As I rounded it, I saw him reach the end of the hallway, clutching his shorts. My feet parted, and my fingers began their rubbing motions. Sex I risked a couple of glances between the hinges, and thought I could detect a hint of movement, but only because I already knew it was there. We kept this pose for a couple of minutes, our hands moving feverishly on our respective reproductive organs. At least he had managed to turn aside from the hinge before shooting his load; that would have been a nuisance to clean up. A feel became a rub, a rub became a steady stroke, and I was riding my hand to yet another shattering orgasm. I was paranoid that smells would cling to it, so I often went through it several times with soap and water, just to be sure. Now that I saw it, it was a decent size. Finally, I felt the tide rising, and it seemed like he was approaching the end himself. At least he had managed to turn aside from the hinge before shooting his load; that would have been a nuisance to clean up.
