Michael hated dealing with the incessant storms, but knew it was the price he had to pay to live here. The storm meant that he would have to close up...the house and shutters, a task that he despised. It meant getting out in the wind driven sands, setting up the ladder and working those rusted hinges. He had been meaning to oil them, but like most things lately, he kept telling himself it could wait. As Michael continued to work his way around the house, window by window, rusted hinge by. I could feel his veiny cock right in my crack, rubbing it gently back and forth. I then felt his hand on my hip and he was slowly making his way toward my crotch, listening to my breathing to make sure I was asleep. His hand gently caressed my cock, it felt strange letting my best friend play with my cock as he dried humped me. Pretty soon I felt his breathing become erratic and I felt a hot gush of semen on my ass. He let go of my cock, got up and came back with a warm wash cloth and cleaned. More

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