Michael lay naked on his dorm room bed on his stomach, gazing out the large picture window that took up an entire wall. The small, narrower window on one side was open, and thick, muggy air drifted into the room. Michael lay like a dead thing, incapacitated by the humid heat, and gazed up at the slate gray, overcast sky, wishing it would rain.
The view from his window was of the campus football field. During the school year he likely would not have lain so exposed in front of a window that could easily be seen into, even from the third story. But it was summer, and the college campus was nearly deserted. Only the humming bugs and the thick, oppressive heat kept him company.
Michael groaned. He wished he had a fan. He propped himself up slightly on his elbows, enough to un-stick his body from the sweaty sheets, then collapsed back down again, too tired and hot for any greater effort.
He closed his eyes. The weather channel had promised storms for today, and Michael prayed they would come soon. Anything to break the heat; the air felt like breathing in soup. It was hot and heavy with the anticipation of the rain.
Michael smiled behind his closed eyes as a soft breeze drifted in through the window, ghosting across his naked skin. It drifted over his sweaty thighs and back like a caress, cooling the soaked skin. Michael groaned as the small, tantalizing relief once again faded away.
But soon it came again, a cool, moisture-laden zephyr that danced across his body playfully, cooling his sweat, drifting across his buttocks and the inside of his thighs. Michael sighed in pleasure. Wind was a good sign. Hopefully the impending storm would break soon.
The breeze came a third time, and this time it felt a little stronger. It felt as though it were pressing against him, actually touching him. Michael could have sworn he felt the lightest of teasing pressure against his anus as the breeze brushed it. The touch made him shiver. He kept his eyes closed as the breeze died down once more.
But his eyes popped open when it returned. This time he definitely felt something pressing into him. A light, narrow presence was pushing gently into his anus, just a little, but definitely there. Startled, Michael flipped himself over onto his back and raised his body to his elbows, gazing around urgently, but there was no one.
He looked around suspiciously, but there was no way anyone else could be in his room; the door was locked—it was too hot to wear clothes in the room and he hadn’t wanted anyone accidentally walking in on him naked—and the room itself was too small to conceal anyone. Michael frowned, and decided that it must have been his imagination. Maybe he had started drifting off to sleep and hadn’t noticed. He flipped back over and lay on his stomach once more.
The cool, humid breeze came again, drifting all over his body, cooling his arms, the back of his neck, drifting down his spine and spreading its gentle touch over his back. It traveled across the back of his ankles, his calves, his thighs. And then it came again, not so narrow this time, a strange pressure, as though something invisible was slowly penetrating him, pushing inside his ass.
Michael hurriedly flipped over once more and used both his hands to press his buttocks together in a protective motion. The breeze had died away again, leaving the room hot and muggy once more. Michael felt frightened, wondering what was going on. He glanced out the window. The sky had gotten darker, the clouds heavier. Michael heard a dull, soft rumble, like the precursor to thunder.
He shivered when the breeze rose again, this time drifting over the exposed front of his body. His nipples hardened, and rose erect at the sudden chill. The breeze blasted against his face, stronger than ever, and whipped along his body, touching his ribs and hips. Some of the papers on Michael’s desk rustled, stirred by the wind.
Michael gasped, and his hips rose involuntarily as the breeze reached his penis, stirring around it, twirling and twisting about it with light, airy touches, like a small vortex caressing him. The wind fluttered against him, teasing him up and up until Michael felt himself starting to grow hard. He writhed on his sheets against the sensation, but there was nothing he could do, nothing to fight off. How would one fight the wind?
The wind died again and came back, as before, rising to him like an ocean wave lapping against his body. It combed through his short, sweaty blond hair, it ghosted fingers of cool air across his flesh, it teased and toyed with his erection. The cool air brushed against his balls, and against the tightly-clenched buttocks, which Michael was still pressing together.
The slight teasing touch against his butt cheeks felt seeking, searching. Still a little scared, but also turned on, Michael hesitantly removed his hands, splaying them at his sides, and left his anus unguarded. When the wind rose the next time, Michael felt it caress his opening again, though it did not enter.
Several more waves of caresses loomed and subsided. The wind was becoming more constant, the breeze a steady backdrop to stronger gusts that thrust fitfully forward. Each time they gathered a bit more strength and Michael felt the teasing pressure against his anus increase, until it was powerfully pushing against him, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. Michael’s penis was hard from the ministrations of the breeze; with each gust the small zephyrs still danced up and down its length, playing with him, moving him.
Then a particularly sharp gust drove forward, rustling all the loose paper and fabric in the room, and Michael’s head fell back against the bed as the wind entered him once more. It was thick, and felt as real inside him as a man’s cock. Inch by inch it slowly drove into him while the breeze was blowing. Then the breeze subsided and it withdrew. When the wind returned, so did the penetration, pushing even further into him, making Michael cry out.
The ebb and flow of the wind became thrusts of the invisible phallus, pushing sharply forward inside him, impossibly long and thick, stretching him open, then receding with the dying gust. Michael tossed his head and hooked his arms under his knees, drawing his legs back to better expose his anus to the wind. The sharp thrusts of the rising gale became more powerful, and Michael heard thunder rumble once again in the distance.
With Michael’s anus exposed, the wind became more furious, rising and falling in quicker bursts. Michael felt himself stretched even wider than before; the wind felt so huge and hard inside him that Michael cried out, his breath catching sobbingly as the wind pounded forward again and again, filling every crevice of him like nothing else could.
The wet breeze continued to stroke his penis, wrapping around it and squeezing with hot, humid breaths. No human mouth had ever been as tantalizingly cool and moist as the storm-laden breeze, whirling about him and touching his whole body all at once. He felt its breath against his skin everywhere, especially where his sweat clung to him. In those places the cool contrast was sharp, like little bites against his flesh. Michael cried as the breeze sharply cooled the insides of his thighs, nipping at the overly sweaty, sensitive flesh.
The penetration, however, held this bulk of his attention. The thrusts were amazing, slamming into him and then melting away as though dissolving. Instead of being fucked by one man, it felt as though dozens, hundreds of men were thrusting into him one by one, burying their cocks deep inside his anus and then simply dissolving away into nothing once they were pressed inside to the hilt.
Michael re-positioned his arms on the inside of his legs, pressing them apart and back with his elbows so he could use his fingers to grasp his buttocks and pull them wider apart. He was rewarded with a loud crack of thunder and the increasing fury of the gusts as they slammed forward all the harder, the strange phallus increasing in size to fit his widened passage. The papers from Michael’s desk were blown to the floor and danced across the carpet as the storm wind continued to fuck Michael roughly on the bed.
The interval between the gusts became shorter and shorter, until they were less like thrusts than like pulses and Michael thought he might go mad from the speed of the repeated penetrations. Then suddenly there was a powerful gust, so strong it knocked the books from the shelves in Michael’s room and rattled the window, and Michael felt filled as he had never been filled before and he came, his cum splattering against his stomach and chest, splashing up against his face. At that same moment, a deafening crack of thunder and a simultaneous flash of lightning rent the air outside, and rain began to pour down from the clouds in sheets.
Slowly, painfully, Michael released his position and lay back on the bed. He was forced to turn over and lie once again on his stomach to ease the painful throbbing of his sore anus. He lay panting, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm the furious beating of his heart. The rain had already cooled the air noticeably, and his sweaty body cried out in relief. Michael turned his gaze to the window to watch the storm as thick drops of rain fell to the parched earth.