The next evening after I got home from work, I rang Toby's phone to tell him I couldn't make our hike next weekend because of a mandatory work seminar of some sort. He expressed his disappointment. "Dang, boss, I was looking forward to another visit from the purple people pleaser."
"Gonna have to postpone that visit, scout." I tingled all over thinking of that last one. "Purple prick is on hiatus. But I'll tell you what. Why don't you come over to my place for pizza on Thursday after work? You can have your pie, and eat it, too," I paused. "But there's one special stipulation, hoss. You have to meet the delivery guy at the door to pay him completely nude. No hiding or shyness."
A long silence ensued. "But, bossman, er...but, uumm...er," Toby stammered, "er...my sack..."
"It's a yes or no answer, Toby," I said in my sternest dom voice. "Whadd'll it be?"
Another silence. I waited him out. "Yes," he whispered. "What? I couldn't hear that."
"Yes," he declared more clearly. "Good man! I'll see you Thursday around six."
--------------------
Toby rolled in driving his snazzy sportscar right on time. He came in and kissed me, looking like he was about to be ambushed. "You sure about this, Jace?' he asked hopefully, sure I had changed my mind.
"I'm sure. Strip," and he did, much to my delight. He seemed nervous, though, and his cock remained limp. Eyeing him lustily, I phoned in an order for a couple of pizzas with various toppings to be delivered to my door. I thought Toby's prick shriveled a bit more as I spoke, but he still looked amazing.
His sea-colored eyes pleaded with me to relent. I acted like I hadn't noticed and busied myself getting down glasses for iced tea and prepping the coffee to brew later. Waiting for that ding-dong doorbell.
Toby was, too, but not with the anticipation I was. "Sit," I told him, pushing him down on the couch. "Relax a little. You're stiffer than six broom handles, and I don't mean your manpleaser," I teased, fondling said manpleaser. No response.
I attempted to make small talk, but Toby remained stubbornly curt, unyielding in his anxiousness. After what seemed like an eternity, the inevitable ding-dong sent a bolt of panic through Toby. He looked at me with startled, unbelieving eyes. "Showtime," I announced unnecessarily. "You've got this, poet. You look beautiful," I encouraged, trying to boost his confidence.
I fished money from my wallet and tucked it into his clenched, sweaty fist. The doorbell chimed again. I slapped his asscheek to urge him on his way. He started, then bolted, evidently wanting to get it over with since he saw no escape.
"Remember, no hiding or shyness," I reminded him, calling after his retreating form. I saw him pause and take a deep breath, then he jerked the door open and stood there almost proudly, I thought.
The delivery guy started, "Got a couple pizzas for..." and he trailed off as he got a good look at his door greeter. He stepped back a little, stunned at the sight before him. "I...ulp...er...." Helplessly, his eyes moved to Toby's shaved crop circles and his abundant chest fur, dropping slowly to take in Toby's stubbled pubes and his stretched scrotum.
Toby still wore his ball weight, and the guy's eyebrows almost lifted off his head as he ogled Toby's hairy ball tufts that sprigged wildly. He lingered in his perusal of Toby's jaunty blue bow I had tied on last weekend.
