“OH GOD! OH FUCK!”
Thank god, I think she’s almost done. For what seems the ten thousandth time, I regret renting an apartment in a newly constructed building with paper-thin walls.
“FU--U--U--CK” She draws the word out into a multi-syllable moan punctuated by my neighbor’s low grunts as he pounds her with everything he’s got.
“Oh. Fuck. OH… I… Danny… I’m… FU-U-U-CK!” after she climaxes for the third time, there is a brief pause, before she gives a contented sigh.
I pull my head from between the pillows, and squint at my clock. It’s 2:30AM, she’s been over for about an hour, pretty early for a Friday night, all things considered. Usually he brings them back later. By now, the noise has mostly dissolved to low murmurs, her high pitched giggle, to his terse bass. After a while I hear the bedroom door open, and the clomping sound of a tipsy girl in high heels. When did she have time to order an Uber? The poorly balanced front door slams with an echo.
Finally. I can sleep. I flip my top pillow, and give it a perfunctory fluff before settling down. My bedroom is quiet save for the distant thrum of the air conditioner. I’ve been up since five, my brain feels fuzzy. And yet... I can’t help straining my ears. There it is.
It’s the unmistakable soft rapid rhythm every guy knows. After less than a minute, his breathing grows ragged. I can’t help it, I’m holding my breath as I hear his voice lift to a soft moan. As he comes, he exhales, and I find myself doing the same. I hear him shift and yawn, completing night one of his usual weekend routine, bring a random girl home, fuck her silly, and then jerk off after she leaves.
I roll onto my side, and despite being hard as a rock, manage to drift off to sleep.
It’s past ten before my urgent need for caffeine gets me out of bed. I stumble into the kitchen, make coffee, and blearily check my phone while it brews. Despite not really being on last night, there are a couple messages waiting for me on the apps. It’s the usual line of hellos and drunken three am ‘you up?’s from guys I’ve brought home. I’m not ashamed to admit I brought a few home and told them to be extra loud, just to return the favor to my neighbor.
I’m checking the news, when there’s a quiet knock at the door. By the time I’ve pulled on a pair of shorts to answer, the delivery guy is long gone, but the package is sitting on my welcome mat. What the fuck did I order again?
I shrug, probably a refill on dish detergent or something. I bring the box in and open it, barely awake enough to safely use a steak knife on the package tape. There’s a smaller package wrapped in brown paper, which is strange for dish soap, but the paper isn’t well adhered and I tear through it without having to go fo the knife again.
I blink, staring uncomprehending at the contents.
It’s a dildo.
Not just any dildo! The package loudly proclaims, it’s a Sensate 7, the premiere model for male pleasure with eight separate settings and realistic TruSkin technology!
I blink again. Who the fuck sent me a dildo?
I lift the box out of the package. There’s a receipt at the bottom, but as is the usual case for sex toys it has less readible information than a doctor’s prescription written in cunnieform. But, there’s no note. No, ‘Gotcha!’ No smarmy belated happy birthday message from one of my old college friends. This has to be a joke, right?
Who would randomly send me a dildo? Maybe Kyle or Rashaun, but, I have to admit that, despite the absurd packaging, it doesn’t exactly look that cheap. I go back to the outer box looking for clues, not a lot of help there, until I get to the delivery label.
Oh fuck.
To: Daniel McHugh, Apt 334.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The delivery guy left the box at the wrong door, and un-coffee’d asshole that I am, forgot to check. Well fuck.
I have some duct tape, but not a damn thing for packages. So there was no way I was going to be able to quietly seal this back up and just leave it outside his door. That’s not even getting to the inner wrapping I sleepily massacred. For a moment, I consider just leaving it partially opened box and all, knocking and running down the hall. While that’s tempting, it would still be deeply shitty thing to do. No, best be a damn adult about it.
I put the contents back into the box, throw on a tshirt, and go out into the hall. Nobody outside right now. Good, no reason to do this with an audience. I knock.
A long two minutes later the door opens, my neighbor looks about as awake as I am, though less dressed. He’s wearing just a pair of loose pajama pants that hang low on his hips. I’ve seen him a few times in the hall, and with his tall thin frame, I’d always gotten the impression he would be on the bony side. Holy shit, was I wrong. His chest, is all lean muscles curly fuzz, and a few tattoos, I’m a tad envious of those arms… and that damn V. I can’t help noticing the tuft of sandy brown pubes sticking out below those abs. Damn.
I look up. Thank god I’m dark enough that it’s hard to see when I’m blushing, “Hey so… uh… I’m really sorry,” I hold out the box, with a pained expression, “this was delivered to me by accident… and I kind of opened it before realizing.”
He takes the box, cracks it open, and closes it quickly. His expression is totally unreadable. He remains silent.
“So yeah… sorry about that.” I begin to turn away and flee back into my apartment.
“Uh… no problem man, but…” I stop. Shit, “since you’ve seen it, d’you think it’s a good one?”
“What?”
He looks away for a moment, his face is angular and pale, I can see the color rising, “I mean… you’re gay… do you think this is a good one for guys?”
I pick my jaw up off the floor, and for a moment I’m about to protest. I’m out, but being identified by strangers can still make me squirm sometimes. Shit, of course he know’s I’m gay, he’s been listening to me fuck guys through the same shitty walls. I take a deep breath, “Well… I didn’t exactly get a good look at the package, but it looks OK, just have to remember to only use water based lube with these.”
He nods sagely, before pausing for a moment, “Is it… too big? Not big enough?”
I chuckle awkwardly, “Wow… ok… uh… that’s going to depend on a couple of things.”
There’s a loud series of beeps from inside his apartment, “Oh shit, my water’s ready.” He turns before stopping and looking at me, “You mind coming in for a second?”
Thank god, I think she’s almost done. For what seems the ten thousandth time, I regret renting an apartment in a newly constructed building with paper-thin walls.
“FU--U--U--CK” She draws the word out into a multi-syllable moan punctuated by my neighbor’s low grunts as he pounds her with everything he’s got.
“Oh. Fuck. OH… I… Danny… I’m… FU-U-U-CK!” after she climaxes for the third time, there is a brief pause, before she gives a contented sigh.
I pull my head from between the pillows, and squint at my clock. It’s 2:30AM, she’s been over for about an hour, pretty early for a Friday night, all things considered. Usually he brings them back later. By now, the noise has mostly dissolved to low murmurs, her high pitched giggle, to his terse bass. After a while I hear the bedroom door open, and the clomping sound of a tipsy girl in high heels. When did she have time to order an Uber? The poorly balanced front door slams with an echo.
Finally. I can sleep. I flip my top pillow, and give it a perfunctory fluff before settling down. My bedroom is quiet save for the distant thrum of the air conditioner. I’ve been up since five, my brain feels fuzzy. And yet... I can’t help straining my ears. There it is.
It’s the unmistakable soft rapid rhythm every guy knows. After less than a minute, his breathing grows ragged. I can’t help it, I’m holding my breath as I hear his voice lift to a soft moan. As he comes, he exhales, and I find myself doing the same. I hear him shift and yawn, completing night one of his usual weekend routine, bring a random girl home, fuck her silly, and then jerk off after she leaves.
I roll onto my side, and despite being hard as a rock, manage to drift off to sleep.
It’s past ten before my urgent need for caffeine gets me out of bed. I stumble into the kitchen, make coffee, and blearily check my phone while it brews. Despite not really being on last night, there are a couple messages waiting for me on the apps. It’s the usual line of hellos and drunken three am ‘you up?’s from guys I’ve brought home. I’m not ashamed to admit I brought a few home and told them to be extra loud, just to return the favor to my neighbor.
I’m checking the news, when there’s a quiet knock at the door. By the time I’ve pulled on a pair of shorts to answer, the delivery guy is long gone, but the package is sitting on my welcome mat. What the fuck did I order again?
I shrug, probably a refill on dish detergent or something. I bring the box in and open it, barely awake enough to safely use a steak knife on the package tape. There’s a smaller package wrapped in brown paper, which is strange for dish soap, but the paper isn’t well adhered and I tear through it without having to go fo the knife again.
I blink, staring uncomprehending at the contents.
It’s a dildo.
Not just any dildo! The package loudly proclaims, it’s a Sensate 7, the premiere model for male pleasure with eight separate settings and realistic TruSkin technology!
I blink again. Who the fuck sent me a dildo?
I lift the box out of the package. There’s a receipt at the bottom, but as is the usual case for sex toys it has less readible information than a doctor’s prescription written in cunnieform. But, there’s no note. No, ‘Gotcha!’ No smarmy belated happy birthday message from one of my old college friends. This has to be a joke, right?
Who would randomly send me a dildo? Maybe Kyle or Rashaun, but, I have to admit that, despite the absurd packaging, it doesn’t exactly look that cheap. I go back to the outer box looking for clues, not a lot of help there, until I get to the delivery label.
Oh fuck.
To: Daniel McHugh, Apt 334.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The delivery guy left the box at the wrong door, and un-coffee’d asshole that I am, forgot to check. Well fuck.
I have some duct tape, but not a damn thing for packages. So there was no way I was going to be able to quietly seal this back up and just leave it outside his door. That’s not even getting to the inner wrapping I sleepily massacred. For a moment, I consider just leaving it partially opened box and all, knocking and running down the hall. While that’s tempting, it would still be deeply shitty thing to do. No, best be a damn adult about it.
I put the contents back into the box, throw on a tshirt, and go out into the hall. Nobody outside right now. Good, no reason to do this with an audience. I knock.
A long two minutes later the door opens, my neighbor looks about as awake as I am, though less dressed. He’s wearing just a pair of loose pajama pants that hang low on his hips. I’ve seen him a few times in the hall, and with his tall thin frame, I’d always gotten the impression he would be on the bony side. Holy shit, was I wrong. His chest, is all lean muscles curly fuzz, and a few tattoos, I’m a tad envious of those arms… and that damn V. I can’t help noticing the tuft of sandy brown pubes sticking out below those abs. Damn.
I look up. Thank god I’m dark enough that it’s hard to see when I’m blushing, “Hey so… uh… I’m really sorry,” I hold out the box, with a pained expression, “this was delivered to me by accident… and I kind of opened it before realizing.”
He takes the box, cracks it open, and closes it quickly. His expression is totally unreadable. He remains silent.
“So yeah… sorry about that.” I begin to turn away and flee back into my apartment.
“Uh… no problem man, but…” I stop. Shit, “since you’ve seen it, d’you think it’s a good one?”
“What?”
He looks away for a moment, his face is angular and pale, I can see the color rising, “I mean… you’re gay… do you think this is a good one for guys?”
I pick my jaw up off the floor, and for a moment I’m about to protest. I’m out, but being identified by strangers can still make me squirm sometimes. Shit, of course he know’s I’m gay, he’s been listening to me fuck guys through the same shitty walls. I take a deep breath, “Well… I didn’t exactly get a good look at the package, but it looks OK, just have to remember to only use water based lube with these.”
He nods sagely, before pausing for a moment, “Is it… too big? Not big enough?”
I chuckle awkwardly, “Wow… ok… uh… that’s going to depend on a couple of things.”
There’s a loud series of beeps from inside his apartment, “Oh shit, my water’s ready.” He turns before stopping and looking at me, “You mind coming in for a second?”
