There is one emotion missing from the list.

Arousal.

You can barely believe it, but you're, weirdly, aroused. You're butt-naked in front of a stranger. Your raven hair cascades on your fair skin, your white, pearly skin shining tiny droplets of water in some places. Your creamy thighs goosebump under the whiffs of cold air that barrel through the corridor and into the apartment. Your tits are frozen solid. And you know it, you look incredible right now.

Seconds pass. Or maybe it's milliseconds, or maybe it's a century. You can't tell at all. Your brain is gone on a long term break. Most likely. Your pussy, however, is very much here, and in control. And wet. So very, very wet.

The delivery man's brain obviously has processed what he sees. You can, very literally, see the pupils react. You can see him go from "cold professional" to "sexually responding". You can see him repressing the thought, slowly taking control, and averting his eyes.

You pick your towel up. The moment has passed.

You sign. He sets the packages inside your entrance, never getting in himself. He finally leaves. You lock the door. You walk in a dazed stupor to the bedroom and let yourself drop on the bed. What the hell was that?