"Everything OK up there?" Richard's wife asked him when he got to the bottom of the stairs.
"Yeah. Sounds like Karyn's helping him with some exercises to get his strength back."
"Oh good, that's so nice of her to help out like that." The two of them made their way to the living room and had a seat on the couch. Richard heaved a sigh of relief, which caused his flat chest to strain against the hot pink fabric covering his nipples.
"We're so lucky, Linda," Richard said. "Our boy's going to come back even stronger and healthier than ever."
"I know, Richard," Linda said. The leather of her boots squeaked as she crossed her legs. "And he had such spectacular care in the hospital. We'll just have to send a thank-you card to the staff."
"Oh, that reminds me, I totally meant to ask Dr. Mitchell where he got his shoes. Those red strappy things were to die for."
"Don't you think you have enough shoes, dear?"
Richard chuckled as he thought of the walk-in closet upstairs that was packed with his shoes and bikini tops. He was about to say something when a loud, rhythmic thumping came from upstairs, along with a chorus of moans.
"You think they need a hand?" Richard asked.
"No..." Linda replied hesitantly. "Dr. Mitchell recommended one-on-one sessions for the therapy. Too much stimulation could actually set him back."
"Oh," Richard said, sounding a bit disappointed. "Well, I'm going to get a beer, you want anything?" Linda shook her head, and Richard stood and walked to the kitchen, his D-cup breasts bouncing the whole way.
