As the only child of a single mother who could never seem to make ends meet, Debbie only had two goals in life: to marry a man who would never leave her, and to get rich.
It's not that her mom ever had any trouble attracting men. She was a gorgeous pure blonde with an ample figure. It was getting them to stay that was the problem. Debbie heard countless men grunting and moaning in pleasure as they fucked her mom in apartments too tiny to hide what was going on in the master bedroom. But for whatever reason, none of them ever lasted for more than a few months.
Her love life aside, Debbie's mom was completely committed to making sure Debbie had all the opportunities she did not. They may have had to change apartments numerous times throughout her childhood, and more than one car was repossessed, but somehow there was always enough money to pay for dancing lessons, a pursuit that Debbie loved with a passion.
Debbie got good grades in high school, dated the quarterback of the football team, and was captain of the cheerleading team. She was even talented enough to win a spot on the University of Colorado cheer team, although unfortunately since the NCAA doesn't recognize cheerleading as a sport, there was no scholarship to win.
Debbie chose a sensible physical therapist program which would allow her to graduate in six years (three years undergrad, three years graduate) as a licensed physical therapist. The education was a little pricey but the starting salary for physical therapists was good and she could pay off her student loans over time.
The dating scene in college, however, was a lot more complicated than high school. Blond haired and blue eyed with a perfect dancer's bubble butt, Debbie had no trouble keeping her high school boyfriend's attention. It didn't hurt that her mother put her on birth control as soon as she got her period so she felt no risk in putting out for her boyfriend whenever he wanted sex.
The boys on the Colorado football team were different though. For starters, there were way more women than men on campus to begin with, so even average guys were a hot commodity. And since Colorado was a Division I program, you had football players that had been told since they were 12 that they were god's gift to humanity, meaning none of them felt like they had any obligation to limit themselves to one woman. And none of them did.
Debbie hooked up with a few athletes during her three years in Boulder, but no long-term relationship materialized. Not one guy asked her out on a traditional date the entire time she was there.
Debbie was excited to move thirty minutes down the road from Boulder to Denver for her graduate program, and even better, she auditioned for and won a spot on the Denver Mustangs cheerleading team. The pay wasn't great, but it did make her a star on all the dating apps.
A lot of the guys online were just as much jerks as the athletes in college. But after some effort she finally found a 6 foot 2 handsome man who was also new to the Denver area. Alex had been fat growing up, but he started working out in college and was now a fitness enthusiast. He had a body that was every bit as toned as hers. He was into sports and got along great with all the other cheerleader boyfriends. Within a year of dating he proposed and they were married a year after that.
Thanks to her cheerleading fame, Debbie had no trouble landing a job when she finished her program. She ended up getting hired by a private practice that catered to wealthy clients with a starting salary higher than she had ever dreamed.
And that is how Debbie met Greg Greenfeld.
Greg was still groggy from the anesthesia when Debbie entered his hospital room after surgery. It was important for knee replacement patients to start physical therapy right away to increase blood flow through the legs and to the feet. After introducing herself and explaining why she was there, Debbie started moving Greg's leg around testing the extent of his range of motion.
There wasn't a formal dress code for Debbie's physical therapy practice, but it wasn't lost on Debbie that all of her coworkers were attractive and dressed to show it. She was wearing white skinny scrub pants that uncouth surgeons had told her made "your ass looks amazing." To that she added a thin white long sleeve shirt and a white contour knit jacket to top it off. Greg thought she looked like an angel.
The two engaged in small talk while Debbie worked Greg's leg. In addition to owning his own real estate company, Greg had run marathons as a hobby until the cartilage in his right knee gave out. He hoped his knee would improve after he stopped running, but he couldn't find a new exercise routine, he gained weight, and his knee began to swell. He wanted to become active again but his doctor told him he would have to get knee surgery before he tried something even low impact like cycling.
Debbie explained that she would be visiting him every day while he was in the hospital to work on his knee and then after he was discharged he was to visit her at the practice's outpatient clinic once a week for four months.
Greg said that all sounded good to him and that although he hated hospitals and had originally planned to leave that day, if it meant seeing her again, he would gladly stay an extra day. Flattered, Debbie told him that was all right with her. He'd be safer here and she could help him get used to his cane tomorrow. When Debbie saw the look of horror on his face, she assured him the cane was only temporary and that he could become fully active again if he kept coming to see her. Maybe not marathons again, but cycling was definitely a realistic goal even for a man over 60. Greg was greatly relieved and thanked her for his confidence in her.
As Debbie was placing Greg's leg back on the hospital bed, she thought her hand had brushed against an impossibly long, warm, and thick presence. But she quickly dismissed the idea. There was no way a man's dick could stretch that close to his knee.
Debbie was not surprised to see Greg's smiling face when she came to check on him the next day. He was already in a much better mood and he had a visitor. A gorgeous sophisticated blonde woman in a flattering satin blue blouse and bootcut khakis. She was trim but had matronly hips and an ample chest that Debbie thought had to be fake.
"Debbie, this is my wife, Robin. Robin, this is my physical therapist Debbie. Debbie I am so glad you are here. Robin is insisting on helping me put my pants on but I know I can do it by myself," Greg said.
"I am sorry Mr. Greenfeld, but I am going to have to agree with your wife here. For the first couple weeks you should get help getting dressed," Debbie replied.
"Isn't there anything I can do? I don't want to be helpless," Greg pleaded.
"OK... well we do have some tricks of the trade... hold on," Debbie said as she left to get a reacher from the supply closet. "Now if you insist on being stubborn, here is what you can do," Debbie said as she sat down with Greg's pants at her feet. She then demonstrated how to put his pants on with the reacher stick so he wouldn't have to bend his leg. "Here you try it," Debbie encouraged.
