been worse, at least I didn't shit myself,” Pinstripe shrugged as he tucked into his much needed breakfast.
“You're gonna get us kicked out if you keep misbehaving,” Dingodile laughed.
“But I know you'se like it when I misbehave,” he winked.
He wasn't wrong. But the smell inside the room was enough to gag a maggot, even after they'd opened the windows, and Pinstripe's excessive smoking wasn't helping matters.
“So what do you wanna do today, apart from the obvious? We gotta get outta here. It really stinks,” Dingodile said.
“Not much. My head still aches a bit. There's a spa here right?”
It sounded like a great idea – the perfect way to shake off any remainders of hangover.

They wolfed their breakfast down like the ravenous animals they were then headed downstairs. The smell of bleach and cleaning products wafted up to them as the staff took care of the aftermath of Pinstripe's meltdown. Dingodile wasn't sure if he was imagining it but he was sure some of them were talking about them and shooting them dirty looks. They'd probably all heard of his drunken antics by now and now they would have even more to gossip about now that they'd requested new sheets. He wondered if he was going to apologise for the mess he had made, he knew he would have, had the situation been the other way around but instead Pinstripe just laughed, like he had absolutely no shame.
There weren't many people in the steam room, and the few that were there also gave them funny looks. Was there anybody there who didn't know? Ideally they would have had the place to themselves so Dingodile made it his mission to get rid of the unwanted guests. They were clad in nothing but towels so he made sure he made eye contact with the other people then spread his legs, a crooked depraved grin upon his face accentuating his long jagged teeth. That did the job.
“Hey, don't be flashing your junk at them,” Pinstripe laughed. “You're mine.”
Dingodile turned to him and smiled, “What do you mean? You want us to be exclusive?”
“Yeah, I want you'se all to myself,” he said planting a sensual kiss on his lips.
Just when Dingodile thought things couldn't get better, Pinstripe got off the bench and onto his knees in front of his open legs...
“Oh baby,” Dingodile sighed as he slipped his cock into his mouth.
Straight away he rose to life, Pinstripe sucked him hard, closing his eyes and putting his all in to it. The look on his face was just as much of a turn-on as the physical sensations. He really looked like he meant it. For a moment Dingodile forgot that they were in a public place. He had got rid of some of the guests but there was nothing stopping more people, or members of staff, coming in. He glanced through the glass door nervously as his heart began to thump. He couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline pumping through him was exciting. A part of him wanted somebody to catch them, just to see the look on their face. Pinstripe ran his tongue up his shaft then took it it out of his mouth and tenderly licked and caressed his bell-end.
“That feels nice,” Dingodile said stroking his face with care and affection.
It was good to see Pinstripe enjoying giving so much, normally he was a selfish lover and wanted all the pleasure for himself. He was usually selfish all round, Dingodile enjoyed seeing this loving side to him. Pinstripe went back to sucking and dropped his towel to expose his glistening naked body, moist from the condensation in the small room.
“Perfection,” Dingodile purred at him as he admired and stroked him.
Now they would really be in trouble if somebody walked in. He enjoyed a few precious minutes of Pinstripe caressing his pulsing cock, always keeping one eye on the door. A few orgasmic moans escaped him. He hoped nobody heard but he just couldn't help himself – Pinstripe's mouth felt exquisite. It normally took a long time for him to cum from a blow-job but Pinstripe got him going in ways he'd never experienced. With his skills, he blew his previous partners out of the water. Plus the thrill of possibly getting caught...
Dingodile contorted his face in pleasure as he heated up from within, he was about to blow his load and planned on dumping it straight in Pinstripe's mouth. He wondered if he swallowed... Pinstripe's eyes drifted back up to his face and he smiled, pleased at bringing him to climax. His sucking intensified and he reached up to pump the base of his cock to further help him along. He could feel Dingodile twitching in his mouth. Dingodile put his palm around the back of his head to hold him in place but Pinstripe didn't want to go anywhere - he was happy to have his mouth filled with Dingo cum... Even when Dingodile began rocking his hips to touch his tonsils and made his eyes water.
“Yeah baby!” he groaned, a little too loudly as he erupted.
Pinstripe received it gratefully loving the warm creamy fluid hitting the back of his throat and tongue, just as the sound of the door scraping sounded and a young woman entered. Her jaw dropped and she gasped then just as quickly backed up and shut the door, traumatised.
Dingodile's heart was beating so hard he felt as though it would burst out of his chest as a few giggles escaped him through his heavy panting – he could hardly breathe. Pinstripe looked up, grinning from ear to ear and took a large exaggerated gulp.
“Yummy,” he said licking his lips.
He returned to the bench and wrapped the towel back around his waist and they shared a laugh about mentally scarring the unfortunate woman.

The remainder of their time in the steam room was spent relaxing, like they were meant to be, in a comfortable silence with Dingodile's arm wrapped around Pinstripe and him resting his head on his shoulder. They half expected someone to burst in and throw them out but nothing came of it. It seemed they had got away with it, leaving them to relish their rapidly growing bond... and free to create more mischief.
Next, they decided to take a dip in the pool (putting some trunks on this time) although they didn't do a lot of swimming. Instead they stayed in the shallow end, avoiding the few other swimmers, including the woman who'd caught them earlier, who shot them a dirty look that they paid no attention to and took to smooching and playfully splashing each other. Dingodile looked at Pinstripe adoringly; it was more than he could have hoped for to see him so happy and relaxed after the day before. He never wanted their time together to end but he'd have to get out of the pool soon – he needed to pee.
“I hope you enjoyed that,” Pinstripe smiled back at him.
“Oh yeah, I did,” Dingodile grinned, taking him in his arms again.
“Super kinky, wasn't it?” Pinstripe winked. He ran his hand down his face and said softly, “I wanted to make it up to you'se for the way I was yesterday.”
“You did baby. Stop being embarrassed, its fine, no worries.”
Pinstripe gazed into his clear blue eyes and kissed his lips.
“I love you,” Dingodile whispered it so quietly and so quickly that he hoped Pinstripe wouldn't hear it. It just slipped out. He didn't want it to. But Pinstripe did hear it. And he laughed. But Dingodile knew what he really meant. He meant I love you right back. But still the cheek of him to laugh!
“You wanna know what else is kinky?” Dingodile tightened his grip on his shoulders and brought him in so he was pressed up against him. “This.”
A crooked, depraved grin spread across his face as he emptied his full bladder against him. It took a few moments for Pinstripe to realise what was going on but then he felt the water heating up around him and the penny dropped.
“You are filthy!” he laughed.
“Look who's talking,” Dingodile giggled , keeping a firm grip on him so he couldn't escape.
They kissed but their filthy, kinky moment was rudely interrupted by the sharp blow of the pool attendant's whistle and an angry shout of, “You two! Out!”
Now it was Dingodile's turn for catastrophic humiliation: on breaking away from Pinstripe's lips and looking down, to his horror he saw that the water around him had turned dark blue, his urine reacting to the chemicals in the pool...
“Oh crikey,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks flush red.
Finally their luck had run out, Dingodile retreated with his tail between his legs, quickly followed by Pinstripe who was giggling like a schoolgirl. The other people in the pool watched them, turning their nose up in disgust and muttering amongst themselves about how gross they were whilst they were still within earshot.
They'd barely had time to get changed when one of the managers came in and told them in a stern voice that they had to leave the hotel, that both of their behaviour was unacceptable and that they didn't want their sort in the establishment. Pinstripe tried to say that it wasn't him that had peed in the pool but was reminded that he'd got drunk, made a scene and vomited everywhere the day before, which was arguably worse but either way he was in no position to argue. Dingodile left him to it and admitted defeat and eventually Pinstripe backed down too. He was sick of all the funny looks they'd been getting anyway. It was time to go home.
“I wish we didn't have to go back,” Pinstripe said glumly as they packed.
“Me neither,” Dingodile agreed.
“It really sucks back home. Being here with you'se has only just made me realise how much.”
He smiled but when Dingodile looked into his eyes he could tell he was still worried about something. He guessed that whatever had sent him over the edge the day before, was continuing to play on his mind. He tried to hide it with a smile but instantly, he could see through him. Their connection was too strong for him to be fooled by a smile.
“Are you OK mate?” he said softly as he stroked his face and tucked a few rogue strands of hair behind his ear. “You know you can talk to me.”
Pinstripe closed his eyes and clasped his hand and held it against his face, savouring his touch, “I know. I'm OK. Thank you for caring.”
He was obviously lying but Dingodile didn't press him any further. Whatever it was, he would tell when he was ready. The way he was acting was if he wasn't used to somebody caring about him or treating him with compassion.
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The Fucking of Pinstripe Potoroo