The din of a mediocre night fades behind you as you step into the club’s restroom.  You can always count on a slow night to be made a bit better by a visit to the facilities at the back, out in the service corridor behind the dark room, where your friends are otherwise occupied.  Inside, the walls are a riot of graffiti.  The insufficiently-small barriers between the stalls are rickety.  The stall door locks have never worked.  The whole room smells like sex, which is appropriate because you’re pretty sure that’s what’s going on in the larger enhanced-access stall.  The door’s a quarter open, and some wolf’s tail is sticking through the opening, squirming in an urgent wagging as its owner bobs back and forth.

Stall 2 is shut, which is a good sign.  Stall 3 is open, which is an even better sign.  As you step in and shut the door behind you, you hear a deeper voice with a bit of an accent whispers, “I think someone’s come in.”  It’s not so much rural as prehistoric.  It’s a distinct bayou twang that’s unmistakable.

“I got ears.  Shh!  You’re not supposed to talk!”  The second voice is higher and androgynous, with a city accent the first voice is lacking.

“But how’m I supposed to know if-“

“’Cuz they’ll stick their dick through the hole.”

You’ve already unbuckled your belt and unbuttoned your fly.  Hah.  New guy being shown the ropes.  That’s sort of adorable.  Too bad the head’s probably going to suck.  At least there’s someone there to give them pointers.  Unlike the newbie, you know how this is supposed to work.  Pulling your briefs aside you lean up against the stall wall and use fingers to find the hole with its duct-taped edges for safety.

“See?”  Fingers find your sheath and slide it rather confidently back.  They expertly pull you out, and in just moments you find yourself throbbing to attention.  That must be the experienced one you heard.  Those fingers know what they’re doing too well to be the newbie.

“Huh.  You sure this is gonna fit?”  There’s some trepidation in his voice.  Good thing you’ve got a bit of patience and nothing else to do tonight.

You feel a cool touch as something liquid and slick spills over your exposed shaft.  Lube?  Oh, this just got better.  Maybe the newbie’s gonna show you something better than his muzzle.  If so, this is gonna be a fun ride.  Well, assuming he can take you.  He doesn’t sound so sure about that.

“You can take my knot, big guy.  And this-“ You feel fingers squeeze around your growing shaft, both spreading the lubricant up towards your sheath and measuring your girth at the same time.  Hrf.  You rest your arms on the top of the stall wall, ducking your head so you don’t accidentally look over it and ruin the magic.  That feels good.  In just moments that expert’s got you fully hard.  “This guy’s actually pretty thick.  But yeah, it’ll work.  Come on, step up!  This is supposed to be a quick hookup, not dinner and a movie!”

You hear shuffling on the far side of the wall, then a meaty shaft slaps against yours.  Nnnh, not exactly what you were hoping for - or expecting, but it’s not unwelcome.  Fuck, if that was the new guy, he must be packing.  More shuffling, and the hand holding your cock lifts you a bit.  There’s a kiss of wetness and novel constriction around your tip.  Familiar, yet strange.  You’ve never felt a rump like this.  What’s going on?

Then there’s tightness and heat.  Oh, fuck that feels good.  Whatever it is slides up over your cockhead, then starts rippling its way back towards your base.  Unlike a good, tight ass, this is squeezing you the whole way along.  Rather than just the one sphincter, you can feel it gripping you from tip to hilt.  Fuck, without the lubricant you’re pretty sure there’s no way you would have fit.  What the hell is that?  It feels so good that you’re drooling on your chest as your hips give an involuntary push to get more of it.

From the far side of the wall you hear a grunt of exertion, and thick, dark-green scaled fingers close over the top of the wall, just where your arms are crossed over its top.  “Oh yeah, that’s good.”

Then you feel another strange wave of pressure.  Something grips even tighter near your base, then travels towards your tip and returns.  This is so good, but it’s too strange.  You have to know.  You just have to.  This can’t be just any ordinary ass.  So even though it’s sort of against the rules, you lift your head, laying your chin on the top of the insufficiently-sized stall wall and peer over.

A rather surprised crocodile face stares back at you, with yellow eyes wide and grin gap-toothed.  He’s big enough to take up most of the stall, though half of that is just his monster of a tail.  He’s wearing a gaudy hawaiian shirt and little else.  Green scales strain over his belly, but it’s not so big that you can’t see below.  Just below him is a broader, red-furred smirk staring up at you from the vulpine face as he helps his new crocodile friend to pleasure you.  That one’s a regular at the club, but the croc is new, as is the way the fox is helping to sink your length into…  Into…

And that’s where your train of thought skips the track and derails.  Is that…  Is that the crocodile’s cock wrapped around your own?  Oh fuck, as you pull back you can see the shiny surface of your own dick disappearing into his dick-hole, the tube of his cock stretched wide around your girth.  You throb, and you see the croc-guy flinch.  “Oh, feels like he likes it.  Don’cha?”  He grins at you.

The fox’s fingers squeeze around the massive shaft engulfing yours.  That must have been the extra squeezing you felt.  Stars burst in your vision as he grips around the crocodile’s tip - your cock base - and then gives you both a stroke.  That’s just too intense.  Both you and the croc melt into the sublime sensations.

It’s all too much.  The intense clenching around you already feels wonderful, but the added grip has you about to blow.  You grab the wall and thrust.  The whole assembly knocks and shakes.  From two stalls over, you hear a few voices complain—the wolf and whoever they were fucking.  The crocodile’s feet shuffle wider and his tail curls to brace himself against the toilet.  The fox’s fingers stop midway up the croc’s cock, giving you a nice tight ring to push through as you slide back in right to the hilt.

Orgasm hits you like a brick.  The crocodile shudders.  “Fuck, he’s cumming.”

“Yeah, I can feel it.”  The fox responds.  He starts to stroke vigorously, working both you and the croc-guy at the same time.  Second after second, pulse after pulse, you spray up into his cock-sleeve as he starts to throb around you.

After ten seconds you start to soften and slip out.  The crocodile shudders and grips the wall, and as your tip finally slurps free of his gaped cocktip, a gush of cum follows you out.  You realize there’s simply no way to tell if it’s yours, his, or some mix of the two.  His body shakes as it spatters his side of the wall, adding a new painting to go with the expressive graffiti tags.  You lean back, letting the opposite wall take your weight for a few seconds as you recover.  Some of the cum drips through the hole in the wall as the fox strokes his croc friend through his own orgasm, forming a suggestive trail of semen down the stall wall.  You can see the rest of it starting to drip to the dirty tiles on the other side.

“So, uh, do I get his name or-“

“Fuck!  No!  Come on, Nile.  Anyway, I think I just heard the door.”

So did you.  You use a bit of toilet paper to clean yourself up and flush it down the toilet.  You swing the door out to find someone else waiting for your stall - a medium-sized jackal with a wagging tail, an eager expression, and sheath already dipping out of his khakis.  “All yours, buddy.  Prepare yourself for one hell of a ride.”

Story by Kandrel

Art by Magnetus