Even after six years here she still had lots of questions for me, and I was always happy to answer them.
I noticed she seemed more relaxed here then she was at my place, and she was more "touchy-feel-y". Mila would always brush up against me, or touch my arm or leg, place her hand on my shoulder. But now her hand would linger on my leg longer, on my upper thigh, or she'd lean up against me, pressing her decent-sized young breasts into me. She'd even sit on my lap sometimes, in just shorts and a halter top. Sometimes I could see down it, at her bra or even braless breasts. The dark-areolaed nipples were always engorged.
One evening came out and admitted she liked being further away from her parents so they didn't know what she was doing.
"And, ummm, I always wanted to tell you, I really like you, Jim," Mila said coyly.
"I like you too," I replied, smiling. As a daughter of course.
"I have a crush on you," She came right out and said. I was floored. I didn't know what to say.