[b][center]Dingo Detour[/center][/b]

[center]By Kaydrien Iceclaw[/center]





“Potatoes, potatoes…. What kind, though?” Cole muttered to himself. The ferret idled through the aisle, eyes skimming over this and then that bin of brown tubers. “Russet, Yukon, red…. Ugh.”

He glowered down at the recipe in his hand as if doing so would cause it to give up its secrets. No further specifics materialized, however, and he settled for grabbing the nearest sack and turned his attention to his shopping list. 

About halfway down the baking aisle his pocket vibrated. Cole pulled out his phone without looking.

“Cole here.”

“Hey.” 

The relaxed tones identified the speaker to him immediately. “Hey. Haven’t heard from you for a while. Can I call you back in like, fifteen minutes?”

“Mmmmm, nah. Cum for me, noodle boy.”

The incongruous little phrase hit Cole between the eyes. A sudden muscle spasm hit him between his legs, balls pulling upward suddenly. The ferret gasped as he felt his cock tingle to attention. It only just started out of its sheath in time to pump its sticky delivery into the cotton front of his underwear.

Wide eyed, Cole rode out three more spurts of release with knees trembling. A strangled noise of confusion escaped him. With one hand gripping the handlebar of his shopping cart for support the other darted between his legs, unintentionally jamming his phone to the front of his pants but confirming the messy surprise by the pressing of newly-wetted fabric against suddenly-sensitive limp penis.

He nervously twitched his head back and around. Mercifully no one else was in evidence in this aisle. Flooded with relief he sagged sideways against the flour. He lifted the phone back to his ear in a shaky hand. “Daryl? How… What did you just…?”

Daryl chuckled. “Come over to my place. I might tell you.”

The connection clicked off, leaving Cole alone with his semen dribbling down in the crease of his inner thigh. He hurried nervously to the self-checkout without half the items on his list. In his unease he fumbled at the touch screen. Three times, before he got it right. Cole clutched his one hastily stuffed paper back low to his front, shielding the damp spot at his crotch from view on his quick walk out of the supermarket. The gesture undoubtedly looked ridiculous but he had other things to worry about.

Half of the bananas would be casualties of the speed with which he tossed the sack into his trunk. He darted around the back bumper into the drivers seat, where he checked around for any observers looking his direction. Then he looked down at the dampness in his trousers.

As surreptitiously as he could he unzipped to wipe away his unscheduled emission with a handful of tissues. The ferret’s head bobbing back up every few milliseconds to look out for the random passerby he expected to turn him in for indecent exposure any moment now. It hardly seemed worth it. Most of the jizz had already absorbed into his clothes, but he dabbed what he could out of his fur and awkwardly squeezed the soiled fabric into a less-damp state before he fastened back up again.

In another sense the jizz was just starting to sink in. Cole flushed with the realization he had cummed his pants at the drop of a hat. Or rather, on command. What happened back there?

He stabbed his car key into the ignition, and tore out of the parking lot. The dazed mustelid drove the route to his closest friend’s apartment on autopilot. Questions whirled in his brain, seeming to navigate for him. They parked him in the closest empty spot to the elderly brick tenement, walked him inside and up the stairs.

Before he knew it he was knocking on Daryl’s door. 

“It’s open.” Muffled by the door, but understandable. 

Cole yanked the doorknob back, whirling inside and slamming it behind him, to be greeted by another shock.

“Dude!” He flung up a hand to block his view of Daryl’s naked body. “You knew I was coming!”

Unperturbed, the dingo smiled. He was reclined back on the couch of his front room, feet kicked up on a padded footstool, looking smug as hell and without a stitch on him.

“Yeah, so?”

“I don’t wanna see that shit.” 

“Yeah you do.” Daryl casually scratched at his ballsack, adjusting the sit of his nuts.

“Uh, no? I’m straight.”

“Go to your subby place, noodle boy.”

Once again the words slammed into Cole and pressed down the tension and confusion that had accompanied him from the grocery store. He felt his heartbeat slow, muscles loosen.

“That’s better.” Daryl said. “Go ahead and look. You got permission. On second thought, lock the door first.”

Cole turned and fastened the apartment door latch. Then he looked back at his friend, eyes calmly wandering over the leering dingo. His gaze came to rest between Daryl’s legs. The dingo had a fairly tight furry ballsack secured just under the crown of his sheath, sex organs upholstered in thin creamy-white fur.

“What’s happening?” Cole’s question was devoid of the stress he felt ought to be there.

Daryl nonchalantly traced a finger over the rim of his sheath, watching the ferret’s eyes follow it with a smug smirk. “Nothing much yet. Take your clothes off and give me a little show, hmmm?”

Obediently Cole unbuttoned his polo shirt. He made sure to pull the garment off slowly to give Daryl time to appreciate it leaving his chest- not really a chest to write home about in his own opinion, a little narrower and less muscled than he’d want, but nothing to be ashamed of either. He moved on to unbutton his slacks, hooked a thumb under the side of his waistband and pulled down to show off a wedge of his boxers. Posed subtly with one hand on his exposed belly, turning at an angle to display himself in half profile. 

“Why am I doing this?” Quizzical, confused, but still calm as he shucked his shoes. 

“Because your boyfriend slash master wanted to see you strip.” The dingo squeezed his sheath to the sight of the ferret shimmying off his pants. Cole’s whole spine got into an elegant curve during the maneuver, which Daryl liked. “Turn around and wiggle that ass at me while you slide off those undies.”

Cole obliged. Now in the middle of the room he made a slow spin. He bent at the hips as if to give a stiff formal bow away from the couch, and raised his tail to the sky so its occupant would be able to see. With feet planted close together he took a hold on each side of the elastic waistband and slowly pulled the boxers downward. He swayed from side to side as he did so, waving his firm rear for the dingo’s benefit. “But I’m straight.”

“Who’s the cutest girl you’ve seen around lately?”

The ferret thought about that as he stepped out of his boxers. No answer occurred to him. In fact, he couldn’t think of any time he’d particularly noticed any female’s looks in recent memory. “Uhhh…”

“Come over here and make out my ass while you’re thinking about it.”

Cole turned around. Daryl was at half mast, stroking himself lazily. “But-“

“No butts except mine. Rim me, noodle boy.”

Cole’s legs carried him forward toward the couch. An awareness that his maleness bobbed out of his sheath ahead of him stirred up a new little swirl of serene confusion to join the others as he walked.

The dingo helpfully kicked the footstool aside and slid forward, sliding forward on the cushion to just hang his tail over the edge and present himself. He patted the ferret’s head lightly as Cole knelt between his legs. Without hesitation Cole planted his nose against the other guy’s taint and his tongue over the dingo’s asshole.

“There we go.” Daryl encouraged as a second and third tongue-stroke followed the first. “Clean the outside good and then dig in. Haven’t showered in a minute so it might be a bit salty.”

Daryl’s hole was indeed salty with sweat. And also a little smelly, but not in a way Cole was finding objectionable. It just smelled of male musk, and now the scent of saliva on skin. Cole repositioned to lap up a bit of the inner creases on either side for thoroughness sake, tongue tickled by the thin fur of the inner side of the dingo asscrack, before returning to the smooth surface of the pucker itself. 

He paused his work momentarily -an act that took a modicum of effort- to ask, “How?”

Opening his mouth to let the word out bumped the top of his pointy ferret nose against the underside of the dingo’s balls before he went back to tonguing.

“Hypnosis, mostly.” Daryl, having continued to masturbate casually while his friend worked his tail end, was all the way hard and slowly stroking that instead of his sheath now. The red rocket blocked Cole’s view of his face more than not. “You know those ASMR files you always listen to before bed? Got some subliminals in there.”

That made sense to Cole. Insofar as it offered some explanation for why he was doing what he never would’ve considered, to his best friend. He assumed it had something to do with why he wasn’t flipping his lid, too. 

Most of the salt taste was gone now, so he pressed the tip of his tongue to the middle of the tailstar and pressed with a light wriggle to tease it. It obligingly relaxed to let him start inward.

“See? Would a straight boy kiss my ass like that?” The dingo asked rhetorically. “You love it. The hypnosis wouldn’t work if you didn’t.”

Cole couldn’t really argue with that. Working his way around the inner edge of the rim made his cock throb with heat. The taste of ass seemed familiar now, as if he should know it. He followed the feeling as an instinct, lapping at Daryl’s insides as he somehow knew would be most pleasurable to the canine.

“Oooh yeah… That’ll do it.” Praised the object of Cole’s pleasuring. “I’m not gonna last long here.”

The ferret plunged into an enthusiastic tongue-fuck in and out to help the dingo along. Within less than a minute the asshole twitched and squeezed around him once, twice, and a few more times for good measure. Daryl gave a pleased grunt, leaving off his stroking on the downswing to squeeze around the base of his swelling knot. His jizz streamed out in ropes over the top of Cole’s head and onto the ferret’s back.

Cole didn’t stop of course, compelled to be a good little ass-kisser. Until Daryl told him otherwise. Daryl let him keep going a good long time first. A grin occupied his face as he watched the cum-smeared head of the hypnotized mustelid between his legs while he continued to dribble onto his own stomach. 

“Good job. You can stop now.”

Cole’s retreat was nearly hesitant. He sucked down a deep breath to fill his lungs with fresh air, surveying the well-licked pucker and the rest of the dingo’s equipment with visible lust and pulsing erection. “I’m… not straight?”

“Nope.” Daryl confirmed. He pushed himself back to a more normal sitting position and folded his arms behind his head in a self-satisfied manner. “I guess maybe you started bisexual. But you haven’t been able to answer the ‘cute chick’ question in the last three months so I guess I’m a good influence. We’ve been fucking and going out for…. Geez, like a year now. Time flies.”

“So if we’ve done this before…?”

He didn’t sound perturbed to himself, and Daryl’s answer was equally casual. “Why don’t you remember? Because it’s fun. You should’ve seen the look on your face this time. Easily top ten on your reactions. Do you want to remember right now?”

The ferret tipped his head, thinking. Some of the thoughts seemed to have an invisible half he was walled off from; but since he had a pretty good idea why, that didn’t bother him. “…Maybe not now.”

“’kay. Jack yourself off, noodle boy. You’ve earned it.”

Cole automatically complied. He’d been leaking pre throughout the anal makeout, which made for good lube. The arousal built up to white heat within a dozen strokes and he came streaks over the hardwood floor while Daryl watched appreciatively, milking his knot some more to the second show of the day. The panting climax of the zonked ferret was good watching.

Eventually Cole shook himself slightly, and looked up from the white goo he’d painted the floor with. Now that he’d cum, a shadow of indignation fluttered high enough to grab hold of out of his submissive trance. “… Do you always make me cum over the phone? I was shopping.”

“Only when I want you here in a hurry; a quick jizz really gets you moving.” The relaxed dingo didn’t display an atom of shame. “I was feeling extra horny today... Good noodle boy; drop some more.”

Daryl said the last six words firmly, and Cole felt himself glaze over a little more with a pleasant flush. “Thank you, Daryl. I enjoyed eating your ass.”

“You’re welcome. How about we go to a movie on Thursday. There’s this new barbecue place on fifth we can head after. I’ll let you remember everything for the whole date… sound good?”

“That sounds good.” 

“It’s a date. Go take a shower.”

Twenty minutes later, with the cum removed from his fur and once again dressed, Daryl gently ushered his best friend/part-time-boyfriend/hypnoslave out the door. “Got everything?

“I think so.”

“Okay, great.” The dingo planted a little lick on Cole’s cheek and closed the door most of the way behind him. “’Straighten up’, noodle boy.”

The trigger phrase hit, Cole took three deep breaths, and… blinked at the hall, reorienting himself. He felt like there was something he was forgetting. 

Mentally he retraced his steps. [i]I was grocery stopping, and then I dropped in on Daryl to chat a bit, and… Oh, dammit.[/i] He slid a hand into his pocket, bringing out the printed recipe he meant to try and looking over the rest of the grocery list he’d scrawled in the margins. [i]I forgot almost half of this stuff. How the hell did I do that?[/i]

The ferret pivoted and strode purposefully down the hall toward the stairs, muttering to himself. “At least I didn’t get to the frozen aisle yet. Really lost track of time hanging out with Daryl, the ice cream would’ve melted in the back seat…”

He must have mixed up the clean and dirty underwear again too; now he was walking the pair he had on felt a little crusty. Cole was having a hell of an absent-minded day.



[center]The End[/center]