Your best friend Kira

“Hey hon, come on over,” I say, happy to have the company.

“Getting a little personal here, aren’t we?” Kira asked as she came over to sit in the chair next to me glancing at my body. “Aren’t you afraid the neighbors will notice?”

“You want to know a little secret?” I whisper, leaning a little closer to her, feeling a thrill wash over me, “They already have.”

We both giggle, and I offer her something to drink. Despite the early hour, both of you decide it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a cold beer to fight against the weather, even though nice now it will be heating up some

Kira is a good friend I have had for a while. Met her at a bar when Carl and I were out. She was of Mexican decent, shorter than me and thicker. She was wasn’t fat but wasn't "rail thin" like accused me of being. Brown long hair. Wavy. Large breasts and always wearing shirt too small for them. She would dress in always the most casual clothes possible but the most loud. She had a neo punk/80's 90's going on. Despite all that she always looked good.

“So, what did you mean earlier?” Kira finally asked, after both of us had retired back to the lounge chairs and had finished off half of the bottles.

“About what?” I asked, taking another swig of the beer I was working on.

“About the neighbors. You said that they’d already noticed. Did you have someone peeking over the fence today?” Kira asked.

“Oh, no, not today. You actually came over about the time that I had just taken my top off. It’s just, well, I do this a lot.”

“Walk around nude? Ooo, kinky!” Kira giggled and finished off her beer. “May I have another bottle?”

“Sure, be my guest." I said handing her a beer from our now dwindling pile. " So, anyway, I’ve just had a few close encounters when I’ve been out here sunbathing or taking it easy. I guess, I’ve gotten used to the idea that half of the people on this block potentially know my cup size. Or at least make a descent guess."

Both laughed. This neighborhood is straight up the worse. Everyone always poking their nose in everyone's business. It could be a good sitcom. She doesn’t fit and doesn't try to either. I like that about her.

“So,” she said, leaning a little closer to me with a strange grin on her face, “what sort of things have happened?”

“Well there was the time that…”