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Somewhere, deep inside, I know that I only happy because La Contessa tell me to be, but I no care. There are many people in world who are not happy, and plenty of people who only happy because others tell them to be. I am one of those ones.’ ‘Oh, we have a friend you should meet who can tell you all about that. And enough of this Signor/Signora shit. I’m Troy and that’s Julie.’ Maria’s eyes lit up as she heard the name. ‘You are Troy? Propappou Byroni, he YOUR Propappou?’ Troy nodded. ‘I must take you somewhere, show you something. I apologize, Signora… Julie. Ferrari only have two seats, and he need to see more than you.’ Troy nodded again. ‘I’ll get dressed,’ he said pulling down his swimming trunks from the beach visit. Maria gasped and stared at the tool dangling between his legs. Troy registered this and reached for his smoking jacket to cover up. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, Maria! All of the other women in this room have seen me nude many times and I’m just used to getting undressed. I felt uncomfortable enough around her and her clothes. The way she dressed made me crazy and I knew she would tease me all afternoon if I let her. It was my own fault really, I approached her at her last ‘fashion show’ and offered to take some pictures. I really did like her designs, but mostly because of my own peculiar fetishes. Leena worked a lot with sweaters and wool, knit creations she called them, and those creations did something to me. I remember clearly her first show, and the first model, coming out in a striped wool tube dress that started at the chin and descended all the way to her ankles. It gave me goose bumps. So I had become friends with her, even shot some photos, but I did not think I could try any of her clothes on without revealing my…peculiarities. And here she was asking me to stand in for her model, while she finished her latest dress: an angora sweater dress that looked like something Morticia Adams would wear. I stammered another excuse and Leena.
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