Brother’s Dilemma: Chapter 12

**Brother’s Dilemma: Chapter 12**
*By: SoleMann*

Wham! My eyes shot wide open as my bed shook violently, causing immense pain in my freshly stitched penis. I looked over to see Lexi’s standing by my bed near my shoulder, pushing up and down on it with her bare foot.

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!” She said cheerfully while still shaking the bed with her cruel bare foot.

“On my God! You’re killing me!” I cried out as one hand reached for my groin, and the other her foot in an attempt to stop her from shaking my bed.

“Oh crap, sorry bro. I guess I wasn’t thinking,” she said as she stopped her shaking, but left her bare foot on my bed. “I didn’t realize that you’d be that sore down there.”

“Please don’t tell mom,” she added with a concerned look on her face. “I promised her before she left that I’d take good care of you, and make you breakfast. She’d kill me if she found out.”

“I’m okay now that you stopped shaking the bed, and don’t worry I won’t say anything to mom.” I said reassuringly. “Now where’s those eggs and bakey.”

“Well…” she said, now smiling, “I know I said eggs and bakey, but the day after surgery you might want to stick with something more gentle on your stomach like just the eggs.”

“Good thinking, just eggs it is,” I replied.

“Okay, but before I go do that, mom said once you got up that I should see if you needed any help getting to the bathroom.”

It felt a little awkward having my little sister asking me about going to the bathroom. While I was mulling the idea over in my head, Lexi spoke up.

“You know, you were a bit shaky when we brought you in last night, and the last thing you need is to stumble or strain yourself, and end up popping a stitch.”

She had a good point. I wasn’t feeling up to par. Between just having surgery and not getting much sleep last night, it might be best if she helped, so I reluctantly agreed.

“Okay” she said, “but first things first. You need to let go of my foot so I can put it back on the floor. Not that I mind, since you’ve been massaging my sole with your thumb.”

Holy crap, I’d not only been holding her foot this whole time, but subconsciously massaging it as well. I felt my face go red as I let go of her soft little bare foot and she casually placed it back on the floor.

“You know, that did feel kind of nice. Maybe later this afternoon when we’re hanging out watching TV you can continue massaging them for me as kind of a thank you for helping you out and making breakfast.” She said with a coy smile on her face.

“Well… um… I guess that all depends on how good breakfast is,” I stuttered in an attempt to dodge the subject and avoid further embarrassment.

She smiled, shook her head and proceeded to help me sit up and get out of bed. Doing so was a bit of a project and I winced a couple of times from the strain of just sitting up. Lexi then moved to face me, and with her hands under, and mine on her shoulders, I tried to stand up. It took a couple tries to get the leverage right, but we finally got me out of bed. The strain down there was a lot more then I had counted on, and I doubt I could have done it without her help. We then began the long slow agonizing walk to the bathroom.

Once we reached the bathroom, I steadied myself with my right hand on the sink counter, and my left clenching the doorknob. We decided to pause there for a moment so I could gain my composure.

“So now what, bro?”

“Well, as long as I’m in here, I might as well hit the head,” I joked.

“Well duh,” she goofily replied, “but exactly how do you plan on doing that?”

Then with a more serious tone, “The pamphlet that the doctor went over with us said that after the surgery your nice neat stream would be a spraying mess. You’re in no condition to clean up that mess, and there’s no way anyone else in this house is going to do it.”

She had a good point. I just figured she’d help line me up in front of the toilet, leave the room, and I’d take care of business. Once I finished up I’d ease my way in front of the sink, wash my hands and just call her back in.

“Well, I guess I could just sit on the toilet to pee? That would keep it from spaying everywhere.”

“Maybe to some degree, but it also might cause it to spray all over the underside of the toilet seat and on the back of your legs. Still making a mess.”

As I was mulling that over in my mind, she continued. “Not to mention you barely got off the bed even with my help, so there’s no way you’d get on and off the toilet by yourself. And don’t count on me helping with that, since you’ll have your pants around you ankles the whole time.”

She had a good point. It took quite a bit of effort to get me off the bed, not to mention the pain down there from the strain. It was unlikely I’d be able to get up or down on my own. Plus, I would indeed need to pull my pants down before using the toilet, and having my pants down while my sister helped my get off the toilet was definitely not an option. As I stood there weighing my options, I could start to feel an urgency to solve this dilemma, because I hadn’t gone since yesterday at the hospital. So I looked back at Lexi and asked if she had any ideas.

“Let’s see… if you were standing you wouldn’t need my help, and I could leave the room while you drop your drawers and do your business, but that would make a mess. On the other hand, if you’re seated on the toilet your ding-a-ling would be inside the bowl and you might not make a mess, but you’d be stuck on the toilet. Hmm… let me think a minute.”

“Not to rush you, but I haven’t gone since yesterday and now that I’m up and about, it’s kind of got things wanting to flow,” I said as I could feel the pressure building,

“Hold on, hold on, I think I’ve got it, give me second.” She then took a couple steps back as if surveying the situation.

“Okay, how about we combine the two options and you kneel in front of the toilet?”