She was my age, plus or minus a year. Copper red hair that hung to her belt. Right now that hair was loose with some of it hanging down her front over...her left breast and the rest down her back. She was a little taller than I was, maybe an inch at most. And the breast that wasn't obscured by hair looked about softball size.Her white t-shirt with a picture of the three Jimmy Neutron girls was tied off at her midriff. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I could tell that her areola was about the size. I believed it except for how many girls he slept with, Ian wasn’t that stupid or low.Laughing at his comment I blurt, ‘Yeah, I know.’‘You two were friends weren’t you?’ Ian asks while he continues to strum his guitar.I shrug. ‘I guess you could say so.’‘Well then maybe you can tell me why she’s such a whore,’ he says. We both fall in a fit of laughter. Once all laughter was done Ian went back to writing. After a few moments of silence, he asks, ‘Why would you associate yourself with someone. More

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