Not what you were kind of hoping for. Deon has a brown paper bag.

Deon's laughter booms through the door, and you can see him clutching his stomach as he laughs. You glare at him through the glass even as your face reddens.

Having expected to see the black boy standing with a monstrous hard-on in front of your parent's front door you're a little disappointed to see that while he is clutching something it's a brown paper bag.

"What is it?"

"Let me in and you'll see."

"No. What is it?"

"Like I said, the solution to all your needs."

"P... pregnancy test?" you stammer, horrified by the words even as you utter them.

"Nope."

"Condoms? It's a little late for those," you grouse.

"Nope," he grins.

"It better not be a dildo."

Deon laughs uproariously, and your face remains red, maybe even darker than before. Still, the panic you'd been earlier feeling has subsided to a dull hum. Or maybe that's the familiar pulse of arousal you always seemed to get around your best friend's brother.

"Brown bag... must be porn! Aw, Deon, you gonna show me your collection of she-male porn?"

"Oh God woman, don't be foul. I'll show you my porn any day of the week, but she-males aren't in it. Now open up and let me in."

"Show me what's in the bag."

"Only if you let me in."

"I'm not letting you in until you show me what's in the bag."

"But if you won't open the door I can't give you what's in the back."

"I can open the door if I like what's in the bag. Wait, it doesn't have a hole in the bottom, does it?"

Deon looks flabbergasted for a moment, looking down at the bag he's holding at waist height. Then understanding seems to dawn and he bursts into laughter again.

"Open... open the damn door woman!"