Not like you haven’t seen more than that before!”“That’s not it,” I muttered. Then, regaining some composure and looking up at her I smirke... and said, “Excited much?”Catching on to my meaning immediately, Jess flipped up her skirt, and looked down at her panties to see a very large, very dark, very obvious wet spot that, because her panties were white, made her slit and puffy lips completely visible through the panties. I heard her stutter out, “I knew I was wet, but I didn’t think I was that. It's only fair."Even in my current mood, I had to laugh when what she said hit me. I replied, "Alright, Nancy. We will get you into the tub and I'm calling 9-1-1." NO! No police! NO!" Nancy seemed frantic all of a sudden. "I won't go through that again! No! Promise you won't call them! Ron! Please promise!" Taken aback by her outburst and the panicked tone she carried in her entreaties, I assured her that I would not call. I would try to talk some reason into her later when things had calmed a. He loved her. He had always loved her. He always would. But there was no pain now. They were friends again, and that was more than he had ever dreamed was possible. And he determined in his mind that that would be enough. Not because he willed it. It just was. To be her friend again, to have a place, however small, in her heart--that would be, it was, enough. They spoke three or four times a week. They were rekindling an old friendship, but that undercurrent was still there. He wondered what. Smiling at her briefly, I headed for the park bench that was all too familiar, unaware that she was just a few steps behind me. Mabel wasn’t there, probably had to bake something for the church. Musing it was a good thing since I was scantily clad in walking shorts and her dogs’ claws were never trimmed. Glancing towards the little house that I owned across the noisy street from the park, I recalled I had virtually raised my daughter alone there after my betrothed left for a stud with a much.