Photographer: Davide Padovan
I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto the back of a chair.
I’d honestly never felt so self-conscious, sat there, suddenly nude. Lisa sat back beside me in her PVC dress and boots.
“What…” I began, “What am I going to be wearing?”
Lisa looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you know Tina?” she asked me. I nodded, although I only barely knew the girl she was talking about.
“She has something for you to put on,” she told me.
“And where’s Tina?”
“She’s on her way. Or at least she said she’d get her early.”
I looked wistfully at my clothes crumpled on the chair: I’d have preferred to have gotten undressed after my outfit had arrived, not before. Then I glanced up at the table across the room, laid out with drinks and empty glasses. I noticed what looked like a pair of handcuffs on the far corner and then averted my eyes in embarrassment. I don’t know why.