After finishing my Saturday morning lawn care I was relaxing in my recliner by the open front window enjoying the light spring breeze and the smell of freshly cut grass. Suddenly I heard a yelp and looked out the window to see a man who had fallen onto the shoulder of the road and a car speeding away. I jumped up and ran out the front door toward the man. He was wearing a tee-shirt and gym shorts, and as I got closer I realized that I had seen him running by my house before. I live in an older neighborhood with no sidewalks, and it isn't uncommon to see people running, jogging or walking in the road.

“Are you alright?” I asked as I approached him. “What happened?” I could see that he was grasping his left ankle.

“Mostly feeling foolish,” he said, trying to right himself from his undignified position. “I saw the car coming and stepped off the pavement and twisted my ankle.”

“Nice of them to stop and check on you,” I said as I extended my hand to help him up. “Can you stand?”

As I helped him up he stood on his right foot and gently tried to take a step on his left but he winced and immediately started to fall again. I instinctively reached out to support him as he said “I guess not, at least not right now.”

“Let's get you inside and take a look at that,” I said. I put my right arm around his back as he placed his left around my shoulders and I helped him across the yard and up the 2 steps into my living room. He was about six feet tall, and at six feet and two inches myself, it was fairly easy to make the short distance with him leaning on me for support and using mostly his right foot, keeping the injured limb suspended. Once inside I helped him sit down on my couch and I knelt down to get a closer look at the ankle. It was starting to swell. “You should get that elevated, and I'll get some ice,” I told him. “Lie back and rest your leg on the arm of the couch and I'll be right back.”

I went to the kitchen to get an ice pack that I kept in the freezer. I had had my share of twisted ankles from stepping in soft spots or tripping over tree roots while mowing my yard, so I tried to be prepared for that type of first aid. I got back to the living room to find that he had taken my advice and was lying back with the left leg on the arm of the couch. I asked him if he could move his foot and he did as he winced from the pain. “It doesn't look like it's broken, but it's still swelling,” I told him as I gently wrapped the ice pack around his ankle. “Let's give it a few minutes and see if this helps.” As I finished wrapping his ankle I looked up and noticed that his right foot was still on the floor, leaving the leg of his shorts open enough for me to that he was wearing nothing under them. He had a nice uncut cock that was almost in full view and I thought was starting to stiffen a bit. Not wanting to embarrass him further, I quickly averted my eyes and looked at his face. He was clean-shaven with a short professional haircut that made me think of a banker or an accountant. His body was lean but not overly muscular. He appeared to be in his late 40's. He seemed to take care of himself but didn't appear to be the type who went to the gym every day. Almost, but not quite what you'd call stocky, he also had ample hair on his legs and arms, and I guessed that under the tee-shirt he at least had a nice patch of thick chest hair if not completely covered.

“By the way, my name is Wayne,” I told him.

“I'm Greg,” he replied. “Thanks for the rescue; I'm not usually such a clutz.”

“Don't worry about it,” I said, looking into his steel blue eyes. “It could happen to anyone. How does the ice feel?”

“Cold,” he replied, and we both chuckled. “It helps, thanks.”

“Can I get you anything for pain?” I asked. “I don't have anything strong, but I have aspirin or Ibuprofen.”

“Nothing for now, but if I could trouble you for a glass of water,” he said.

I went to the kitchen and got a glass of ice water. When I returned I handed him the glass and moved to the end of the couch to get another look – both at the ankle and (I couldn't resist) at his crotch. I lifted the ice pack and saw that although still swollen it didn't appear to be getting worse. After replacing the ice pack, I glanced up and noticed that he had closed his eyes. I also noticed that his cock was about half-way erect and more visible now. At that, I couldn't help myself and I said “It looks like your ankle isn't the only thing throbbing.”

Greg's eyes opened and he said, “What do you mean?” I nodded toward his gaping shorts and his growing erection that was now about to exceed the length of his shorts. “Oh, shit, I'm sorry!” he said as he tugged at his shorts trying to conceal his hardening dick, which only seemed to make it harder.

I smiled and said “It's OK, I've seen those before. Got one myself, you know.” He still seemed to be flustered, and tried to sit up, still tugging at his shorts, but the sudden movement caused him to remember his ankle and he lay back, drawing in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. His face flushed, maybe from the sudden pain he had caused himself or from embarrassment or both. After a few seconds the wave of pain seemed to dissipate and he said “I'm really not some flasher or pervert. I had a fight with my wife this morning and wanted to get out of the house as quick as I could and just threw this on without thinking about underwear or a jockstrap. I thought PMS was a bitch, but since she hit menopause it's been one fight after another and nothing in the bedroom, so I guess just feeling anyone touching me got me going. I'm really, really sorry.” He seemed to be mortified and was almost babbling, trying to defend himself for something that, in my opinion, needed no defense and still trying to conceal his erection that had lasted through the shocking pain from the ankle.

“Hey, relax, OK?” I said. “It's a natural reaction and nothing to worry about.” With that he calmed down a bit. “In fact, if you want I can try to take your mind off that ankle and relieve some other tension at the same time.” I patted his right thigh a couple of times and let my hand rest about half-way between his knee and hip. It took a couple of seconds for him to react, and I thought I had really fucked up as I saw a look of shock, almost horror, come across his face. We both seemed to be frozen for a few seconds except for his cock that was now fully erect at about seven inches and pulsating. The look on his face softened to confusion and then mild puzzlement as he seemed to be processing what I was suggesting. He stopped tugging at his shorts, apparently giving up on trying to conceal what was fully in view by now anyway. “You mean...,” he stammered, and I nodded. “I don't know, I've never had a man touch me like that before, and I couldn't return the favor.”

“It's OK,” I said, “no return of favor necessary. I'm not some psychotic movie character- no 'quid pro quo' expected. It just looks like you need a certain type of attention.”

I could tell he was battling with himself – his mind telling him he was straight and married and this shouldn't be happening, his body telling him it needed relief. My hand was still resting on his thigh and as he stared at it, he said “one thing's for sure. I'm not exactly able to run away.”

I took that as my cue and started slowly moving my hand up his leg toward his throbbing cock. I caressed the shaft and gently squeezed as he lay back, closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale followed by a low moan. I moved my hand up the shaft to the head of his dick and ran my finger around the ridge of the head, feeling it pulsate with every heartbeat and watching that first pearl of precum emerge. I moved my mouth close to his dick and let him feel my warm breath on the head while gently stroking the shaft. Being this close, I could smell the light perspiration from his morning run mingled with the fragrance of soap that told me he had showered beforehand.

As I pushed his shorts leg up and ran my hand inside to caress his balls, I started to kiss his inner thigh, letting his dick swing free – no, not swing, it was standing erect and throbbing – as he started to moan more loudly. “Oh, that feels incredible,” he whispered. I continued kissing his leg, letting my tongue swirl in circles getting ever closer to his ball sac, which I was still massaging with my right hand, as I grasped his cock with my left. When I closed in and started licking, then sucking on his balls, he breathing quickened and his moaning became a little louder. “Oh, yeah, that's nice,” he sighed. With my left forefinger I touched the tip of his dick and started swirling his precum around the head while I worked my tongue up the shaft, kissing and nibbling, and using my right hand to keep his balls from being left out.

Unable to resist any longer, I took the pulsing head of his dick into my mouth, licking off the precum and savoring the taste. As I sucked on his cock head, I felt his body tense as he let out a quick breath and uttered “Ooooh, yes.” At that I dove down, taking his full length into my mouth and feeling that warm wonderful cock head hit the back of my throat. I held that position for a few seconds, massaging the head with my tonsils and sucking on the shaft. Then I pulled back, keeping on the head in my mouth and dove down again. “Aaaahh!” he exclaimed as he thrust upward to meet my throat again. Still massaging his balls with my right hand, as I started bobbing up and down on his dick, I ran my left hand under his tee-shirt to find that I was right about his fur. I rubbed my hand around on his abdomen and chest as I continued sucking his dick and squeezing his balls with increasing pressure. I found his right nipple and started to tease it, feeling it tighten to my touch. He was now thrusting upward to meet my mouth as I sucked up and down on his dick. I could tell he was getting close to climax.

As I played with his balls, I let my right middle finger find the pucker of his anus at the same time I pinched his nipple with my other hand. That sent him over the edge, and with a strong convulsion, he started erupting into my eager mouth. I snorted and gulped as I took his first powerful splash of cum hit the back of my throat, then continued sucking as he spewed another shot, then another, and then oozing out the last few drizzles of his man juice. I kept his dick in my mouth as it softened while rubbing his chest and stomach with one hand and massaging his thigh with the other. Finally, I released him from my oral grip and we both took a minute or two to catch our breath.

“How's that ankle now?” I asked.

“What ankle?” he replied. We both laughed. “I think it's going to be OK. You may not be a doctor, but you're pretty good at first aid, and you have a hell of a bedside manner.”

I went to the bathroom and got a wet towel so he could clean up, and I also brought out an ace bandage, wrapped his ankle, and with him now able to put some weight on it, I helped him to the car and drove him home. The next Saturday I heard a knock on the door, and when I opened it, Greg was standing there. “All healed up, and I thought you might use this again some time,” he said with a smile. I looked down and saw in his hand the ace bandage that I had put on his ankle. I also saw the bulge running down the right leg of his shorts and the tip of his cock just peeking out. “I think I might,” I replied. “Come on in.”