He was having it. It was decided. That flashy rat faced little tease was going to get it good. All night he had been making eyes at him, brushing up against him, 'accidentally' dropping things and having to bend over to pick them up whilst directly infront of him. He wasn't a clumsy guy so he was obviously doing it on purpose. And what he did with the cherry was the last straw. Pinstripe Potoroo was having it, and Dingodile was the one to deliver. It was simply a statement of fact.
It was the end of the latest Grand Prix and the team were throwing a wild party to celebrate. The full moon illuminated the beach beautifully and the cocktails were flowing – the vibe was great. Pinstripe was mainly hanging out with the ladies of the Nitro Squad but every time Dingodile looked up from his Mai Tai, he seemed to be looking over. Even when he slid his arm around one of the girls, he caught him looking and the corners of his lips curled into a knowing smirk when their eyes met, like he knew precisely what he was doing. Dingodile scowled at him from across the beach and looked away. That damn potoroo having the audacity to try and wind him up... and what was even more infuriating was that he was succeeding. He would be sorry later.
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Dingodile had always thought he was hot but never let his feelings be known. But over time, they had grown and now he was finding it hard to think of anything else.
The team partied until the first rays of the sun began to creep over the horizon then many of them trailed off. Pinstripe poured himself a Sex on the Beach, kicked off his shiny shoes and sat down on the sand to watch the sunrise with the ocean lapping at his feet.
"I'mma drink this then catch some z's," he declared in his thick New York accent as he looked around to see who was listening and was a little surprised that all the people he had been chatting with had gone.
He continued peering around until his beady eyes found Dingodile at the bar making a super strong whiskey cocktail. Dingodile felt his stare burning into the back of his head and swiftly turned around. By now, both were a little tipsy so Pinstripe's taunting was far more obvious: he plucked the cherry garnishing his drink and sucked the liquid off then licked any he missed by extending his tongue ever so slowly...
Dingodile hurriedly diverted his attentions back to his drink, not wanting to give him the satisfaction yet he could feel an erection pressing against his swim shorts. Damn that cheeky little gangster rat. He wasn't sure if it was visible or not and didn't want to look down to check but he was sure he heard Pinstripe's annoying trademark giggle. Well that answered his question.
It was a strange contrast between rage and lust – the fact that he was getting under his skin so much only intensified his depraved fantasies. He wanted to pin him down, rip off his fancy clothes and ravage his hot little ass until he squealed.
He took another big gulp and tried with all his might to think of something else... at least for the time being. There were still a few stragglers left on the beach but as soon as Pinstripe was alone, he would strike.
