I Accidentally Opened My Neighbor's Pack

I was still catching my breath when the knock came. Just got back from the gym — chest day, heavy sets, the kind of workout that leaves you buzzing for hours. I had the shake in my hand, stirring it while I walked to the door, not even thinking about putting on a shirt. Why would I? It's my home. I like feeling the air on my skin after training, the sweat drying slowly, the pump still making everything look full and hard.

I opened the door and there he was. My neighbor — the quiet one from down the hall. Cute. Always thought so. Months of elevator rides and "tak" when I held the door, and now he's standing in my doorway looking like he's about to faint. His face was red, practically burning, and he was holding something behind his back, then shoving it forward like it might bite him.

I looked down. A box. My box. The one I'd been waiting for — new plug, the heavy one with the blue jewel, some lube, that dildo I wanted to try. I recognized the discreet brown cardboard immediately.

And then I saw his eyes. The way they dropped to my chest, to my shorts — gray compression, soaked through from the workout, clinging to every inch of my thighs, my groin, everything. He couldn't look away. I felt that familiar rush, the one I always get when someone admires what I've built. I didn't move to cover myself. I stood taller instead, let him look, took a sip of my shake while I watched him struggle.

He tried to say something, stammering, something about wrong delivery and opening by accident. I didn't really listen. I was too busy enjoying how flustered he was, how his hands shook holding my toys, how his eyes kept darting back to the outline of my cock through the fabric.

I laughed. Couldn't help it — a real one, from deep in my chest. The situation was too perfect. Months of nothing, and now here he was, delivering my sex toys to my door, unable to form a sentence while staring at my body.

"Ja?" I said, smiling at him, letting my voice stay warm. "Hi, neighbor."

I took the box from him — he practically shoved it at me, poor thing — and tucked it under my arm like it was groceries. Didn't even glance inside. I knew what was there. What I wanted to know was what he thought about it, what images were playing in his head now that he knew exactly what I liked.

"Ah, for helvede..." I said, still grinning. "So you know my secrets now, ja?"

I watched him flush deeper. It was adorable. I wiped some sweat from my temple with my shoulder — let him see the muscle flex, the size of my arm — and stepped back, opening the door wider. The air from my apartment hit us, warm and smelling like coffee and clean sweat.

"I was just making coffee," I said, nodding toward the kitchen. "You should come in. Sit down. You look like you need it."