One afternoon, I’d just come home from a day on the town with my best friend since childhood, Nancy, and her at-the-time girlfriend, Nina. The three of us had gone up to my room, where Nina was modeling clothes for us and trying to decide on an outfit for our local Pride.
The last look she showed us (and I think, secretly, the one she’d had her heart set on from the beginning) was just a black bra and matching boyshorts. It was still early in her and Nancy’s relationship, and I hadn’t been open about my exhibitionist tendencies yet, but seeing her like that, I couldn’t help but fawn and tell her how gorgeous she looked, saying that I wished I could be that bold, to think about wearing just that in public.
Nancy side-eyed me slightly, and I realized that what I said could be construed as flirting and began to apologize, but Nancy laughed it off. She was just worried that I was embarrassed about the overshare. I thought about it, and decided I wasn’t. Nina’s opinion meant a lot to me, but I wasn’t about to tell her to hide her light under a bushel just so I could keep my composure.
Later that afternoon, we were all in my kitchen eating snacks out of the fridge when I started to get anxious my father would come home. He was, and still is, a very sweet old man, but also very conservative, and it made me nervous to think about explaining my best friend’s scantily clad girlfriend, so I asked them to leave, but tried to do so politely so Nina wouldn’t be upset.
“Before I go,” she said, “I want to give you something to remember me by.”
She stripped out of her bra and boyshorts, and stood naked in the middle of my kitchen.
“Take them,” she said, handing me her discarded clothes. “That way I have a reason to come back.”
“You’re not going to walk to your car like that?” I asked her.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t done it,” she responded.
It would have been a lie to say I hadn’t ever, though only in the dead of night under cover of darkness, and even then I’d been terrified of getting spotted.
She asked me if anyone was around, to which I replied that our next door neighbors weren’t usually home at this hour, but that she could never be completely sure whether or not someone saw her. As far as I know, no-one did.