25

He pulled a chair up and sat down before me, spreading his legs to have me between his knees. I set my jaw and looked away when he unbuckled my belt, staring out the window at the other side of the Square across the garden. I felt him undo the buttons to my fly and pull it open.

“What the fuck’s this shit?” he asked angrily.

I glanced down and found him pulling from my briefs. I met his eyes with the best poker face I was able to manage in my situation.

“It’s called underwear.”

“Didn’t I tell you yesterday I don’t like briefs?” He sounded really pissed off, which was somehow funny.

“Yeah, well, sorry for not having you in mind when I get dressed.”

“And who did you have in mind when you picked this? Your girlfriend? You think this ugly rag turns her on?

“She doesn’t give a shit. She cares about the content, not the wrapping.”

“Did she tell you that? Or that’s what you think?” He pulled the jeans further open to let the briefs’ fly visible. “If she said so, she was lying through her tee