"I can't believe I stepped into the lake in the exact spot where that shard of glass was," Sean told Elijah as he walked toward the bedroom with his help.
Elijah giggled. "I can't believe you said, 'Mr. Frodo can play with my clot.' Must have really hurt though."
“Still does, now the anesthetic’s worn off.”
Propping a number of pillows against the headboard, Elijah helped him onto the bed, then settled Sean against them so he was in a sitting position. Next he took two more pillows, and lifting Sean's injured foot, slid them underneath, lowering the bandaged foot gently down onto them. "Are you comfortable, Seanie?" he asked.
"Don't fuss," Sean protested. "I'm not at death's door, you know. The doctor said I had to stay off my foot for a couple of days. Then I can go back to work."
Elijah plopped down beside Sean. "Then I have a couple of days to pamper you. Come on, Irish," he insisted, "let me take care of you for a change."
"Fine," Sean gave in, "but the foot has to heal on its own." He chuckled. "It's not like you can kiss my boo-boo and make it better."
"Maybe not," Elijah said, slipping his hand into Sean's lap, tugging down his zipper and reaching into his boxers to free his receptive cock, "but I bet there’s something else I can kiss and make better." He lowered his head and touched his lips to Sean's already straining flesh, making Sean go limp as Elijah's talented mouth sent waves of pleasure through his body.
After his skillfulness had produced the desired effect, Elijah looked exceptionally pleased with himself. Elijah had reason to gloat, Sean decided, realizing that not once during the exquisite blowjob had he given a thought to his foot.