There was a nurse, my sister, and Ronni. I tried to squeeze out a simple "Hey" but I guess it came out a grunt more than anything else.All three were ...mmediately at my bedside. The nurse spoke first. "Welcome back, Mister Johnson. Just relax. The doctor will be here in a minute."Then my sister: "Hey, brother," she said. "You're getting better."Considering that I could still remember my previous inventory of assets, I didn't want to think of how bad things were, if this was "better".And finally. “Here. Try these,” Gram said. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out another pair of sunglasses. She’d always worn dark glasses, as far back as I could remember. Mom put the offered glasses on and turned to look at us.“They help. What’s different about these?” she asked.“I got polarizing lenses. I didn’t think they’d work, but they help. My new prescription glasses have them, too. They’re still bright.”“I can still see the colors a little. That’s what I hate about colored glasses.”“They’re. If you’re like me you have a “type” of guy who puts the steel in your fuck stick. Some guys like girlish twinks, while others are hot for older men with hair on their chests, not their heads. To each his own, right?My type is the tall, skinny dude. I don’t know why, but I like a guy with some altitude. And experience has taught me the taller and leaner he is, the bigger his dick tends to be. THAT is a definite plus.The jogging boy heading my way definitely fit all my parameters. He was about 26. Kneeling with her legs spread wide and grinning slyly at him, Béla crooked her finger at him to come closer.Frank walked to the edge of the bed and held Béla's face in his hands, kissing her tenderly, then combing his fingers back through her silky black hair. She concentrated on unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands through the hair on his stomach and chest while pressing her tits against the growing hardness in his pants as he stood in front of her.She smiled up at him as he responded.