Put your foot in it.

You're...startled. Your friend Ellen's roommate Amy, sitting across the booth from her, has her foot under Ellen's dress, right up to the top of her legs.

You look from Sherah's appraising face to Amy's big grin round to Ellen, sitting next to you with a pink flush on her cheeks and a dreamy look in her eyes.

Your waitress Kristra is bustling about, serving drinks to the other patrons. It looks like the couple who came in after you already have their food. Maybe they're regulars. No sign of yours yet.

"Yeah, who cares if it's Melissa Joan Hart or Sarah Jessica Parker," you say. "Who has time for TV anyway?" You shift a little in your seat, putting your left shoe on your right heel and working your shoe off.

"You must have an exciting life, cowboy," Amy says, keeping her big grin plastered on her face.

There's a little thump as your shoe hits the floor. Sherah narrows her eyes and gives a little smirk, then resumes her watchful look. Her silver-pearl pendant shifts on the skin exposed by her black tank top. You recall she's wearing short, frayed denim cutoffs, almost as open as a skirt from the bottom.

"Hardly," you say.

You slide your foot forward, then up toward Sherah and Amy's side of the table, aiming for Sherah. Before your foot reaches the level of the seat, Amy's hand catches your foot and lifts it up and rests it on the bench seat between her and Sherah.

"Ah, that's right, you're a good guy," Amy says. "Like Ellen told us. Not much chance for excitement." She gives your foot a couple of squeezes and pokes Sherah. Sherah looks at Amy, glances down, blinks and looks surprised for half a second before she regains her composure. Then Sherah's hand cups your heel.

"I'm sure Widley's not really the sleepy little country school you make it out to be," you say.

Ellen stifles a little giggle. She seems to be looking into space somewhere off Amy's shoulder.

"We have our moments," Amy says. She slips your sock off and runs her thumb over your big toe. "What shall we do with you, Mister Nice Guy?" The pad of her thumb slides smoothly over your toe, top, bottom, sides, and closely-trimmed nail. Apropos of nothing, she nods at you.

"Yeah," Sherah says, still watching your face. Her palm cups your heel, next to her on the seat.

Ellen sucks in a quick breath and blows it out. Her ears are looking pink, too.

"Whatever's fun," you say.

"What a nice guy," Amy says. "You want to be really nice, you can help me convince Ellen to go to the movies with us tonight, too." Amy squeezes your toe. Sherah runs her short fingernails along the soft arch of your foot. Your leg quivers.

"Mm," Ellen says vaguely.

"But we'll have to make the best of it," Amy says. "You have classic looks. You ever model for drawing?"

"No," you say.

"Oooh, a virgin," she says. "Maybe we'll have to start small, then. Just a couple of body parts. A hand, or a foot."

"Or a finger," Sherah says. "Or a toe."

"Uhhh...kk-hh!" Ellen says, cutting off a moan with a cough. She quivers on the seat beside you. A bead of sweat rolls from her temple down her cheek.

"Something like that," Amy says. "But what will we do with you now?"

Sherah and Amy exchange a look. Amy shifts your foot between her jean-clad legs. You feel her tug open her fly buttons. Your face feels hot.

But then she poises her fingertips as though to tickle the bottom of your foot and scrapes them just a little bit. Your leg twitches.

Your eyes widen. If she tickles you, you'll flinch hard enough that you might knock the table over. She wouldn't do that to you...to Ellen?....