I’m sure she was talking about something normal, like his love of riding horses. But, as it happened, he enjoyed my oral skills and my ass in frilly things. So, like any good boyfriend, I started leveraging blowjobs and lingerie for cooperation, visiting him in bed in my prettiest peignoirs. Suddenly—like a parishioner healed after the laying of hands—he was amenable to his daily physical therapy rotation.
Gotta say, if someone wanted to make that a home healthcare business model, it would catch on like wildfire. I, however, wasn’t interested in parading around in skimpy things for anyone but Kit Baker.
He hadn’t repeated his declaration of love in the month and a half since the surgery, but I saw it in everything he did for me. In every look, in every brush of a calloused hand over some expanse of my skin.
He was giving me that same look now, and I squeezed my hand around his thick cock, taking him down to the root, enjoying the way he fell apart under my ministrations. He kept himself loose, as directed, moaning through his orgasm. I happily swallowed what he had to give me.
“Please, at least let me touch you,” he said, begging.
I had been careful with him, not letting him get in on the action because I didn’t trust him not to do something stupid with his knee. But, seeing him sprawled out on the bed, his knee properly supported and braced, turned me on.
Don’t judge me, it’s an ortho thing.
I repositioned myself so he could take me in hand without jostling around too much, and I moved aside the see-through material of my robe to more fully reveal the ruby red silk underwear he’d purchased for me just last week.
He grabbed the lube from the bedside table and slicked me up and down, kissing me gently as he worked me over. Gone was the hesitation and in its place was a single-minded determination to wring every pleasure from my body.
I missed riding his cock, but as consolation prizes went, this was pretty damned good.
“One of these days I’m gonna be back to full strength,” he promised breathlessly, “and I cannot wait to show you how much you turn me on.”
Even as he said this, his soft, spent cock began to rise from the dead. Shooting it a look, I responded, “Darlin’, I can already see exactly how much I turn you on.”
He tightened his grip on the upstroke, and I arched, gasping.
“No, baby. I can’t wait to fuck you. I need inside you so bad.”
I’d already been on the edge, turned on as I was by making him come, and those words caused an eruption. Cum spattered all over his chest, which made him laugh and kiss me harder. So happy to be touched and loved by this man, I wiped him down and collapsed—carefully—on his chest.
When I finally regained muscle tone, I straightened my little outfit, ensuring the marabou fringe of my short robe grazed the bottoms of my ass cheeks exactly like he liked it. I then accidentally brushed up against him several times as I cleaned us up.
He, of course, couldn’t help but push his boundaries.
“So, if you were to come by and check on me this evening and so happened to catch me grilling up some steaks, how much trouble would I be in?”
I laughed, settling in next to him for a short nap. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Well,” I said, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’ve been following protocol—more or less—since your entire management staff mutinied and stopped sending you updates.”
He grumbled. “Yes.”
“And you’ve already started cooking breakfast, which hasn’t seemed to put you in too much pain.”
“Yeah, because eggs are so demanding,” he muttered.
“Hey.” I smacked his chest. “What I’m trying to say, if you would stop your fussing, is that I might miss your steaks, and some light grilling should be fine.”
He grinned wide enough to crinkle his eyes and light up his usually serious face. “Good. Now, can you tell my son and my ex-wife that?”
I laughed, imitating his pout. “Oh, poor baby. Did your shitty attitude cause everyone around you to join together in forcing you to accept the love, rest, and recovery you deserve?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Just for that, I’m going to make your steak well-done.”
I kissed him, then kissed him again. “No, you won’t.”
“No. I won’t.”
