As I drove out of Pueblo and headed home, Walt said very little. When I glanced over at him his eyes were closed and I asked if he was doing ok. He said he was, although he did allow that he was tired and “a little sore”.

I asked, “Are you in a lot of pain?”

He turned and looked at me. “Not a lot, just… very uncomfortable, I guess you’d say. Painkillers, you know. Hurts inside. The incision hurts when I move around, but this other is all the time.”

“That makes sense, with them poking around in there. They cut inside there too, so you need time to heal.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes again, and I left him alone other than to put my hand on top of his, where he’d left it on his leg. He turned his wrist so that my hand was in his palm, then we interlocked fingers before he squeezed my hand, continuing to hold on. He dozed for a while, I think, still holding my hand but shortly after we passed through Ca​ñon City he asked if I could stop so that he could get out and move around some.

I almost asked him if he needed a bathroom, thinking about his incontinence and sense of urgency issues the doctor and nurse had spoken of, but remembered that he still had the Foley catheter in place. I soon found a spot and pulled over, and he very gingerly got out of the Jeep and walked around slowly in the weeds along the highway. I got out and watched him for a moment and could see he was hurting.

“Walt, you ok?”

“I’m a little sore. You know, inside, like I said; it aches. The doc was right about that.”

The doctor had recommended this, knowing we had a long drive, in part to help avoid the possibility of blood clots in Walt’s legs, a danger following any surgery, but also because he’d warned Walt that sitting upright for long periods might be uncomfortable. He’d explained that the position put pressure on the perineum, the area just behind Walt’s testicles, the area analogous to the inner place where his prostate had been.

He’d said that the “insult”, as he’d called it, to the tissues and nerves in that area would cause pain and tenderness for some time, and that he’d likely find a somewhat reclined position far more comfortable than sitting upright until healing had taken place. He also warned him not to ride a bike for at least a couple of months. Walt had scoffed, telling the doctor that he hadn’t ridden a bike in decades, so at least that was one activity he wouldn’t miss. He’d sobered up when I asked about riding horses, and the doctor had said that sitting a saddle would be just as bad.

Walt had found that answer much more distressing. He’s a “get back in the saddle” kind of guy when something goes wrong, and for now, he could do so in neither the sexual nor the equine sense. He didn’t say anything then, but I knew he was disappointed that we couldn’t go riding for a while.

Once he’d walked around and felt better, we got back on the road. Since he was awake, I told him of our plan to move him into our home, at least for the first couple weeks until the staples were out and he was healing better. As expected, he objected to the idea, but I used our devilishly clever plan to explain that it was for our benefit, to make things easier for me and Richard. He grumbled but went along. I think he was grateful and felt better about being with us anyway, but felt obligated to make all the objections about being too much bother, imposing on us, etc. I’d nipped that early!

We stopped one more time, along the river just south of Salida for him to walk around again, then went on home. Richie held the dogs back so they wouldn’t jump on Walt and hurt him, but Darwin about fell apart he was so happy to have his person back; I don’t think he and Walt had ever been apart that long before. We got him moved in and settled – he objected again when he found out we’d vacated our room for him, but saw the sense of avoiding the stairs – and he laid down for a nap.

While he slept, we had a quick discussion and decided to run to his house and get his recliner; we don’t own one, but we now knew he’d be more comfortable if not forced to sit upright, so we made space, went and got it, and brought it in. We gave him a prime spot for TV viewing.

After our furniture moving we made some nachos - extra jalapenos - and sat at the kitchen table with a couple of beers while I filled him in on what the doctor and nurse had said. Richard asked some questions, sometimes shaking his head and making concerned sounds at some of the things Walt would have to deal with. When I was telling him about the wound care process, he said, “Are you sure you’re ok with doing this?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be? Someone has to, and you’re a lot more squeamish than me.”

“No, I didn’t mean that; I meant the whole, uh, very personal aspects of it. Kind of awkward and embarrassing, possibly.”

“More so for him than for me.”

“Yeah, no doubt. Still…”

I shook my head. “We’re all adults, Richie, and he knows we’re doing this out of love, and that he needs the care. I’ll do as the nurses do and just try to keep it professional and business-like. Besides, it’s medical care; it’s not like he got caught playing with himself or something. Now that, I could see him being embarrassed about!”

“Especially at his age.”

“At any age. I think that’s a universally embarrassing situation even though we all do it.”

“What? You masturbate?”

I laughed. “No, never. Not unless I have a free hand and a few spare minutes.”

“Well, you know that if I’m around you can just come and climb on. Face or cock, open for business!”

“Oh, I know, and I do, but you’re not always around.”

“Well, in that case, take pictures – or, better, video!”

“You bet. Post it online for all the horny guys?”

“Be sure to send me a link.”

I laughed. “Perv.”

 “Yes, but you knew that.”

I enjoyed our verbal sparring, especially about sexual things. It often worked as foreplay and led to better things, and might have then except we knew Walt would be awake and hopefully hungry soon. A little later, Richie browned and seasoned a package of ground beef, and I opened a few cans, grabbed some spices, herbs, and garlic, and made up my special recipe spaghetti sauce. Quick, easy, and only a few more minutes needed to make the pasta and garlic bread and we’d have a hearty dinner.

When Walt woke up he was hungry, so we had dinner a little early. He didn’t eat a lot but said he was full – and that the kitchen chair was becoming uncomfortable. He was touched and his eyes welled up when he saw that we’d fetched his recliner for him. I knew he was going to be emotional for a while due to the trauma he’d been through, but I still found it very sweet, and I was so glad we’d thought of it.

We watched a little TV, Walt mostly dozing, and then he and I retired to the master bathroom so that I could help him with emptying the catheter bag and cleaning up. He kept apologizing to me for having to do it until I said, “Walt, please stop! I don’t mind at all and it only takes a few minutes. You’ve done so much for us that it’s wonderful to be able to help you for a change, although I do wish it was something more enjoyable for you than this!”

“Well, thanks. You’re sweet and I do appreciate your help. I hope you don’t find it too embarrassing.”

“Me? I’m not the one with my privates on display!” I laughed when I said it, and he chuckled.

“True, I suppose. It doesn’t bother you though, to see that and have to touch me?”

“No, and I don’t want you to feel embarrassed either. Believe it or not, I’ve not only seen the occasional penis here and there, but I’ve also touched them before! Had them inside of me, even, and in my mouth. Occasionally, when the mood strikes, even up my keester. Honestly, Walt, dicks are my favorite piece of sports equipment.”

He was laughing, blushing crimson, but his exposure and what we were doing were completely forgotten. I’d hoped he would respond that way and that I could take some of the awkwardness off the table forever, and I think we had.

“Rayne, the way you talk! God, I never knew you were so crazy!”

“Well… I guess you should have dropped your pants sooner! I always get inspired that way.”

He grew serious. “Yes, sooner. Before I was ruined.”

“Walt, you’re not ruined; you just have a ‘Temporarily Out Of Order’ sign hung on it. You’ll be fine, but it takes time as the doctor said.” I finished cleaning him, made sure the tube was securely attached to the bag, and pulled his pajama bottoms up for him.

“There, all set.” I stripped off my latex gloves and moved to stand behind him, massaging his thick shoulders. “We’ll do it again in the morning and get your bandage changed, but if you need us during the night, just holler.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Richard.”

“Fortunately, you don’t have to think about that. You can focus on getting well.”

“Do you think I’ll ever be a man again?”

He’d surprised me, and I got a little choked up, hurting for him. “Walt, please! You’re one of the sexiest, manliest men I’ve ever known and this didn’t change that. Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m sorry. I just… do you think I’ll ever be functional?”

“My opinion isn’t worth any more than the doctor’s and he seems to think so. Were you ‘functional’, as you put it, before?”

He shrugged. “Not like I was twenty anymore, but yeah, usually.”

“From what I’ve read about this surgery, that’s a good sign. I guess if you could have a good erection before it’s a good indicator of how likely you are to recover that ability. Especially since the nerves weren’t damaged.”

“Oh yeah?”

I shrugged. “That’s what I read. I’ve been doing some studying on this, hoping to be able to be of some help. Out of curiosity, you said you were ‘usually’ functional; what did you do in the event of a failure to launch?”

He laughed. “God! I never imagined us having these conversations.”

I smiled. “Me either, and yet here we are. So…?”

“Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Got embarrassed, apologized, and then made sure that she still had a very enjoyable time. Sometimes that even resolved the issue.”

I laughed. “Perfect! That’s just exactly the right way to handle it, I think. Do you like performing oral… I hope?”

“Rayney! This is all so personal.”

I kissed his forehead. “It is, but remember, I just had your dick in my hand a few minutes ago, so I think we’ve broken that barrier.”

He was laughing at me, but he agreed. “Yes, I suppose. I’m just not accustomed to a woman – and a young,  beautiful one at that – being so open and free about these things with me. You seem very comfortable talking about it, and I’m squirming.”

I shrugged again. “I love sex, everything about it. Why be a prude, especially among friends?”

“I suppose – and yes, I love to perform oral on a woman, to be able to offer that kind of pleasure. Why did you say you hoped I did when you asked me that?”

I blinked coyly at him. “Ohhh, you never know…” He smiled, and I went on, “I asked because you’re such a sexy hunk of a man it would be discouraging to think you didn’t have one of the most basic things in your repertoire. I love having a man lick me, and I’ve never met a woman that didn’t.”

He smiled softly. “Maggie loved it too. She said she got some of her very best orgasms that way; I’d hate to think that I’d missed the chance to do that for her, and I did so love to see and hear her reaction.”

“And taste, huh?”

He grinned. “Yes, Rayne, and taste. Scent too, and the way she felt on my lips and tongue, everything is so very sensual. I absolutely love everything about it.”

“And guess what?”

“What?”

“You can still do that, even while you’re recovering. Luckily, you didn’t have any tongue surgery at the same time.”

He laughed. Seeing him smile and laugh was my reward, knowing that he still could do that and not sink into a pit of despair and depression. That became our pattern, talking about anything and everything as I did his bandage changes and other chores to keep him clean and infection-free. Nothing was off the table, and while I sensed his concern about his loss of sexual function on many occasions, he no longer seemed obsessed about it. The light at the end of the tunnel was still a long way off, but I felt like he was starting to see one and not think it was a train.

His doctor arranged with a twenty-four-hour clinic in town to have a nurse practitioner inspect his wound and take the staples out twelve days after his surgery. It took her a matter of minutes and caused no problems at all, so it would have been silly to have to make the five-hour round trip to Pueblo just for that! His urine was still lightly tinged pink with blood at that point, so she recommended leaving the catheter in a few more days and explained to me how he or I could easily remove it when things cleared up.

Before that day arrived, I asked him about needing some pads for the expected temporary incontinence. His reply? “Fuck, how would I know, I’ve never needed the damn things before.”

I was prepared for that and got on Amazon so he and I could figure out something. We browsed the options, but he was adamant that he didn’t want anything like a diaper so we went to the pads. We selected a well-known brand.

“Walt, you’ll need light ones for day use and thicker, more absorbent ones for overnight.”

“You think? I never thought about it.”

“Trust me, women know these things. Equip for the expected conditions.” I put a pack of each in the cart and moved on. “What brand of underwear do you prefer?”

“I have plenty of underwear.”

“You can’t wear the pads with your baggy boxers; you need briefs or boxer briefs, something like that to keep them in place.”

“Oh. Well, shit. I guess it’s a good thing you’re helping me.” I asked, and he told me he wore a 38 waist, which seemed to equate to a large or XL in most brands.

I’d found a package of three very tiny bikini briefs with a pouch in front and almost nothing in the back, in animal prints. I clicked on the leopard print pair to enlarge it. “How about these?”

He stared and made some kind of strangled sound. “What? Good lord! I can’t… I’ll need something like that?” I couldn’t keep a straight face and burst out laughing, and he knew he’d been had. “Oh, you’re a bad girl! You had me going there for a minute. Goddamn, imagine me in that.”

“Oh, I can – not with the pads of course, but after. I think you’d be very sexy.” He just shook his head – but I snuck a package in his size into the cart. We settled on Hanes boxer briefs and I ordered him three packs of three, in assorted colors, which he thought was funny; on his own, he’d have gone for tighty-whities, I’m sure.

Everything arrived a couple of days later, by which time all traces of blood had cleared from his urine. He asked if I’d mind helping him remove the catheter, a little squeamish about pulling something like that out of himself; of course, I agreed to help, although I was very worried about hurting him.

We cleaned everything up, removed and drained the bag, spread a towel to catch any random leakage, and we were good to go. The catheter tube splits to a Y-shape after it exits his body, with a longer tube going to the bag and a little short one branching off several inches below the tip of his penis. That one is capped off and runs separately inside the main drain tube to a small balloon which is inflated with a few milliliters of water, probably sterile saline, after it’s inserted into his bladder, and is what holds a Foley catheter in place so it doesn’t slip out.

It all sounded perfectly diabolical, but we were told that snipping the end of that little Y tube allows the water to drain, the balloon deflates, and then the cath tube can be slid out. With my latex gloves, a pair of bandage scissors, and very shaky hands I cradled Walt’s cock in my palm and cut the rubber tube. A small amount of water ran out, rather abruptly, I suppose because of the pressure in the little balloon.

I looked up at him. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. Why are your hands shaking?”

 “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. Just do it.” He was gripping the edge of the chair, his knuckles white.

So I did. I wrapped my hand around him and applied pressure back toward his body, careful not to squeeze his penis too hard as I gently pulled the tube with my other hand. It slid out surprisingly easily, followed by a tiny dribble of urine, and we were done!

“Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all! It felt weird as hell, but it didn’t hurt.” He flexed his hands, relaxing his white knuckles. “Whew, one more bridge crossed.”

“Yup! And yet here I am with your dick still in my hand.” We laughed as I released him and set about getting a pad and a pair of his new undies prepared.

“Yes, that’s the only thing about all this I’m going to miss, your gentle touch and our talks.”

“We don’t have to stop our talks, Walt – and you know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, or as long as you think you need to. We’re very much enjoying having you around, and Darwin and Hobo are inseparable.”

He nodded and made noises about needing to get back home, but I could tell he was in no hurry.

He was able to pass urine after the catheter removal without issue, so we dodged a potential problem there, and while he suffered urgency issues and some leakage, his incontinence was not nearly as bad as he’d feared. Mostly self-sufficient now, he could take care of his own bathroom needs and no longer required my help. He was discouraged about having to wear the pads, but at least now he’d come to grips with it and realized it was not a huge hurdle, and very likely temporary.

He still could not do any heavy work or other strenuous activity, and sitting upright was sometimes uncomfortable; riding his horse was still not on the menu. He meshed well into our daily routine, often doing a little light cleaning or loading the dishwasher, or even having dinner going when we got home. He was a passably good cook, despite his claims to the contrary, and was a master on the grill even though he disparaged our propane model.

Nothing outside of normal daily activities occurred for the next week or so, and when something did, it was because I fell into an old habit. Richie and I had woken up and made love, taking advantage of his ever-present morning wood and the fact that we’d also fucked (as opposed to making love) the night before. He loves me messy, slippery with cum and easy to slide into. When we were done, he hit the shower and I slipped into yesterday’s panties to run down and start a pot of coffee. Normally – in the past, before Walt came to stay - I’d do it nude, the way I slept, but not if I’d have cum running down my legs or dripping on the floor!

I remembered Walt after I got down there, but he normally didn’t get out and around this early with his time-consuming bathroom routine, so I just tried to hurry. I’d done the coffee grounds and filter and was pouring the water in when he walked into the kitchen.

I saw him from the corner of my eye at the same time he saw me. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh, Rayne, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were out here. I’ll give you a minute…”

“Walt, relax! I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but it’s ok. I thought I could sneak in and do this before you got out here.” He was cute, trying to look anywhere except at me. “Walt, it’s fine! I’m not ashamed of my body.” I started the coffee brewing.

He looked at me finally, his eyes roaming but pausing at my breasts, and smiled. “Nor should you be!”

I laughed. “Thank you. Always a gentleman, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Quid pro quo, right? I’ve seen you naked, after all.”

“I got the better end of that bargain!”

“Thank you again. My end of the deal wasn’t bad either, although I wish it was under better circumstances. Listen, I need to go hit the shower but help yourself to coffee when it’s done. Richard should be down soon.”

He nodded and crossed the kitchen. As he got closer to me, I saw his nostrils flare. “Yeah, I know; sorry. I probably reek of sex. We made love this morning.”

“Yes, you did – and last night. You sounded like you thoroughly enjoyed it.”

Ok, now I was blushing – and my nipples promptly began to harden as he looked at me. “Oh, wow, sorry you had to go through that. I didn’t realize…”

He laughed. “No, it’s ok! You two are young and healthy and in love, I’m happy for you; those are joyous sounds and I enjoyed it vicariously. And your scent is... delicious. If I wasn’t broken I’d be pointing at the ceiling just because of your sexy scent. Of course, that would have started as soon as I walked in here and saw you. ”

“You’re too kind.” I bit my lip, smiling at him, and then stepped close and kissed him on the cheek. “Soon, Walt. Maybe I’ll have to test that theory when the time comes.” To my immense surprise, he brought one hand up and cupped my breast, his thumb running over my hard nipple. A very natural and instinctive reaction I think, but when I said, “Mmmm…” he yanked his hand away and apologized profusely.

I stopped him. “Walt, it’s ok! It felt nice and I know you were just doing what seemed right, just a natural reaction you probably didn’t even think about. It's good we're that close, right?” He continued to apologize until I took his hand and lifted it to my breast, holding it there. “It’s fine, Walt. It’s just a boob and a small one at that. It feels nice, you wanted to touch, and it feels good to be touched. No harm, no foul, ok?”

He squeezed my breast, again letting his fingers stroke my nipple, and when he pulled his hand away this time I could sense his reluctance. “No, I shouldn’t. I’m ashamed of myself for betraying Richard’s trust.”

“But Walt, you’re not. Richie is fine with it or I wouldn’t have allowed it. If he wasn’t fine with it I would have covered up and run from the room when you came in, like a shy schoolgirl.”

“Richie would be ok with me looking at you, touching your breasts?”

“You know Seth?” He’d met Seth when we were moving in, and they’d crossed paths several times since as each came and went around us, the focal point of the friendship. He and Seth had hit it off from the first.

“Sure, I know Seth.”

I told him about Seth and how the three of us often engaged in sex together. I didn’t mention that both Richard and Seth are bi; that would be up to Richard to decide if he wanted that revealed. Walt listened, rapt, as I explained that we thoroughly enjoyed the open-mindedness and sharing aspects and that I loved having two men focusing on me. I also didn’t tell him that Richard had suggested that maybe I could help him with the sexual aspects of his recovery. That was a ‘just in case’ thing if he didn’t work it out with one of his lady friends first, so I kept it from him for now.

We’d been fairly relaxed around each other before but became even more so after that morning, not worrying about propriety or him seeing me partially or fully naked. He seemed to enjoy looking, and I enjoyed the fact that he enjoyed it. Richard was fine with it too, knowing I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. Our already close friendship became something more, barriers broken down by familiarity and love. He and Richard grew closer as well, but for me, he’d become something unique in my experience, someone who was a dear and close friend, a near-father figure, a confidant, fantasy fodder, and a potential lover, although we’d never come near to crossing that line… yet.

Once he was well on the road to recovery, all surgical reminders pretty much done and gone, he stayed with us for a little over one more month. I could tell he didn’t want to leave, but still felt like he was intruding on our lives – in fact, nothing could have been further from the truth. Other than moving to the upstairs bedroom and its smaller bed, which seemed to further ignite our love life due to the constant touching, things went on as normal – and he would occasionally kid us about one or another of our boisterous, vociferous, bed-squeaking sexcapades, but he always seemed happy for us and relieved that we had not altered our love life due to his presence.

We did impose on him to do one thing for us before he moved back home; we’d had a hot tub while living in Buena Vista but hadn’t after we moved down-valley to Salida, and we’d missed it. Now that we had what we felt would be our forever home, we bought one and arranged to have it installed. With us working, Walt met the electrician and showed him where we needed the 220V line run, and then the next day met the installers and oversaw the spa installation for us.

By the time I got home, it was mostly full and starting to heat. Walt stood watching it, the hose draped over the side as it filled. I came up behind him and slid my arm around his waist, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Any problems?”

He kissed me on top of my head. “No, well, they didn’t do a very good job cleaning up, getting all the packing material and all, so I rode their asses a bit about that. They took care of it. So, what do you think?”

“I think I can’t wait, but it will be tomorrow before it’s hot enough to use. It’s a lot of water.”

“It looks very inviting, but yes, still cold.”

“You going to join us? We tub naked, by the way – house rules.”

He laughed. “I would have expected nothing less, but no, I’d better not. I still occasionally leak a little.”

I didn’t think a few drops would matter in several hundred gallons of water – with purification and filter - but I let it go. “How’s that going, by the way? I don’t think I’ve asked in the last couple of weeks.”

“Better, actually, much better. I’ve woken up in the morning dry a couple times, and in the daytime, I’m doing better getting to the bathroom in time.”

“Well, fantastic! I knew you’d do great.”

“I’d feel even better if I woke up with morning wood, of course.”

I laughed. “Ah yes, morning glory; a weird but very valuable phenomenon. Give it time, Walt, it’s still very early.”

“I know, it’s just… ah, well.”

“What? You were going to say something.”

“It’s just damn weird, is all. Here I am around someone like you, so pretty and so sexy, and you always smell so great and parade around in your little panties, or those thin t-shirts with your cute little nipples sticking out. It’s arousing sweetheart, and I love it – I know I’m excited and aroused, and I’m sure you do too, but nothing. No reaction.”

“That’s normal.”

“It’s not normal!”

“Following surgery like you had, I mean. That’s normal.”

“I hate it.”

“I know. You want me to stop doing that stuff, wear a robe, coveralls or something? A parka, maybe?”

He laughed. “God no! It’s still immensely pleasurable, it just doesn’t generate the desired response.”

“I’m sorry. You still feel aroused, though? You still have the desire, your libido…?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t at first, but it’s coming back like gangbusters now. I think I have you to thank for that.”

I laughed. “Well, you’re welcome. Truth is that I’m a little bit of an exhibitionist at times.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.”

I laughed again. “I know, right? Anyway, I like you looking at me. It makes me aroused at the same time it’s arousing you.”

“But unlike me, you can still react to it.”

“Oh, and I do! With very wet enthusiasm.”

He smiled at me. “You’re a terrible tease.”

“I thought I was a very good tease.”

We both laughed, and then I kissed his cheek and went in to change out of my work clothes. I’d had one last chance to tease him, the following night when the hot tub was full and the temperature up to the set 103 degrees F and we went out to give it its maiden voyage. Richie and I were naked, of course, but I couldn’t convince Walt to join us, still concerned about leakage issues. I did talk him into stripping down to his underwear and sitting on a cushion on the rim where he could dangle his legs in the hot water.

I sat opposite him, leaning back, sometimes putting my arms up over the edge and raising myself so that my breasts were exposed. He looked at me, but I could tell he was self-conscious about that with Richard there – he checked Richie out too, the way guys do with each other, sneaky, furtive glances.

When I got too hot, as always, I’d sit up on the edge of the tub in the cold night air to cool off, my wet skin steaming. This time, because Walt was across from me, I let my legs drift apart. He’d seen me topless several times and in various panties and shorts by then, some tight or sheer enough that I’m sure he could make out my pussy, but this was the first time that I’d intentionally exposed myself to him. Poor Walt! He looked like he might hurt himself trying to look but still not look like he was looking!

Richard let him struggle for a minute or so before he laughed and said, “Walt, relax! If we didn’t expect you to look at her we wouldn’t be doing this. We’re pretty casual about nudity among friends – and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, my wife likes to tease.”

Walt smiled. “Thank god – I was about to dislocate my eyes, I think.” He looked me up and down openly now, and appreciatively. “But yes, I figured out the teasing a long time ago."

Richie said, "Great pussy, right?"

Walt smiled. "Fabulous... everything, really. Rayney, you're stunning."

I smiled at him. "Thank you." I then did something I never do, exceeding my own sluttiness tolerance; I reached down and spread myself open so that he could see my puffy inner lips and my hard clit. I don't think I'd have been so brave in better light, but the dim lights in and around the tub gave me courage.

"My god... You, Rayne, are a very naughty girl.”

I grinned at him. “Why thank you! I’m so glad you noticed.” I pulled my heels up onto the edge of the tub, legs far apart, and touched myself, lightly masturbating for them. I desperately wanted to be licked, fucked, or both, but we weren't at that stage in our relationship, and Walt wasn't yet physically capable of the latter.

“Noticed - fuck I should put you over my knee!”

“Promises, promises. No such luck though, not until you’ll get naked and get in the tub with us.”

“Is that supposed to be an incentive?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, it’s a hell of a good one. Soon, I hope, but not tonight. Is that all right?”

“Walt, of course! I’m not trying to pressure you.” I resumed a more ladylike pose - naked still, but not quite so brazen. Richie finally got too hot and slid up to sit on the edge alongside me. He was almost fully erect, and I saw Walt notice. I laughed. “Yes, as you can see, he likes it when I tease other guys. You should see his response if we’d followed through!”

Richard nodded. “Yes, I’m a kinky fucker, what can I say? She never fails to inspire me; I hope you’re not offended by that.”

Walt shook his head. “No, I think it’s wonderful that you two somehow found each other. You’re both young and beautiful, adventurous and obviously in love, and sharing your home and your lives has been not only an honor but one of the nicest experiences I’ve had in years. Educational too! Of course, without the goddamn cancer, it would have been better.”

I smiled at him, touched by his words. “Thank you. It’s been wonderful for us too, but without your cancer, it probably could never have happened. Hard to find a silver lining in cancer, but there’s one, at least.”

Walt moved back home a few days later, ultimately staying with us for just over eight weeks following his surgery. He was getting around great and feeling better, and his incontinence issues were beginning to truly improve to where it didn’t hamper his activities much. I was encouraged by how quickly his body seemed to be recovering.

He still had a long way to go, and I intended to help him as much as I could, or as much as he needed or wanted, knowing I’d have my husband’s support in whatever I did. We had plans to ride over and see his horses in the next few days, and he asked me if I could go with him to his urologist for his ninety-day checkup in a few weeks. I promised I would, although I think he just wanted me along for the ride for both of those things so we could continue our private talks.

That worked for me – I didn’t want to lose that intimacy either.