Standard disclaimer. all fiction, any resemblance to anything, anyone, or any place is pure coincidence. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 18 or older.
----------------
I recently experienced one of those OMG Penthouse story moments (ya I know, that phrase dates me) during an unexpected extended visit with a relative.
My 1st cousin Kevin (Kev) and his wife Bethany (Beth) live in upstate New York in a small and very exclusive gated community right on Lake Ontario. Each plot is a full 30 wooded secluded acres with 5 acres having private access to the beach.
They are the very definition of a power couple. Wildly successful yet friendly, family oriented, and people of faith. We're not talking born-again Christian but rather people who have deeply seated beliefs yet don't prescribe to one single faith. As they put it, they are religious free-agents yet at the same time being very liberal in their politics and "other things."
Kev (56) is a very successful business advisor. He found a niche in working with businesses to increase their productivity. I don't claim to understand it, I just know he's making buckets of money and advises some of the largest corporations in the world.
Likewise Beth (45) is a successful patent attorney and corporate lawyer who has been able to separate herself from the firm and work remotely. She has a mind like a steel trap. Quick to analyze, weigh options, and make decisions. A type "A" with a confident domineering yet pleasant personality. Task oriented to an extreme sometimes to the point all else fades away. Clients rarely even know she's not at the firm main offices on Long Island when they meet with her. Consultations are all done via video conferencing. With all that said, Beth could also be surprisingly nieve.
Their adult children don't factor into this but they have 2 girls. Both are now married, one lives in LA and the other London. Sadly the eldest looks like her dad but the youngest is the spitting image of her knockout mother.
I'm Reginald or Reg, 62 now and my wife Brieanne or Anne, is 68. We're both very active and health conscious, so fit and healthy. For quite some time we've lived a sort of open marriage. While this doesn't mean free to do anything we want to, it meant the occasional dalliance is tolerated. We were also successful in life. Nothing anywhere near as successful as Kev and Beth but after selling a successful business we were able to retire in our mid 50s.
Kev and Beth knew of our occasional "dalliances" because we'd had a single booze filled conversation about it where, after their shock they especially Beth, were very curious as to how our relationship remained so solid after 40 years of marriage. We explained that most importantly was who we "played with" and keeping emotions in check was necessary as was exceptional self control. With that all said, I'd only exercised this once and Anne twice in 40 years. It was a rare event the most recent for both of us had been over 10 years ago.
So...
Not long ago while we were visiting, Kev and I had taken their jet skis out on the lake. Everything was great until, at a very high speed racing Kev, I managed to find a partially submerged log. Needless to say the result wasn't good. I smashed into it and the sudden stop both launched me over the front of the jet ski and sank the jet ski. Here's where I was both lucky and unlucky. Lucky in that my head went over the raised hand controls sparing me smashed teeth and a concussion, unlucky in that my left wrist was broken and both left and right thumbs thumb dislocated with torn ligaments and deep bruising on the front of my thighs.
The broken wrist was tolerable but if you've never had a dislocated thumb imagine searing pain every time they move even a little bit.
Treatment is generally a splint/brace with anti-inflammatory drugs and pain killers. This meant severely restricted movement. Try doing anything and not use your thumbs. Seems nearly everything we do includes a thumb in some way. My thumbs were mostly unusable but, thanks to drugs, relatively pain free unless I moved them or hit them on something. Unfortunately, I banged them on things constantly so my days was filled with ouchies and boo boos.
That evening we got back from the hospital we sat in the huge hot tub drinking wine with all three of them having great fun teasing and making fun of my situation.
Leave it to Kev to be inappropriate and say, "this is going to slow down that one handed alone time."
Beth blurted out a loud, "Kevin!"
Luckily, before I could reply, Anne jumped to my defense raising her hand wiggling her fingers and saying, "oh hardly, he's got this if he needs it but he hasn't needed to resort to a hand in 40 years..." then kissed me saying, "Have you honey?"
I beamed at Kev, "Nope, Mr. Happy gets all the attention he needs."
Over the next few days I learned to get dressed, undressed, at least when it came to sweats, gym shorts, slip-ons, and t-shirts are concerned. I had difficulty with tasks which took a firm grip or some manipulation.
I relied on Anne for quite a lot and Anne had had great fun with my limited use of my hands. Visiting the toilet was ok because the bathroom had a really fancy bidet which not only washed your butt but also dried it after. Quite refreshing in an odd way. Bathing wasn't much of a problem, I just held my hands up above the shower and Anne washed me down. Other than my hands throbbing after the fact, it was ok. My wrist was broken but didn't hurt at all. But, more than once she lathered me up and teased me. Once she delighted me with a shower blowjob and on other occasions she dried me off, put me on my back on the bed and had her way with me, in our way. Yes, even at our ages we are quite sexually active... it was awful.
The doctor had put me on oxycodone as a pain killer. It was quite effective but I was very aware of it's dependency issues and chose to limit myself to 1 per day at noon. By 1pm there wasn't any pain at all and I got along quite normally, except for the cast on my left wrist and hand and a plastic splint on my right hand.
A week after the accident our time with them was supposed to come to an end. My wrist was in a removeable cast now and usually felt ok but my hands were supposed to remain in splints for 4 weeks. Kev insisted I stay there and keep healing. We initially said no because of some obligations we had back home but they had very good arguments and was convincing.
We decided Anna could take care of those things requiring our presence and would return in 3 weeks.
Kev generally helped with the more personal things if I needed it. I thought I was doing quite well. Things began to take a turn the fifth day after Anne left.
He seemed distracted for a few hours and when we were sitting at the table eating supper Kev piped up and said, "I have to fly to Dubai on Friday. A client wants a face to face which can't be avoided."
"Ohhhh," I said pursing my lips and letting the sound fade away.
Beth noticed my raised eyebrows of concern and casually said as she took bites, "I'll take over, all will be well. It'll be no problem at all."
"But... " I started to say.
Beth looked at me over a fork full of filet, "No problem and no arguing. Ok?"
I knew better than to challenge Beth but I could tease. Just as casually I said. "Ok, ok, if you're up to it so I am. But be warned, after my massage I expect a happy ending."
Kev nearly spit.
