Broken Hands

"Ooohhh, damn, I didn't even think about that. Can I help you set it all up?" She asked, feeling a little silly for not having thought of this sooner. It wasn't always easy to set up a brand new gaming system on a complicated TV with all the HDMI cables and plug locating.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it...I wasn't able to get to everything," he said.

"Yeah, no, totally. That makes sense," she hopped up from the couch and walked over to the large, flat screen TV that was set in the middle of a long bookcase that ran the length of the family room wall. It was an impressive, single piece that had been specially made for the home. The plugs were behind the TV and wedged down below some shelving where the power strip was located.

She snagged the necessary cords and bent herself over to figure out the appropriate hookups. The entire time she was leaning over working, Dalton was gifted with a mind-the-gap rump that was completely demolishing his teenage sex drive brain. She would rock from one leg to the next as she finished the instillation, and he was immediately reticent of the fact that his sweats were starting to tent.

Fuck. He thought. He looked away and tried to think of un-sexual things, even as he awkwardly did his best to hide his cock below his waist band. He just needed to think of something else. . .

. . .Like Mrs. Holloway's perfectly rounded ass. FUCK. This was hopeless, he knew. She was a piece of gorgeous art.

She finally, mercifully finished and he turned on the TV, hoping the input and video game would distract from his somewhat obvious boner.

Adrienne didn't notice though. He was wearing dark sweats that hid it well.

After the Switch had beamed to life, he asked her if she wanted to play some Mario Kart. She looked at her phone to check the time and then checked the baby monitor. London was lost in dreamland. She didn't see any harm in it.

As she sat down she handed him a controller and they began to play.

It took about five minutes for them to both realize that it wasn't going to work. Dalton's right arm was too fucked up. He couldn't use any of the most important buttons.

They cracked up as he continuously went crashing into walls or flying off of sparkly bridges.

Yoshi looked drunk, or, at the very least, like he was driving one-handed.

Another red turtle shell had collided into Dalton's reality and it sort of put a damper on the rest of the evening.

Adrienne felt even more terrible.

"Well...you'll be able to play it when your casts come off!" She tried to comfort him.

"Yeah..." he said, and you could see the sadness setting in.

"I'm so sorry, Dalton," she said, sounding like she was also experiencing his pain. She had always been an empath.

"It's okay...I think I'm just gonna turn in," he said, and she totally understood.

"Of course...well, hang in there. And text me whenever you need anything, okay?" She said, reaching out to touch his knee lightly again. It felt electric every time. She was so fucking hot.

"Yeah," he promised. "Thanks for everything tonight. You're awesome, for real," he said, making sure to show her how much he appreciated everything, even through his mood had clearly taken a turn.

"Of course. I'm gonna be here for you all summer, Dalton. I owe you that," she said decisively.

"Thanks Adrienne," he said to her, a little glumly.

She packed up her stuff and was out the door before 11:00.

"Welp...fuck everything I guess," he said to the empty room, as he clicked the internet on the TV over to one of his favorite porn sites to have a jerk.

He put on one of his favorites. An amateur blond actress that didn't look that far off in age from Adrienne was riding reverse cowgirl on her boyfriend, who was filming it all POV style. Dalton always loved this kind of amateur porn, but he especially liked it as his dick and brain were currently placing Mrs. Holloway in every single deviant scene he could find.

He was very hard as he watched.

But here is where things truly went south.

Dalton's jack-off hand was out of commission and his left hand could barely grasp a Pop-Tart or Nintendo controller. There wasn't much hope for his seven inch cock, which was frustratingly hard.

He tried his best to rub his bulging dick with his movable fingers and half of his palm, but the best he'd probably be able to do is edge himself all night. There was no way he was going to cum like this.

Dalton started laughing out loud at the comedy of errors he now seemed to find himself in. It felt like an early Tom Hanks' film. Some truly Murphy's Law-esque bullshit.

This was now terrible for a much more pressing reason.

He hadn't jacked himself off in two days now, which, in an overly horny 18-year-old's world, is basically equivalent to a dormant volcano watching volcano porn with a corked top. It was blue balls without the blue balls, especially thanks to all the mini quakes his cock had been having around Mrs. Holloway's very bouncy body.

He decided he was done dealing with this shitty day, and after slowly brushing his teeth and getting ready, he went to bed beneath the sadness of his tented bedsheet.

Across the property line in her own upstairs room, Adrienne smoked a joint, crawled into bed on her stomach, took out her vibrator and brought herself to a couple of much-needed orgasms. She was hornier than usual, but she figured it was probably just from the exhaustion of her day and her own lack of recent fun. But she had to admit, she felt very sexy with all the staring she caught her red-blooded, 18-year-old neighbor giving her when he thought she wasn't looking.

He was more obvious than he meant to be, and it felt nice to be reminded of her allure.

She was determined to turn this summer around for him.

That next day Dalton woke up with morning wood that would've impressed even the most accomplished lumberjacks.

He grabbed his phone and began to think about how he was going to solve this. Maybe there was a girl from his friend group that had he could convince to come over for some fun?

As he scrolled through his contacts he realized his options were slim. Dalton was very popular but he was also a nice guy. He didn't keep a lot of fuck buddies on standby. He'd been off-limits his last two years due to his recently terminated relationship, and the few ladies who probably would've considered having some summertime fun with him probably weren't going to be interested in the super one-sided sex he'd currently be able to offer. Dalton was handsome and well built thanks to his varsity sports, but arms and hands and flexibility are fairly underrated qualities when looking for some no-strings-attached boning. And he had more than just strings. He had bulky casts and a body that he was having trouble getting thoroughly cleaned due to his failed shower gymnastics.

Who didn't want a funky smelling 'Teenager-de-Milo' for their July fling? He laughed at himself.

Dalton sent off a few hopeless texts anyway as he got up to start his day, but all of those hopes had fizzled out by the time he'd made it to the kitchen counter to chow down on a microwavable breakfast burrito.

He also checked his emails where he had a daily thread going with his parents about their trip. They were having a great time and he wasn't going to smudge that for them. He messaged them back to let them now that he was just fine, that he missed them, and that they had nothing to worry about.

He could explain everything when they got back. Whatever.

"Fuck this," he mumbled as he felt that familiar achy pain coming back.

He gobbled down the frozen egg, sausage, and pepper, and cheese, and yawned with a big stretch of his legs.

After a mostly boring, slow-moving morning, Dalton picked up his phone and scrolled thru to Adrienne's number. He paused for a second and then decided he had no other options. He texted her.

"Could you help with a late dinner again tonight?" He asked, realizing that she seemed to the one bright spot in all of this.

"Of course, D!" She texted back with a smiling emoji. "I'll be over as soon as London goes down again!"

From there, Dalton mostly stuck to the couch, resigned to his fate.

The day passed by lazily, and before long, it was evening. Dalton had taken another irritatingly messy shower and thrown on his last pair of sweats and t-shirt. He was going to have to figure out his laundry situation soon. That was another task he wasn't looking forward to solving.

When Adrienne arrived later that night, it was about 7:40. Dalton answered the door and his hot neighbor was standing there in another tight pair of burgundy Victoria's Secret sweats and t-shirt, with a loose sweatshirt unzipped. She wasn't wearing a bra, Dalton noticed. Her hair was up in a lazy half-tie and she had her bag of necessities slung over one arm.

"Hey, kiddo!" She said, in her ever-engaging manner. "How you doin'?"

"Hey there," he said, as she walked past him and into the house. "I'm hanging in there."

They headed into the kitchen and she began to make another tasty meal for two, as she talked about her day. Dalton appreciated that she didn't talk down to him or treat him like a kid. She was like a cool babysitter. Try as he might, Adrienne could tell that there was something off with the usually good-spirited Dalton. She poked and prodded throughout dinner. She opened up another killer bottle of red wine and they got slightly tipsy as the night went along.

"Hey...are you sure everything is okay?" She said finally after one awkward moment of silence between them.

"Ehh, honestly...I'm having a really tough time," Dalton finally admitted, feeling like he could cry from the sheer exertion of it all.

"Oh honey...tell me why. I'm sure I can help in some way," she assured him.

She walked over to the sink with their empty plates and came back to the counter where they were both polishing off the last of the Syrah.

"Well..." Dalton sighed. "Where do I begin?"

He took the new few minutes to talk about how much everything hurt. He talked about the fact that he was having an impossible time in the shower trying to wash everything, especially his hair. He talked about the various chores, including laundry, that he was having trouble doing. Especially considering he could really only manage to throw on sweats and t-shirts. Anything else was just too difficult.

"Well fuck," Adrienne said, as he finished, with a defeated crescendo.

"Yeah, fuckin' fuck," he agreed, flashing a miserable grin. He hadn't mentioned the other truly terrible thing, which was of course his almost permanent aching boner from each new day of not being able to masturbate.

"Okay...look, we can figure this out. Wanna open another bottle and go sit on the couch where we can set your arms up?" She asked, as she scooted closer to him, looking so distressed for him.

Dalton got nervous whenever she got this close. He could smell the vanilla lotion she wore and a hint of her body wash. She was insanely gorgeous and her soft skin was impossible not to admire.

"Umm, yeah, that sounds good," he agreed.

Mrs. Holloway went to snag another bottle of high-alcohol red and when she had grabbed their empty glasses, she led them over to the big, L-shaped family room couch. Dalton clicked on the Dodgers/Padres game for some background noise.

"Mmm, good choice," she beamed at the TV with a nostalgic gaze.

"Oh, are you a fan?" Dalton asked.

"Yeah...I grew up on Scully's voice. My Dad would take me to games on school nights when I finished my homework early," she said warmly, with a twinkle in her eye .

"Ah, that's awesome. Yeah we had season tickets before the pandemic. My parents plan on buying some for next season again...so I'll try to go to every game I can. I've missed it," he said.

She propped him in the middle seat and placed some of the throw pillows under his arms so he could get comfortable.

Then she sat right next to him and poured their two glasses anew.

"Here, I'll rest your glass on my knee so you can just tell me when you need it and don't have to lean forward," she said thoughtfully, as they settled in.

"Thanks Adrienne," he said kindly. It felt good to be so close to her.

"You got it, kiddo," she beamed back at him. "Okay...so, clearly your life is a steaming pile of shit...let's make it better, yeah?"

Dalton laughed, "Ha...okay. That's a little harsh to hear buuuuut, you're not wrong! So...whatcha got in mind?" He was wondering what she was going to do to cheer him up, knowing they couldn't play the Switch she'd already bought him.

"Okay, first, I think you deserve a little chill," she took a weed vape from her sweatshirt pocket and wiggled it in the air. Dalton's expression brightened.

"Dalton...are you a well-traveled 18-year-old?" She queried, with a little deviousness in her voice. She felt kind of young again herself, offering weed to a guy late at night on his couch. It was a fleeting but curious thought that zipped around her brain.

He immediately recognized the pen. He even recognized the brand. Brooster would literally take his to school when they had standardized testing days, and offer some fuzzy respite to his friends during lunch period. Thank god those days were gone, he thought.

"Yes, that is something I know QUITE well," he admitted, laughing again. She really was the coolest fucking lady.

"Wanna get stoned?" She said, in a newly conspiratorial voice.

"Yes. Fucking yes I do."

She laughed and allowed him to lead off, and they were quickly on their way to Maryjane Lane.

Adrienne grabbed the remote after the score of the game had ballooned. She pulled up the Hulu app and got an episode of Rick and Morty going.

"You're a Rick and Morty fan!?" Dalton said giddily, buzzing off the Sativa and enjoying the feel of Adrienne's knees pressed into his leg. She was sitting almost sideways to him, doing her best to give him her happy energy and pull him out of his funk.

"Yeah dude...I'm not THAT fucking old!" She joked.

They began to talk about all sorts of topics, occasionally laughing their asses off at the adult cartoon riffing on screen.

"Okay, but back to the topic at hand," Adrienne said, suddenly straightening her posture and turning completely sideways to Dalton. She was resting her hands on the pillow next to his cast. "You haven't been able to take a full shower in like...four days??" She asked insistently. She felt sorry for this predicament.

"Almost, yeah," Dalton admitted. They were both very stoned and loopy, but Mrs. Holloway was determined to navigate this tricky suggestion she was about to make.

"Okay, so look...I was a nurse once upon a time. I've basically got experience helping people in exactly your situation..." she was looking intently at Dalton's curious expression.

Dalton's heartbeat had quickened. It was the weed and the higher-alcohol red and the way her breasts pressed out of her sweatshirt.

"Sooo, hear me out. I know this might sound weird, but if you wanted I could help you take a shower," she said, even as she took another hit off her pen. Dalton's eyebrows went up and he felt his cock pulse in his sweats.

She offered him the pen between her fingers and he took another hit.

"Uhh, I mean...it is a little weird...but I think I'm just embarrassed that I have to ask for this kind of help, ya know?" Dalton was stoned and stumbling a little over his words while trying to keep his cool around Adrienne.

"Well I totally get that, but it's not weird for me at all, so if you want help, I can totally help." She said again, refilling their wine glasses.

"Ummm, yeah...okay." Dalton agreed. Of course he wanted her to do this, but he was nervous about hiding his excitement from the whole thing. How would he not get hard with her washing his body?

"Well...let's get it done then!" She said, as she hopped up from the couch.

"Oh...right now?" Dalton was surprised. He just figured she had meant some other time.

"Dude, don't you feel gross? Of course now." She said it so simply. So friendly. She was helpful and hot, and Dalton was nervous.

"Okay, yeah," he got up and led her upstairs to his parent's master bathroom shower, which was bigger. He'd been showering in here for the bench seat and extra space.

"Oh, yeah, this is great," she said, as she took her sweatshirt off so she was only wearing her tank-top.

She looked over at Dalton as she pulled her hair into a tighter pony.

"Dalton...the awkward part is that you have get naked now," she said, with a teasing smile towards him.

He was standing there, breathing heavier as he watched her peel her sweats off so she was only wearing her booty short underwear. They were yellow and showed off her sexy ass and brilliant pussy outline. Dalton was already starting to feel a stir in his cock.

"Right," he melted. He started the arduous process of trying to disrobe his shirt first.

"Here, just let me help you. Enough of the tough guy act," she reasoned, as she adjusted the shower nobs to achieve the appropriate heat.

She walked over to him and helped him gingerly pull the large shirt off his body. Her breath caught a little as she noticed that he was more muscular than she expected. Abs and pecs and swagger, oh my. She shouldn't have been looking, but she was.

"Shorts too," she instructed him dutifully, and she helped him pull his soccer shorts off which freed his half-hard, seven inch cock, as it bounced out proudly.

She stood up as he stepped out of his shorts but even Dalton had noticed her eyes dipping to drink in the gorgeous man pipe that had just been revealed.

Holy shit, she thought in amusement. He was, QUITE big.

"Where are the arm bags?" She asked, remaining appropriately professional. She didn't need to be caught ogling his cock.

Dalton nodded over towards the vanity drawers and she quickly hopped over to get his protectors.

She unwrapped each and quickly helped him get each of his arms cinched into the plastic. He couldn't stop staring at her sexy body, on display in front of him, wearing only the tank and the underwear. She didn't have a bra on so her cleavage was set on marvelous display.

She stepped into the shower first and beckoned him in after her. Dalton stepped naked into the shower, standing eight inches taller than his bombshell neighbor. Then she closed the swinging glass door behind them and Dalton was suddenly soothed by the hot spray that coated them both. There was a thick fog of steam filling up the bathroom. Dalton realized he hadn't turned on the exhaust fan. The bathroom had only one light working over the sink. The main light hadn't been flicked on. The hot, gushing water felt incredible.

"Look," she said smiling at him, "I know this is awkward...so how about instead of saying anything, you just let me wash you and take care of you, okay?" She said to him, wanting only to pay him back. She didn't want him to feel weird about this. She had done this many times before in a work environment. This wouldn't be any different, she figured.

"Okay," he agreed kindly. Why the fuck not? He thought. He was stoned. And feeling way too good to care.

She pulled him into the water so they were both completely coated in it's hot spray. She smiled at him as they both were clearly feeling the effects of the weed and the water.

"Ughh...that feels really good right now," she said, unexpectedly excited.

"Yeah...fuck. It does," Dalton agreed. He still had his eyes closed. He couldn't believe he was in his parents darkened shower, with his hot neighbor wearing nothing but a loose tank and her panties.

She grabbed the nearby shampoo which he'd clearly been using and squirted a huge glob out onto her hands. She turned him towards the water so it was splashing against his chest, and slowly had him soak his hair, and when it was fully wet, she stepped close behind him, and rubbed her shampoo covered hands into his greasy locks.