I mean it,” she said.“Yeah, for me too. But not for him I guess. I mean he and I were close, and you’re right. All of us were. But for him there... was never going to be a situation where he was willing to share you in any truly intimate way. He was, and likely still is, way too square for any of that,” said Rodney. “The son-of-a-gun loved you real hard and deep, maybe too much if that’s even possible.”“Oh, and how much do you love me, Rodney Pollard?” she said, and it was a serious question.“More. She screams, the hell are you doing and I am startled and quickly drop her panties and try to pull up my shorts. I stumble with my words not knowing what to stay. She comes in the room and walks straight up to me and demands that I tell her what I'm doing jacking off with her panties. I stumble more with my words and my shorts. She reaches down and grabs my cock that I haven't been able to put away and asks if I liked jacking off with her panties around my cock and I said yes, very much. My. Then, he realized how important she was to him. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. Reflexively, her face assumed a startled expression which was quickly replaced by a quizzical look. “I didn’t want to offend you,” he said, drowning in her green eyes. “I still flinch when someone touches me unexpectedly. Immobility makes me feel vulnerable.” “I will never do that again. I sympathize with your predicament.” “Yes, I am to be pitied. The poor woman, whose body was crushed, who can do. I’ll finish the whole story,” Lizzy said, smiling. “But pour me some more wine, and keep it coming. I’m so dry I’m spitting cotton!” She continued: The Frenchman looked concerned, but not afraid. He seemed surprised that I spoke French so well, but not as surprised as the men. They looked at me with what I decided to consider respect and confidence. Perhaps, they must have thought, I might be able to get them out of this mess. At the time, I thought maybe I could. At least this guy was.