This story is about Jeremy, a friend of Mike and Leia. Mike met Jeremy during his initial stay with his Aunt Leia, and Jeremy quickly became Mike's confidant and mentor. Back then, Jeremy also formed a relationship with Leia's housekeeper, Sarah. You can read more about this in the series 'Mike stays with Aunt Leia'.
As promised, Jeremy asked me to write this story for him. I first met Jeremy when I was 18 and thought he was old then! However, over the last few years, I swear he has not aged at all, even though he is in his late 70s.
From Jeremy:
Some things are inevitable in life; getting older is one of them; the aches and pains that go with it are the other. I consider myself to be extremely fit, but unfortunately, I recently took a fall, which led to a remarkably positive outcome. Sometimes, in our darkest moments, there is some light.
So, there I was in my late 70s, very fit for my age, and enjoying life. I am still employed by Leia; I will try not to spoil Mike's future stories, so I will leave it there. Needless to say, Mike and Leia remain very close friends of mine, enough to think of them as family.
The fall I took was horrible. I knew it was going to happen, but I could not catch myself. I could exaggerate and say I fell from a height, but unfortunately, I fell over a garden shovel that I had not put away. I was unlucky as the force of the fall went through my wrists at an awkward angle, breaking the left wrist and leaving me with hairline fractures in the right. As I live alone, this means that I would need around-the-clock help. Luckily, as I still work for Leia, I have very good health insurance, and Leia made sure I got everything else I needed.
One thing you realise as you get older is that nothing heals quickly, and for the first two weeks at home, I had a young carer stay with me called Dale. He was an absolute godsend, as I literally could not do anything for myself, and he was very good at helping me maintain a level of dignity. Dale was only employed as temporary help until a longer-term solution could be found, but I was so glad it was him to start with and not the young lady I am about to introduce you to.
When Dale told me they had found a solution, I was a little disappointed, but he reassured me that his replacement came with a brilliant reputation. When I heard that his replacement was female, I was a little worried about the whole dignity thing, but aside from bathing, I was now able to do most other things with the right hand. It was still healing, but as you can imagine, there are things a man wants to do alone, especially when going to the bathroom.
The left wrist was going to take around 6 weeks to heal, and the subsequent physio might take longer still. Dale again reassured me that not only was Clara (the carer) a great carer, but she was a qualified nurse. That meant she would be able to assist in the rehabilitation.
It was soon time for Dale to leave, and I wished him well. He thanked me for all the advice I had given him in our evening discussions, and he said he had learned a lot from me. It was kind of nice to hear that from a young person, as usually in our society, elders tend to be ignored.
Dale had spent a few hours in the morning with Clara to take her through my needs before introducing her to me.
Clara had walked into my living room, and my jaw had hit the floor. I was not sure what I should have been expecting, but here was a woman in her early 20s who was simply stunning. Her mousey blonde hair seemed to make her green eyes light up even more, if that were possible. I could make out through the clothes she was wearing that she was extremely fit and seemed to have fuller breasts, although they were strapped down by a bra. She dressed in a work like manner, but I knew the company made all their workers wear white medical coats when undertaking duties.
I am sure I did not give anything away, but my eyes must have lit up when I saw her. She also seemed to light up as I introduced myself to her.
"I thought you said he was in his 70s," she said, looking at Dale.
"I told you he was not your typical older man; he is extremely fit and looks after himself," said Dale.
"You're all going to make me blush," I responded.
Dale had then spent the next hour showing Clara around and getting her settled in one of the spare rooms. After he departed, Clara and I spent time getting to know each other and discussing routine. We seemed to hit it off straight away; she was bubbly, slightly flirty, but all in an innocent way. She obviously knew she would need to break down barriers as we were about to spend a lot of time together.
After dinner, Clara asked me if I wanted to take a shower. Part of my routine is to shower morning and night. She told me that she would take a shower and freshen up straight after, and then we could have a small drink together with supper.
I could do most of the getting ready for the shower part myself using my right hand, but I could not wash my entire body, as clearly my left arm was in a cast. It was the right side of my body that was hardest to wash.
Clara had told me that she was going to get changed into some sports stuff to help me, and she asked if it was alright for her to not wear the white coat as it always got wet. I was happy and agreed. It turned out that this was about to be a double-edged sword, depending on how you look at it.
I got myself ready, and Clara knocked on the door. She walked past me without even blinking an eye at my nakedness and began running the shower. I was genuinely fixated for a few seconds on my own dignity before my brain suddenly short-circuited to the sports outfit Clara had chosen. She wore one of those sports tops that covered her breasts but left her flat tummy visible, and she wore tight lycra bottoms that seemed to leave little to the imagination.
"In you get," she snapped me out of it.
She then complimented me on my physique: "Wish all my patients kept fit like you; do you work out?"
"No, but I have worked on the land most of my life, and it keeps me fit," I responded.
"Well, you are doing well," she said.
She told me to lift my arms and sponge me down, then my back, my chest, my stomach, and then my legs. She then washed my buttocks and under my legs before telling me to turn around. She then almost mechanically washed my heavy cock and balls. I still have 'lead' in the pencil, and there was a slight reaction, but this being a new encounter, my cock thankfully stayed full but did not get hard.
She then turned the water off and got one of the huge, fluffy white towels. She began drying me off in the same order she washed me. I could not help it; my mind seemed to hone straight onto the fact that my cock and balls were going to be touched again, and the inevitable began to happen, albeit slowly.
She again asked me to turn around, and my cock was still pointing down but was even fuller and thickening. She again began drying it mechanically, but right at the end, to ensure it was all completely dry, she moved my balls to one side to dry my upper thigh and then to the other side. She finished by rubbing the towel a couple of times down the length of my cock.
My cock was now semi-erect, and I was wondering whether I should say anything or stay quiet.
She asked me if I had pyjamas to put on, but I told her I sleep naked and just wear a gown before going to bed. She grabbed the gown and helped me put it on. As she did up the cord that was wrapped around the gown, my cock sprung up and appeared out between the material.
