I got home right after Richard. I’d called and told him I’d be gone, but not why or where. When I pulled up in Walt’s Jeep, he said, “Oh, that explains why your truck is here and you weren’t. Where’s Walt?”

I opened the door and the two dogs came flying out as one, doing a happy dance around Richie before running off toward the woods. I hugged my husband, thankful he was so healthy, then told him about Walt. He listened quietly, but I could see the concern in his eyes.

“But he’s going to be ok, right? I mean, if they caught it early enough it hadn’t spread…”

“Probably, yes, but that’s not what he’s so worried about, or even the surgery itself. I mean, think about it.”

He did for a moment, before shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s going to fuck him up. Damn, I hate that for him, it just sucks. Work your ass off most of your life and then when you can relax and enjoy yourself, something like this.”

“It does suck. He was very down about it; I’ve never seen anything get him down like that, you know?”

Richie smiled. “No, he’s about the least down guy I know, especially considering that he lost his wife and all. Nothing else bothers him… well, that’s not entirely true. I have seen him get pissed off a few times.”

“About what?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Inanimate things, a piece of equipment or something that doesn’t work, won’t cooperate.”

“We all do that. He did seem a little pissed off at a couple of points while we were talking.”

“Because of the unfairness of it?”

I sat on the front step and held my hand up to him, and he took it and sat beside me. “No, he never used that word. He’s old school, one of those people that doesn’t expect life to be fair. He knows it’s not.”

“True. Things he says, he feels like you make your way, your own fairness. So what was he pissed about, could you tell?”

“I think… it seemed like he was afraid, and the fact that he was afraid, that it’s something he can’t control, that what got to him. He was angry because of his fear.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t afraid of it spreading, or the surgery.”

“He wasn’t, I don’t think. He was afraid of not being a man anymore.”

Richie frowned. “That’s crazy!”

“Is it? Think about it; he’s looking at possibly being unable to get it up, no more sex, maybe unable to control his bladder. He made some crack about a limp dick and having to wear a diaper like a baby, said they warned him it could even make his cock smaller."

“Bullshit! I never heard of that… He told you all this though, huh?”

I nodded. “Not at first, but he gradually opened up. He said that’s what the doctor told him, anyway. If that was you, wouldn’t it beat the crap out of your sense of yourself, out of your masculinity?”

“Fuck… yeah, I’m sure it probably would. No guy wants to hear all that kind of shit.”

“No. It’s like a woman that has to have a mastectomy, I guess. It changes how you see yourself, your whole identity, what it means to be a woman or a man.”

“You think?”

“Wouldn’t it, Richie? I mean, it’s much less disfiguring and he doesn’t have to look at the results in the mirror every day like a woman would. For guys with this, it’s mostly all internal but it’s going to be on his mind… these are some of the things that make up our feminine or masculine persona, right?”

“Wearing a fucking catheter isn’t internal. Neither is a cock that won’t get hard. Fuck! It would mess with my head, I’m sure, and Walt’s a very masculine guy, so…”

I smiled and squeezed his hand. “So are you, babe, even if you do fuck other men or take it up the ass occasionally.”

He grinned. “Thanks, I think.” Now he laughed out loud. “Hey, speaking of masculine men, did I tell you he’s fucking two different women now?”

“Walt? No!” I’d known about Marie, a woman a few years younger than him, a divorcee that runs a café in Poncha Springs, but... “Was he bragging about it or something?”

“No, more like he couldn’t quite believe it. Humble brag, maybe.”

I laughed. “Yeah, that’s Walt; he doesn’t realize what a hunk he is.” I’d found it hilarious when he’d first hooked up with Marie, a bit over a year after his wife had died and shortly after we’d met. He’d seemed utterly bewildered, first when she’d started hitting on him when he was in eating at her place and maybe even more so later after they’d started having sex and she’d made him understand that it was all she wanted, a friend and a good fuck from time to time. She wasn’t looking for a serious relationship beyond the bedroom, and he was quite discombobulated by that.

He’d blushed crimson when I said, “Well, great, at least you’re getting your knob polished regularly, right?” and I’d laughed until tears ran down my cheeks. He’d joined in eventually. Now this same modest guy was seeing two women?

“Who’s the other one? Anyone we know?”

“I don’t think so. She works at the High Country Bank in Salida, a widow, I think he said. Oh, and get this – she hit on him first too!”

“You sexy guys probably have that problem, huh? Happens to you a lot, I’ll bet.”

Richie snorted. “Oh, yeah, I have to beat them off with a stick.”

I laughed. “Is she older, younger…?”

“About his age, I guess.”

“Lucky Walt, a lot of horny single women around here!”

He draped his arm over my shoulder and squeezed my boob. “And lucky for me there are some horny married ones too, huh?”

I put my hand on his crotch. “Yes, that is lucky for you. But no wonder he’s so upset by all this. I mean, if he wasn’t sexually active it would still be devastating, but with two hot, horny chicks…”

“Yeah, that’s a lot of pressure.”

“Well, yeah… shouldn’t be, but I’m sure he feels that way.” I shook my head. “I wonder if he’s told either of them and if they’ll be understanding and willing to help him, you know, with the changes.”

Richie shrugged. “Dunno. You’d hope so, at least one of them.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that would be good. I did tell him that we’d be happy to help him.”

“With the sexual stuff?”

“No... jeez! Around the house, chores and stuff while he recovers. He’s going to be in a lot of pain at first, and then can’t do much for several weeks, while he’s recovering, to avoid reinjuring himself. I told him whatever he needed, we’re there.”

“Oh, absolutely! He’s done so much for us, it’s the least we can do.”

“I knew you’d feel that way.”

He was quiet for a while, and we sat together enjoying the view and the fresh air. I realized that his mind had been churning quietly the whole time when he said, “You know, we could move him in here for a few weeks. We could move our stuff to one of the upstairs bedrooms temporarily; let him have ours so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs constantly.”

“You’re amazing, my love! I don’t know if he’d go along with that, but it’s a wonderful idea.”

“I thought so too; sometimes I dazzle myself with my brilliance.”

“I love that you’re so humble.”

“One of my many, many excellent traits, humility.” He smiled. “And our room has the master bathroom right there too since he’ll be dealing with all the pissing issues.”

“He’ll have that catheter, at least for a while. It’s what he said.”

“So he’ll still have to empty the bag and all, right? Keep things sterile and so on? It just strikes me that he may be bathroom intensive at first.”

“You’re right, that would be better. Easier for us too, since we won’t be running back and forth to his place… Maybe that’s how I should try to sell it to him, making it easier for us.”

Richard grinned. “And this is why we make such a good team.”

“So, brilliant teammate, would you like a blowjob?”

“Just for being brilliant?”

“Yes – and because I love giving blowjobs.”

“Have you ever known me to turn down an offer like that?”

So that’s what we did, and then, after he tried to drown me in cum and knowing I’d be dripping wet from sucking him, he returned the favor. Ultimately I won because I got a huge mouthful of cum and three orgasms to his one, but he seemed pretty happy with the outcome too. We were still hungry after that, so we had dinner, watched a little TV, and went to bed, where Richie held me while I cried for our friend, my worry and love for him surprising me by coming out like that.

While neither of us is deeply religious we each said a prayer for him; we figured even if it didn’t help, it couldn’t hurt. I didn’t sleep well that night, despite the wonderful orgasms Richie had provided.

***

I was on pins and needles the next day, waiting for a call. We have a landline at the house because cell service is so bad in the hills, and I kept my cell phone close when I went into town. It rang as I pulled into a parking place at work and I fumbled to answer it.

The caller said, “Is this Rayne?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good morning. I’m Eve Bartlett, your father’s surgical nurse, and he asked me to call you after the surgery was completed.”

He’d listed me as his daughter. I was touched but realized he’d probably done so to have them more readily contact me with information. “Is he ok? How did everything go?”

“He’s doing fine. We just finished up a short time ago and he’s currently in recovery, but we didn’t encounter any difficulties.”

“The cancer…?”

“The good news is that it appeared to be confined to his prostate and hadn’t spread. We removed the gland, and the doctor feels very good about the outcome and the prognosis. He was able to spare most of the surrounding nerves, which should help your father to recover more rapidly.”

“Oh, thank God! Will he be able to function fully, the incontinence and all…”

“There’s no way to be certain, only time will tell, but this is about the best possible outcome so we’re hopeful. He’ll have to wear a catheter for a while and will almost certainly suffer some incontinence after, but it shouldn’t be forever. It usually takes longer for any erectile dysfunction to improve.”

“Oh. Well, I'm so glad it went well, that’s great to hear, thank you. Will I be able to talk to him?”

She laughed softly. “He’s totally out of it now, still coming out from the anesthesia. I’d wait until this evening, maybe, but even then he’ll be on strong painkillers so he may be a bit loopy.”

Loopy. Clearly a technical medical term. “Do you know what room he’ll be in?”

“I don’t… is this your cell?” When I told her it was, she promised to text me his room number, and I thanked her and disconnected. I immediately called Richard.

“Hi, Hon’. I just heard from the hospital, everything went well and Walt is in recovery.”

“Oh, thank God!” I could hear the relief in his voice. “Did they get it all?”

“They feel like they did. Everything was confined to the gland itself, and they took it out. She said most of the nerves were ok, so that’s good too, I guess. Still biopsies, lab results, and stuff, but they’re optimistic.”

“Excellent! The old boy may live to ride again.”

I laughed. “You’re tacky, but I hope so.”

“Probably his confidence is going to need as much repair as anything. Rayney, on that note, do you remember when you were telling me yesterday about needing to help him, and I asked if you meant the sexual stuff?”

“I remember; I said no.”

“I got to thinking, and that might not be the worst thing you could do.”

“What? You’re joking, right?” He’d sounded deadly serious, but it was such an outlandish suggestion! I’d been attracted to Walt from the beginning and more so once we found out what an amazing man he was, and yes, there was a sexual component to it. He’s a very sexy man physically, and so smart and kind and with a great sense of humor, but I'd have never tried to act on it, and didn’t know if he felt the same toward me. I mean, he’d compliment me on my clothes, or my hair, or my butt occasionally, but I think he would be shocked at the idea of the two of us being sexually involved in any way.

Richie paused, then said, “No, I’m serious! I mean, c’mon… he likes you and he trusts you enough that he confided in you and told you how he felt about all this, and it’s a very personal thing. I know he thinks you’re cute as a bug’s ear, because he’s said so, and he probably fantasizes about you. Most men would, you know, and you’re sexy and hot, which should help... well, you know. With the obvious, him feeling arousal...”

“Thanks, you’re sweet, but Richard, he didn’t really open up to me, he just sort of hinted at his feelings. He couldn’t hide the anger and fear, the sadness, so that came through… wait – he thinks I’m cute as a bug’s ear? He never said that to me. And I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not anyway!”

“He said it to me, and from someone of his generation, it’s a compliment. He watches you sometimes and always tells me what a lucky man I am.”

“That just shows how wise he is, along with being sexy.” Richie laughed. “Still… it’s a crazy idea, and I think Walt would freak out if we suggested it. You’re incredibly sweet and thoughtful to think of it, though. Offering to let your wife help a friend, another man through sexual health issues would never cross the mind of most guys.”

“Yeah, probably stupid, but I’m glad you’re not offended by it. You took it in the spirit I intended like I hoped you would. I know you care for him, and he knows that you'd be understanding because you know what he's going through.”

“I do, and it’s who you are, Richie; you’re very empathetic… for a man. And we’ve shared with Seth, and Ernie, and sometimes even with Jason and his third leg, so we both know that we’re ok with me fucking other guys.” (Our friend Jason is the star of my ‘I Like Big Cocks’ story, so I won’t explain him here.)

He chuckled. “I love it when you talk dirty! But with Walt, I think it would be in how you approach it. Talking about it would freak him out, yeah, but if you had the chance for it to just sort of happen… organically.”

“We’re talking about months from now, Richard, if ever. Maybe a year…“

“There are a million things he can still do, even if he can’t get it up for a while. He needs to think about that and not become a monk.”

“A million? You’ve been holding out on me! I’ll want a full demonstration, mister – but anyway, I don’t think he’d be interested in a threesome. I have never had any hint of him being bi.”

“You never had any idea I was either.”

“True. Walt is very old-school though. I don’t think…”

“It’s ok, Rayney, I’m not thinking of being involved. Not at first, anyway, that would just need to be you and him, I think. You could help him figure it out, get his confidence back… work through any issues. Remind him that when you fall off the horse, you just have to get back on.”

I laughed. “Very clever, and a great metaphor for him too; he’d understand that. With any luck, one of his two lady friends will offer that service. That would be more natural for him if he’s determined enough to deal with it.”

“Just a thought. In case the issue comes up, I wanted you to know I was ok with it.”

“You’re amazing.”

He laughed. “I know.”

“There’s that humility again.”

“Indeed. See you in an hour or so, babe, and thanks for letting me know the good news on Walt.”

“Sure. Love you.” I felt like a weight had been lifted off me. I was still worried about Walt, how his recovery would go, and how he’d deal with the many challenges, but the fact that the surgery had gone as well as could be expected was great news.

I was astonished by my husband’s idea, but the more I thought about it the more I became intrigued. It appealed to me based on the concept of helping a friend heal and find his life again, and I could offer him that, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it also appealed to me sexually. I’ve often found older men very attractive, and Walt, with his rugged good looks, blue eyes, and powerful masculinity, not to mention his sweet, loving nature, certainly hit the "sexy older man" bull’s eye for me.

I found myself becoming mildly aroused at the idea of being with Walt sexually, but I paused to remind myself that he might have no interest. And, that even if he did and could get past the hurdles of our age difference and me being married to Richard, it would still be months, at least, before he was likely to be ready to venture back into the world of his sexuality. That was sad, but it was reality.

I met Richie in town for Mexican food and afterward we tried to call Walt from Richie’s car. With no cell service at the house and long-distance charges on our landline, we used the cell phones in town when we could.

A woman answered – a nurse, as it turned out – and she warned us again that he might be pretty out of it before giving him the phone. He sounded tired and somewhat confused, but he said he felt ok and was glad we called. He thanked us for calling and then asked if we were there to pick him up.

Richard smiled at his drug-addled confusion as I said, “No, Walt, we’re at home, but I’ll come and get you just as soon as the doctor says I can, ok?”

“I’m ready now.”

“I’ll bet you are, but you have to follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Who is this again?”

I laughed. “Wow, Walt, that must be good stuff they gave you. It’s me, Rayne, and Richard is here too.”

“Oh yeah, sure. I talked to my son and daughter, so I was confused. They were checking on me.”

“They were glad to hear you’re ok, I guess?”

“Yeah…”

He was very much not all there, so we let him go, promising we’d talk to him tomorrow and drove home. We let the dogs out for a while and Richard grabbed us a couple of beers so we could sit on the front porch and keep an eye on them.

Later, when we went to bed, I snuggled into the curve of Richard’s body and he held me while we talked. Walt inevitably came up. I told him that I’d thought about what he said, about me maybe helping Walt overcome any sexual dysfunction, and he asked how I felt about that.

“Well, first, it will probably never happen. We’re talking way down the road, and I think Walt would be horrified at the idea.”

Richard squeezed me. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you look damn good naked.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. He doesn’t think of me that way, sexually. He listed me as his daughter with the hospital, and I think that’s how he thinks of me. Probably thinks of you as a son.”

He was quiet for a moment before he said. “That’s pretty cool. I’d like that. I’ve seen him admire your body though, so if he does think of you that way, he’s a lot kinkier than we thought.”

“God, you’re sick!”

He laughed. “I was kidding, ok? But he’s male and he’s not an idiot, so you know he likes your ass. If you can get past his old-fashioned thinking you might be able to get to him.”

“If he wants any help, and if he can function, and if he is even willing to try, and if… It’s a lot of ifs, Richard.”

“I know, and it’s way out in the future. You know who’s horny now, though?”

“Me?”

He laughed. “Not who I was thinking of, but it bodes well for me.” He’d been cupping my breast, gently squeezing and toying softly with my very erect nipple. I wiggled my butt into him and could feel his growing hardness against me, and when he slid his hand from my boob down to my crotch, I obligingly parted my legs for him. I was wet, as he'd known I would be, and I felt his fingers part me and stroke my slippery bits as he nuzzled my neck. “Mmm, babe, you are horny, aren’t you?”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“Never.” He continued to touch me, gently stroking my clit to keep things simmering, exploring, almost entering me with his fingers but not quite, and just generally driving me crazy. If his goal was to keep me squirming around and rubbing my butt on his hard-on, he was probably quite happy with the result.

After a few minutes of that, I couldn’t take anymore so I reached behind and guided him into me. The first penetration of the firm, resilient head of his cock made me gasp, as it often does when he first enters me. Two more insistent thrusts and he was deep inside, his thick shaft stretching and filling me. I pushed myself back into his groin, moaning happily at the way he felt, huge and hard in my pussy, and he gently bit my neck as he began to fuck me.

One of the many things that I love about being taken from behind is the way it frees his hands up to touch and caress all of the parts of me that are so available in this position, and he knows that. He wrapped his hand over my throat for a moment, his fingers and thumb softly encircling my jaw before he moved lower. He squeezed and toyed with my breasts, stretching and tugging on my sensitive nipples, rolling, pinching, the combined pleasure/pain of which seemed to send shocks straight to my pussy.

He moved his hand down to my tummy, where he pressed me hard back against him as he worked his beautiful cock into me, and when he sensed that I was going to come he moved lower still, his fingers parting me and making hard, fast circles on my clit, probably touching himself where he slid in and out of me because I know he loves to do that. I came hard, thrusting myself back onto his rock-hard manhood as I did, crying out his name and begging for more.

He gave me more, all I asked for and then some, his thick cock filling me and hitting all the right places, and I came again and then again before he did, but when I felt his body tense up and movements begin to become erratic and less fluid, I knew he was there.

He slammed deep and held himself there, groaning out, “God… fuck!” between clenched teeth, and I felt the incredible pulse and strain of his cock spurting inside of me, something that often makes me climax and did again that night.

We lay together, exhausted, sweating, panting, his cock still pulsing softly deep inside of me. I dozed off, and I think he did too, but the sensation of his softened, shrunken cock slipping out of me sometime later woke me up. I moved slightly away and curled up, loving the after-sensation, as if he was still in me and the feel of his warm, sweet cum leaking slowly out. I touched myself, the feel of his warm, slippery cum on my sensitive used pussy as sensual as ever. He reached out and put his hand on my back, and with my hand still cupping my sex I fell back sound asleep, something the comfort of his touch in such moments often does.

The next day, we checked in with Walt again and were able to talk to him and feel like he was alert enough to understand. He was still on painkillers, but awake and in some pain despite the drugs. He sounded more depressed and sad than relieved that it was over and the cancer was out of him, but maybe that day would come. He didn’t know yet when he would be released, but I assured him that one or both of us would be there to get him.

I wished he was closer so that we could see him without an almost five-hour round-trip drive, but he was tired and soon begged off to get some rest. The following day, Thursday, he called me on my cell when I was at work in town. I was hoping that he’d called for me to go pick him up, but he said they weren’t releasing him until Friday because of how far he lived from the hospital. If he’d lived there in Pueblo they would have let him out on Thursday, but they were playing it safe because of the distance and remoteness of our location. Still, the fact that he could have gotten out that quickly was surprising and encouraging.

I reassured him that I’d be there to pick him up the next day, and he surprised me by asking if I’d get there early and come into his room so I could hear and speak to the doctor and get the release and wound care instructions from his nurses. Silly me, I’d never considered that he might need help caring for his wound and changing bandages, but of course he would! It wasn’t a problem for me, that kind of thing doesn’t bother me and I’m not squeamish, I’d just never thought about the task or the likelihood of it falling to me.

We spent an hour moving a lot of personal stuff from our bedroom and bath to the upstairs one, changing sheets, and making ours ready for Walt to use. It was fairly easy to accommodate him and wouldn’t be much trouble at all to use the upper bedroom for a week or two. We went to bed, made love, and fell asleep with our bodies still tingling with the afterglow.

So anyhow, rested and showered, I hit the road before seven a.m. the next day and was in Pueblo and at the hospital a little after nine. I left the dogs home this time, knowing I had to be inside for who knew how long. I made my way to his room, arriving just as a nurse was leaving. He didn’t look good, pale and tired-looking, but I tried not to let that show on my face as I crossed to his bed. I bent and kissed him gently on the lips, something we’d never done before but which felt right in the moment.

“Hi, Walt. Are they treating you ok this morning?”

“Hi, beautiful. They’re good here, but you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

I smiled. “You feeling ok?”

“I feel like I been rode hard and put up wet, but I’m doing ok. Who’d of figured that taking out such a small chunk would make you feel so lousy?”

“I think any invasive surgery like that is a major trauma for your body; it just takes time. They tired of you enough to boot you out today still?”

“Yeah, just waiting for the doc to come and check me so he can sign the release forms. I hope he hurries it up, I want out of here.”

I pulled a chair over and sat where I could hold his hand in mine. “I’ll bet you are! Everything still ok with your surgery and all?”

He shrugged. “They say everything is normal, considering.” He hesitated, then said, “I’ll have to wear this piss bag and catheter for a while.”

“Yes, but you knew that. Is it uncomfortable?”

“Only if I do something that makes the hose tug.”

“Ouch!”

He nodded. “A little. Worst thing was having to walk up and down the hall like they made me do with the fucker strapped to my leg.”

I squeezed his hand. “It’s a hospital, Walt. You leave your privacy and sense of dignity at the door, right?”

“Yeah… don’t have to like it.”

“You or anyone else. Everyone here is dealing with something, but the main thing is you’re not letting this shit kill you.”

“Yeah. Fuck…”

I waited, giving him time to go on, but he didn’t. “You’re going to be fine, Walt. Me and Richie love you, you know.”

He looked at me and then away, blinking rapidly as his eyes pooled with tears. I knew the surgery had left him vulnerable and emotional, and that he was embarrassed by that too. When he eventually got his emotions under control and could speak, he said, “I love you too, both of you. Thank God you’re here for me or I don’t know if I could deal with this.”

“You would, because you’re that kind of guy, but I’m glad we’re here too.”

He nodded. “Maybe. I’m supposed to walk some while I wait; want to come along?”

“Sure.” I helped him up and he told me how to move his catheter bag from the bed frame to his leg, obviously embarrassed because I had to do that. I wasn’t, and it didn’t bother me at all; it was just one of those inconvenient things we’d have to cope with for a while. I tried to be very matter-of-fact to put him at ease and quickly finished the job.

I untangled the tubes from his IV pole so he could roll it along, using it for support. They’d left the IV in as they sometimes do, for administering antibiotics and anything else they might find necessary, and there was a bag of something dripping steadily into his vein. “Has anyone told you yet that you rock that gown? I didn’t know anyone could make a hospital gown look sexy.”

He shook his head, but he smiled. “You’re full of shit, but thanks. You wanna make sure I’m tied back there?”

“If I can check out your ass, sure.”

He blushed, which made him look healthier. “Jesus…”

“What? You don’t check out mine? I know you would if roles were reversed.”

He chuckled. “Guilty, but you have a spectacular ass.”

His wasn’t bad either! I was mildly surprised, given his age and the fact that many older men suffer from disappearing ass syndrome. I gently pinched it as I secured the bottom tie. “Right back at ya, sexy.”

He just shook his head again and blushed even more deeply. We strolled around, dodging other identically clad patients doing the same, and when he tired after ten minutes or so made our way back to his room. His nurse came back shortly thereafter, like maybe she’d been watching for us, told us the doctor would be in shortly, and asked if I’d be helping to care for him.

I looked at Walt, who shrugged his shoulders, and replied that yes, I would.

She said, “All right, I’ll show you how to remove his bandage and clean the wound, and once the doctor has had a chance to look at it we’ll re-bandage him. Do you know how to empty the catheter bag?”

“No.” I'd read a lot about caring for someone post-prostatectomy in the last few days, looking up medical articles online, but still wanted first-hand experience before I undertook the responsibility

“It’s quite easy. You probably noticed that we already changed it from the larger overnight one to a leg bag for travel, but you do it like this…” I hadn’t thought about there being two styles, but I didn’t say so. She cautioned me that we should mostly leave the larger bag on for the first couple weeks and reminded us that he might not need one at all before too long.

She proceeded to show me, and I paid careful attention to the steps, and to what she said to clean with alcohol wipes, etcetera, when I had to change the bag back to the overnight one. She cleaned the tip of his penis, around the catheter with a small cloth and disinfectant soap, explaining that it was to help avoid a urinary tract infection. Apparently, this type of catheter, because of the way it stays in, can be subject to minor leakage, and cleanliness would be important.

I sort of figured Walt would do this himself once the incision was healed enough for him to bend and move without pain, but was fine with doing for him it in the interim. The liquid in the bag was tinged pink with blood, which she assured me was normal as healing took place. When we quit noticing that, the catheter could be removed.

She then had him lie back and raised his gown up to expose the incision. Walt squirmed and blushed a bit, but she soon pulled the sheet up to cover his cock, although not before I noticed the jarring presence of the catheter tube. I also noticed that, even in his condition and with the possibility that his penis was slightly reduced by the surgery, he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of!

I’m sure it was embarrassing enough for him to have nurses being so impersonal with him without me being there, but I know my presence made it worse, so I tried to remain casual and matter-of-fact, thinking about how I’d feel if our roles were reversed.

With him exposed from mid-tummy down to the top of his pubic bone, she gently peeled off the bandage. He had a row of staples from just below his navel down to the top of the pubic mound, and although it was closed and drawn together well, the edges of the incision looked bruised and raw, swollen around the staples. They’d shaved the area, his tummy and groin, and it looked pale farther out from the wound away from the bruised area.

She showed me how to gently clean it and pat the incision dry, then laid a sterile drape over it to wait for the doctor. When she’d left, he said, “That’s so damn humiliating. I’m sorry you had to be here for this.”

“Walt, please! First, hospitals specialize in humiliation. They see and deal with so much of this kind of thing that they sometimes forget that the rest of us don’t. Second, I’m very glad to be here to help you. With all you’ve done for us…”

“It’s so disgusting, pissing in a bag, and you having to help me with it…”

“Everyone pees, Walt. Even me.” He smiled. “This is temporary, remember? You’ll be back to pissing in the woods in no time.”

To change the subject, I asked, “Have you ever shaved that area before?”

He looked surprised but shook his head no. I laughed. “You’re going to love it growing back. First, it itches like crazy, then for a while, you’ll feel like you have a cactus in your pants. It would be a lot worse if they’d trimmed the beard and sideburns too.”

He grinned, almost his old, playful grin. “There’s something to look forward to – and you know this how, exactly?”

“Well, you know… I’ve heard that.” We both laughed, each knowing I was talking from personal experience. At the moment I was smooth, but it was not ever thus. “It’s almost easier if you just keep it shaved – you want me to help you with that too? ‘Cause, you know, I’d be happy to…”

He stared for a moment until he realized I was teasing him, then roared with laughter. I was so glad to hear it that I almost cried, and I realized that my continuing to treat him like the man and sexual being that he is, and not like an invalid, with worry and pity, would be important.

The doctor came soon after, was pleased with the appearance of the wound, and talked to us about the removal of the staples and catheter. He said about twelve days for the staples, no more than two weeks, and probably the catheter around that time frame too, although incontinence was likely to continue.

I won’t go into those boring details, but he and a PA talked to us about options for that. I hadn’t thought about it, but he explained that in removing the prostate gland, a section of the urethra is also removed because it passes through the gland, and it had thus needed to be pulled up and reattached to the bladder. That contributed to Walt’s likely incontinence and needed time to heal, but I also wondered if that contributed to the loss of penis length about which Walt had been needlessly worried. I didn’t ask; I’d seen him, and his penis was not short.

With a small bag of tape, bandages, and other medical supplies and Walt’s small overnight bag, they got him in a wheelchair (because they have to, he didn’t need it) and sent him down while I went out to pull the car around. He sighed with relief and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, and I headed for home.