That's What friends are for

Chapter 2

I looked down at Mila's legs stretched out in front of me. Her feet were bare, and my eyes lingered on the butterfly tattoo on the top of her left foot. I let my gaze wander up her long legs, which I had to assume were under the baggy jeans. While she looked to her left watching the kids who were running around the small playground, I focused on her chest.

There was nothing visible in the loose shirt. Not for the first time, I wondered what she had under there. I wasn't interested in the sense that I wanted her, but in the years I'd known her I'd never seen Mila wear anything tight or even slightly revealing.

She never attended any school dances and even when we went swimming a few times she wore shorts and a T-shirt. That was pretty much the only time I'd seen her legs, which although on the slender side, looked pretty good.

I went back to looking at the tattoo. It was colorful and in what I considered a sexy spot, yet she rarely even wore sandals to show it off. Her toenails were painted black, and I noticed a silver ring around her middle toe.

Mila had once commented she had a boyfriend who liked her feet. I idly wondered if that was why she had gotten the tattoo and wore the ring. Not wanting to look like I was staring, I glanced up.

Mila had finished eating and was resting her head against the tree with her eyes closed. I'd meant what I said; she was cute. Mila never wore makeup but didn't seem to need to. Her skin was smooth and her cheeks had a natural color to them, and she had the longest eyelashes I'd ever seen.

Those lashes, along with her huge brown eyes, she used to good effect on me, as well as her older siblings and her father. Her mother had the same eyes and would always tell Mila to knock it off, that she had created that look and was immune to it.

The use of her big eyes was usually coupled with her pushing her lips into a little-girl pout. Mila's lips were full, and I'd once overheard a couple of guys saying she had blow-job lips. I flashed back to a couple of minutes ago when she made a show of blowing the banana and how her lips had looked wrapped around it. I shook my head.

Taking a bite of the sandwich, I looked back down at her foot, wondering what the hell a guy would do with her feet. I moved away from that image, thinking things were getting bad when I was starting to think about Mila's sexual escapades.

But all that would change, and soon. A smile crossed my face at the thought of what I had planned for tomorrow night. Mom and her boyfriend Mike were leaving this afternoon to go visit friends in New Hampshire and wouldn't be home until Monday.

Lucy had been hinting that she was getting comfortable enough to want to sleep together, and when I mentioned my mom would be away for the weekend, she asked if I wanted company.

Lucy, who was pretty much Mila's opposite was blonde with baby-blue eyes. Whereas Mila was tall and a little on the skinny side, Lucy was short with a pair of huge tits that, as Mila had said, she did flaunt. Her ass was damn fine too and she wasn't shy about showing it off.

I couldn't wait to get a look at those tits, to feel them, suck on them, and maybe even get my cock between them like in the dirty movies I got off to every night.

Well, tomorrow night I'd be getting off with the real thing. The idea of having Lucy naked in my bed caused my cock to swell. At the same time, a twinge of nerves fluttered though my stomach. Lucy didn't know it was my first time.
I supposed I should have mentioned it, but she had experience and I didn't want to look like an idiot. But now that it seemed the time had finally arrived, I was going to be nervous with only porn videos to go by and with a girl who'd done it before. What if I went off quick or didn't get her off quick enough? What if—

"Why are you staring at my foot?"

I looked up. "Huh?"

"You keep looking at my feet." Mila wiggled her toes. "Something wrong with them?"

"No, they look fine."

"You think my feet are fine?" She laughed. "You have a foot fetish?"

"Of course not!" Not wanting to be teased, I turned the conversation in another direction. "So why do you do that?"

"What?" She frowned, looking at her feet. "The tattoo?"

"Yeah, that and the nails and the ring. You hardly ever wear sandals, even when it's hot, so what's the point?"

"The point is I know it's there and I like how the ring looks." Mila shrugged. "I do it for me, not anyone else."

I grinned at her. "What about foot boy?"

"I didn't get the tattoo for him. I had just gotten it when I met him." She winked. "But he said it made a hell of a bull's-eye."

"Eww!" I scrunched my face up. "TMI!"

Mila giggled. "But anyway, it's about what's on the inside, Lauren—not the outside."

"I get that with feelings and stuff, but why does it matter with looks?"

"Because vain people are shallow people." Mila reached out and put her hand on my leg. "But you're different, though. You dress like the cool jerk, but you're a great guy."

"I don't dress like—"

"Bullshit!" She pointed at my sunglasses. "How much were those things?"

"A hundred, but they're Foster—"

"Mine came from the dollar store and they do the trick." She pulled on my shorts. "What brand are these?"

"They're—" I started, but she continued.

"And that's an Abercrombie and Fitch T-shirt you're wiping your sweaty face on. What was that, thirty dollars? And you're wearing it to clean up a park." Pointing at her shirt, she said, "This shirt was ten dollars and the jeans were the same on sale. My whole outfit with my sneakers is less than your damn shorts."

"It shows." I smirked.