Friday night. I had no plans. I had just gotten back from the gym and was planning on spending a quiet night at home alone. By choice. I could go out but, naw, didn't interest me. Didn't feel like calling up any friends, just needed some alone time. I could have worked out at home because I have a weight room upstairs, but decided to go to the gym after work and use some of their machines that I didn't have. Needed a more vigorous workout tonight.

I came in and tossed my bag on the table and checked the machine for messages. There were a couple but nothing that interested me. I finally had the house to myself for the weekend. I was going to make the best of it. But what's a 30 something year old man doing home alone on a Friday night? Who the fuck cares? I just wanted to take a hot shower and maybe watch a movie or something. My body was sore and tired both from work and the strenuous work out I had just put it through.

I went into the bathroom and started the shower. I stripped off my sweats and stood looking at myself in the full-length mirror. "Not bad, not bad", I said aloud as I stroked my smooth bulging pecs and let my hand wander down to my sore abs. Not bad for a man of my age. I grinned at the reflection in the mirror. Stud.

I'm 6 foot and about 195 pounds and pride myself in keeping my body toned like a fine tuned instrument. I always felt there wasn't any reason to let yourself go, even if you were over 30! So I went to the gym about once a week and worked out at home almost on a daily basis in my upstairs weight room. I'm not a muscle freak, but I like to keep in shape.

I stepped into the shower and let the hot spray hit my tense muscles and soaped up. Thinking of my plans for the night, I decided on a couple of beers and just kick it around the house. No kids home tonight, the wife is gone and it's just me. Cool. It felt good to be a bachelor again for just a night. Hell, I could even burp out loud if I wanted to and didn't even have to get dressed! This was gonna be my night.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off my smooth, hard body. I had a little hair on my legs and in all the right places in the groin area, but pretty much was smooth all over except for the hair on my legs. This was a plus for a body builder. They always have to shave but nature had smiled down on me. I was just too cool. And, I was also too full of myself, I thought sardonically.

I pulled a pair of my white jockey shorts on, opting for a tight fit instead of my boxers tonight. I felt daring. I liked the way my soft cock looked like a snake nestled inside the white fabric. What the hell? I'll be home alone.

I padded into the kitchen naked except for my jockeys and looked in the fridge. Hmmm, nothing, dammit. I ran a hand through my light brown wet hair and saw the Pizza Delivery phone number stuck on the front of the fridge door over a painful looking drawing that one of the kids had done. I took the card off of the fridge and walked into the den, picking up the phone.

I stood there in my shorts and looking outside, thought I had better close the blinds before my neighbors got a good look at me running around like this and flipped out. They always reminded me of the neighbors from that old T.V. sitcom, Bewitched.

I dialed the number on the card. A nice young lady answered the phone and I placed my order. I ordered a big 'ol pizza. What the hell? I could eat the rest for breakfast. She said it would be about an hour.

I went back to the fridge and pulled out a six pack of Bud. In the bottle, since I don't like the way the beer tastes in a can. I twisted one open, and, as I walked into the living room, I put the bottle to my lips and drank deeply. Mmm, it was cold and refreshing and I felt the familiar burning sensation as it went down my throat.

I sat the six pack on the coffee table, good thing I was alone, I'd get yelled at for that one! I plopped down on the sofa and picked up the remote. Putting my bare feet up on the table, I started flipping through the channels as I downed the beer. Damn, my feet were cold. I ran upstairs real quick and got a pair of my white tube socks. I got an old pair that fit lose and sloppy. This was guys night. Then I went back and put them on while putting the remote on Search. Hmmm, nothing of interest on.

Wait. There was the History channel. That looked kind of interesting for now. I might have to dig through my videos later to see what I could find, but for now, this would do. I kicked my sock-clad feet back up on the table and uncapped another brew. I drank deeply while watching some shit about Hitler and that crazy woman he was with. Ahhhh, this was the life.

My hair was dry now and I leaned my head back on the couch and watched T.V. The evening was going to be perfect. Now all I needed was my damned pizza. I checked my watch. Another thirty minutes at best. I downed my beer and uncapped another one. I ran the cold bottle up my muscled thigh and started feeling the corded muscles. Damn, I was doing well. My thighs were well muscled without being obscenely large and well defined. I let my hand go to my flat stomach and, just for shits and giggles, pounded my fist into the hard, ribbed flesh. Ompf! Yeah, that was a washboard. I did enough crunches and sit-ups, it damn well better be! My hand wandered down the trail of brown fuzz starting at my navel to the waistband of my shorts. I let my hand slip underneath the waistband and my fingertips ran right into my dormant manhood. I wrapped my fist around the limp member and squeezed. Nothing. But, that was okay. Couldn't do anything about it anyway.

I pulled my hand out and finished my second beer and uncapped another one. Oh yeah, I was gonna have fun tonight. No reason not to. As the beer warmed my belly, I let my hand glide over the outline of my dick in my tight white shorts. Remembering a game from my youth, I stuck my tongue in the opening of the neck of the bottle and begin tonguing it like I was rimming it. Hmmm, interesting. My dick started to grow under my hand. I rubbed it even more and then wrapped my lips around the neck of the bottle. Without thinking, I started sliding the bottle in and out of my mouth. That was a familiar feeling, but didn't think about it. Pretty soon, I was rubbing my hard 9 inch cock through the thin fabric and sucking on the bottle like it was a...well, I don't know. It just all felt pretty damned good.

I pulled my shorts down around my full balls and begin making my cock throb on my flat belly. Still, with the bottle in my mouth, sucking on it like a baby nursing. My big mushroomed head ballooned up against my flat stomach. I took the hard shaft in my hand and squeezed it. I was pleased to see a shiny drop of precum glisten on the head. I grinned to myself and snapped the elastic waistband back up over my hard cock. The head stubbornly stayed outside of my shorts and I had to laugh at myself. I tucked the defiant little head back into the confines of my shorts and polished off the rest of the bottle.

I uncapped another one. I flipped through the channels some more. Man, I was getting bored. Where the fuck was that pizza? Flipping. Still flipping. Oh, here's something. Took another swallow of my Bud and tuned into some crazy ass sitcom. I figured I'd just stay on this until my pizza got here and then I'd plug in a movie and gorge myself.

Finally, the doorbell rang. I looked up at the clock. "Christ," I muttered to myself. "It's been over an hour and a half. There goes this guy's tip."

I went to the door in my underwear and socks, beer in hand. There stood a skinny kid holding my pizza.

"You ordered a pizza, Sir?"

"Yeah, it's about time!"

"Sorry, Sir. I had a flat on the way."

I looked at the skinny kid. Being a weightlifter, you always looked at other guys and sized them up. He had short blond hair, a hoop earring in his ear and, hell, he even had a smudge of grease on the side of his face! He stood about 5'6" and I guessed that he weighed about 150 pounds. Not much but he looked young and had time to grow. My mind processed all this in a matter of seconds as he stood there looking at me apologetically.

"How much do I owe you, kid?"

Balancing the pizza in one hand, he looked at some sort of log book and said, "Uh, that comes to $19.95." Then he added, "Please."

I grunted. "Well, that wipes out a twenty, doesn't it?"

He smiled. "Yes Sir."

"Hold on, man. I need to get some cash." I turned to leave and had a second thought. "Better yet, come on in and wait. I'll be right back."

"Yes sir." He stepped inside the doorway and looked around cautiously.

I left him standing in the entryway holding the pizza as I ran upstairs to get my wallet. I yelled down the stairs, "You can just sit it on the coffee table!"

He called back, "Yes Sir."

I thought about pulling a twenty out of my wallet and then decided just to bring the whole damn thing down so I could figure out a tip. Shit, it wasn't his fault he had a flat.

I came back downstairs and he was standing in the middle of the living room in this ridiculous pizza outfit. He was wearing a red and white striped t-shirt of some kind and a pair of baggy white cotton pants. I noticed a swipe of black grease on his pants up by his thigh and saw that both of his knees were dirty from, what I supposed was dirt from changing the tire.

I suspected the baggy pants were his own choice. The fashion statement of the younger generation. But, I did have to admit, it always made you wonder what was underneath. Thank God the girls weren't doing it! However, the skin tight red and white striped t-shirt was definitely company issue and did show off a slim torso and the beginnings of what I might consider a chest someday. Man, I was critical.

I stood in my jockey shorts and white socks rummaging through my wallet as he patiently waited. I could feel myself weaving a little. Hell! I'd already had 5 beers, for crying out loud. I finally found a twenty and a five and handed it to him. When I looked up, I saw him eyeing my beer with longing.

When I handed him the cash, I said, "Here's twenty and five for you," I glanced up at his shirt and saw the nametag that said, "Anthony." I added, "Tony, huh?"

He took the money and said, "Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much. No, it's Anthony. Tony is just too ordinary."

I looked up at the boy. "Oh, great, a little attitude, huh?" I thought to myself. However, out loud I said, "Oh, sorry. Anthony it is. I've had a few beers, so sorry."

He looked over at the beers. "Yeah, I can see."

He grinned. Nice looking boy. Friendly face, polite. Rare these days.

"So, you got some hot plans for this big Friday night?" I asked.

"Not really, no Sir. It's been a long day at work. Friday nights are always our busiest."

"Hmm, bummer, man", I answered in mock sympathy. Then I added, "I'm just kickin' it tonight. No wife, no kids, just hangin' out."

"Sounds like fun, Sir."

I looked at him as he was stuffing the money in his baggy pants pockets and heading for the door. I don't know where it came from or why, but suddenly, I said, "Hey, Anthony. If you want, you can come by here after your last stop and have a beer with me. You are over 21, I hope."

He hesitated. "This is my last stop, Sir. And I just turned 21 two days ago."

I was feeling the booze. "Well, Happy fuckin' Birthday!" I exclaimed. "How about a beer to celebrate?" I clapped him soundly on the back. A manly man's pat.

He looked over at the beer. "Well, uh...sure, I guess. If you don't mind, I could have one before I hit the road."

I was feeling very friendly. "Hell! Have two, three or four, who cares? No one's gonna be home here all weekend! You're more than welcome to join me. It's gonna be a "just us guys night" here at the homestead."

He grinned sheepishly. "Sounds good, Sir. But I won't stay long. It looks like you're about ready for bed. I don't want to keep you up." He was looking at my shorts.

I looked down. "Oh, these. Hell no! I'm just being casual, man. And quit calling me sir! The name's Mike. Come on have a brew." I went to the coffee table and tossed a bottle of Bud at him.

He caught it skillfully and twisted the cap without effort. I watched as he put the bottle up to his lips and drank deeply. For a split second, I recalled the bottle going in and out of my mouth earlier when I was alone. I wondered what he would think about that. Oh, the freaky things we do when we're alone. If only these walls could talk.

He downed over half of the beer and I stared in awe, watching his Adam's apple going up and down under the smooth, taut skin of his hairless neck. I was feeling good and there was this excitement that I didn't recognize or acknowledged that was lying underneath it all. Just waiting there like a spider. But, hell, I was just high from the beer.