It didn’t help that she was terribly shy, constantly covering herself with her arms, and always speaking with a very quiet voice. She wore a long skirt to cover her legs and a baggy sweater to cover her figure, even though it seemed like she had a decent figure that she should have been flaunting for the sake of her own authenticity. She left with the world’s quietest goodbye—I almost didn’t catch it.
Taylor put the box of makeup supplies next to her bed. “Just you wait,” she said to me with that adorable smile, just before the nurse came by and closed that curtain. We kept talking late into the night, even though I couldn’t see her anymore.
When I woke up in the morning, the hospital was buzzing with activity. I’d slept all the way through to visiting hours, and every hospital room was crowded with visitors except for ours. And I was surprised that Taylor hadn’t woken me up to chat, and none of the nurses had woken me up to make sure I was eating my breakfast mush.
I reached down and pressed the button that made my hospital bed tilt up. I thought about calling out to Taylor, to make sure that she was still alive. I’d slept so heavily that I probably would have slept through almost any amount of commotion.
But I remained silent for my first hour awake. And then a nurse came to me and asked me how I was doing. “I’m fine. Just bored,” I said. “Can’t we get a little TV in here or something?” She just smiled and me and then left me alone to wish that I had a television or anything—even a deck of playing cards. I thought it was strange that the hospital didn’t have things like TVs or iPads or playing cards. Surely keeping patients sane should have been somewhat of a priority…
“My whole first month here, I thought I was going to go crazy without a TV,” said Taylor from the other side of the curtain. I was relieved to hear her voice, to hear that she was still alive. “But you get used to it. TV kind of sucks anyway. Being bored really isn’t so bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” I said. “I haven’t even been here for an eighth of my sentence and I’m already going crazy.” I tried to squirm and then I felt that pain itching up my spine—though the pain wasn’t as bad as the day before. It was getting a little bit better every day, which made sense.
The doctor came by around noon to tell me that I was no longer at risk of dying from the slightest movement. “But you still can’t walk—that would kill you. Try to keep pressure off your spine if possible. Right now it’s looking like there will be no permanent damage, as long as you keep pressure off of that spine.” The doctor told me he would check on me after the weekend, and then he left me alone to be bored again. I tried asking the nurse if I could go home and recover there, and she said, “Absolutely not,” with a big smile, and then she left me alone as well.
“We should celebrate,” said Taylor.
“Celebrate what?”
“Your healing spine,” she said. “That’s exciting, no?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, I say we celebrate,” she said.
“How to you propose we do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know—I thought you might have some ideas.”
“Maybe you could draw me a picture of a healthy spine with a bow tied around it.”
She laughed. Then the nurse came by and asked if we wanted the curtain pulled back. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Sure.” Then she pulled back the curtain and revealed the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. Taylor looked like a different girl. Her hair was curled and full and running down to her tits. Her face was all dolled up, making her eyes look huge and shining and pretty, and her lips looked plump and juicy. Her cheeks were red, but I don’t think from blush. She was smiling and biting the corner of her plump bottom lip.
“Wow,” I said. “You really weren’t kidding.”
“I clean up nicely,” she said with a suddenly coy voice.
“I’d say,” I said. I was having a hard time looking away from her, but I forced myself to look towards the door. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable—though maybe she wanted me to stare at her. Maybe that’s why she went through the trouble of getting all pretty. Who else was she getting pretty for? So I looked back at her, my cheeks now burning hot. She looked so natural, but it was such an unnatural sight. She was already convincing before the makeup, but now she was unquestionably female. It just didn’t make any sense in my brain. It just seemed so wrong, even though she looked so right.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I felt like a thirteen-year-old boy talking to a post-pubescent girl for the first time. A chill crept down my spine and I stuttered before changing the subject. “So I never asked—do you like sports? I’m a huge Maple Leafs fan. I wonder how they’re doing? They were on a streak before I got hit by that car. It’s too bad we don’t get any games here. Do you like hockey?” My mouth was running off without me, trying desperately to hide my suddenly awkwardness. She just giggled and played along, and it wasn’t long before we were having one of our long conversations.
And then the doctor came back with the results from Taylor’s latest blood test. He shut the curtain without asking and then he said, “I’ve got some bad news, I’m afraid. It’s not looking good. The cancer has spread to all of your major organs. Your liver is in the process of shutting down as we speak.”
“H—How long do I have?” Taylor asked. I could almost hear the tears welling up in her eyes.
“A couple of nights, if you’re lucky. We’ll keep you on the trial and hopefully we can at least use it as a learning experience. So please, if you can, keep track of all the side effects—every little headache and pain. It’s very important for the sake of research.”
“Okay,” she replied with a broken voice. And then the doctor left. He didn’t reopen that curtain. It remained shut. I could hear Taylor trying not to cry, holding back her tears with big, deep breaths. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I couldn’t console her from my bed. I was useless, stuck listening to a dying girl’s last tears. And still, for some reason, I felt terribly guilty.
CHAPTER VI
That guilt remained with me until late that night, hours after the lights had gone out and the hospital had become quiet. For so long, I couldn’t figure out why I was guilty—and then it hit me. Technically, I was in a position to help. I couldn’t save Taylor, or even help her live any longer, but I could help to alleviate her one, biggest regret: she wanted to have sex.
And the thought of having sex with her was terrifying. She had a cock, and her asshole was technically the asshole of a biological male—but I had the overwhelming feeling that I had to do it. I had to do it for her, or that guilt was only going to get worse. And I didn’t have much time to get the job done.
It was 1:00 AM when I called out to her. “Are you still awake?” I asked.
I heard her sniffle and then she said, “Yeah. What’s up?”
I took a deep breath. My hands were trembling. But I just had to do it—I no longer saw any other choice. “Want to come over here for a bit?”
I heard another sniffle and then I heard the creaking of bedsprings as she brought herself up to her feet. She came around the corner. She was still dolled up, though her mascara had run down her cheeks. She still looked beautiful. She still looked like an amazingly convincing woman—and I knew that would help. She went to sit down in the chair next to the curtain, and then I said, “Maybe you can come sit here, on the edge of the bed.”
She looked at me for a moment and then she let a little laugh slip. “One wrong move and I could break your spine,” she said.
“I’ll take my chances. C’mon.” I strained to nudge myself over, giving her a little bit of room to get comfortable. As she took the seat, I was struck by her perfume. “You smell nice,” I said.
“Thanks. I figured if I’m going to die, I should at least die smelling pretty. Though I hear that you poop yourself when you die—so I’m sure the perfume was really a waste
.”
“Well for what it’s worth, I like it,” I said, looking up into her eyes. “Sorry I can’t sit up with you.” I nudged myself further back, to the edge of the small bed. “You’re welcome to lay down here, if you want.” My heart was pounding. I had no idea how I was going to do it. I thought about simply asking: ‘Do you want to fuck?’ but what if she said no? Then she would die with regret and humiliation. I didn’t want her to think that I pitied her, even though I technically was. I was surprised when she lay down next to me, facing me, looking into my eyes with that pained smile that made my heart hurt so badly. “Sorry about the bad news,” I said.
“It is what it is,” she said.
“I would try to say something to make you feel better, but I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said.
And I continued to stare into her eyes. I still couldn’t believe those eyes belonged to a man—I still technically didn’t have proof that it was true. Sure, I’d heard the doctor saying it was true, and she basically admitted that it was true, but I still hadn’t seen her cock or balls. I’d only seen her face and her figure—both of which were dramatically feminine. So maybe it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe I wasn’t really grasping the reality of the situation.
“Should you be laying like that?” she asked.
“It only hurts a little bit. I don’t think my spine is as bad as they say it is. I think they’re just trying to scare me into staying here, so I rack up a big hospital bill. They need to get paid at the end of the day.”
She laughed. Her laugh was even cuter up close. “That’s probably it,” she said. And then I strained with all of the mobility I had, and I kissed her on the lips. She was frozen at first, but then she kissed back. My heart was pounding, desperately trying to remind me that she was male. But I already knew that—I couldn’t make myself forget it, no matter how hard I tried. But I knew I had to kiss her. I knew that it was the right thing to do. I knew that it would feel awkward and uncomfortable, but I just had to do it…
But it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. As soon as she started kissing back, it felt natural. It was like kissing a girl (and I’d kissed half a dozen girls in my life). Her lips were soft and full. She gently bit my bottom lip, pulling it back playfully before coming back in for a kiss. I quickly forgot why I’d been so hesitant to kiss her.
She put her hands gently on my body. She ran her fingers up and down, pausing over each bandage. She finally found spots on my body that weren’t bandaged or scarred, so that’s where her hands settled while we continued kissing. Her tongue gently penetrated my lips, and it locked with my tongue.
And now, I was starting to feel confident that there had been some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe I’d dreamed all that stuff about her being a man, taking hormones, getting implants—though as I squeezed her tits now, her breasts did feel like implants. I could feel the curves of the slightly stiff sacs in her chest. They were still nice to squeeze, but they also served as reminders that I maybe wasn’t dreaming all of that transgender stuff up.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if I’d been dreaming when I overheard the stuff about Taylor being transgender. I knew that I hadn’t been, but I liked holding onto a morsel of hope that she was really a female. And maybe I could keep it that way. “Flip over,” I whispered.
She stared into my eyes. “Why?” she asked.
“Just flip over,” I said.
There was a bit of hesitation, and then she flipped herself over. Then, I gently pulled up her gown, revealing her panties. I took them and nudged them down to the bottom of her ass, so that her asshole was exposed. I didn’t pull them down any further, worried something would fall out that I didn’t want to see. Then I got my own cock out from my gown and boxer shorts. I heard Taylor taking a deep breath in. I ran my hand down the smooth skin of her side. “Ready?” I asked as I teased the tip of my throbbing erection between her butt cheeks.
She nodded her head, probably too nervous to reply with words. I wiggled my cock in deep, until it was pressed against her tight hole. Then, with a bit of saliva as lubricant, I started pushing. And she wasn’t stopping me—she was letting me put it in her ass. If she was a real woman, surely she would have stopped me and told me to put it in her pussy. I tried not to think about it. With my eyes, I could see a woman. I could see long, soft hair and delicate skin. I could see the narrow waist and wide hips of a woman. I could see the curves of her breasts and her plump tush. She was a woman in my mind, at least in that moment. So I pushed my cock into her, penetrating her tight asshole. She let a sharp gasp slip, so I reached around and covered her mouth. If the nurses found us like this, they would have a fit. I was risking my life just by lying on my side, and she could drop dead at any moment. And it wouldn’t look good if she died with my erect cock in her ass, would it?
I sunk my cock deeper and deeper, feeling her throbbing anal walls. She was tight. I’d never been in an asshole before, but I never suspected it to be this tight of a squeeze. She was holding tightly onto the metal bars of the hospital bed, breathing deeply, groaning slightly whenever I pushed a little bit too quickly. “Are you okay?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair off of her face.
She nodded her head. “Yeah—I’m fine,” she said. So I sunk my cock even deeper. “Oh God, you’re so big. Tell me it’s almost all the way in.”
“Almost,” I said. I gave it another little push, pressing my pelvis against her soft, warm ass. “Now it’s it,” I said. And she was straining, clenching hard, probably in a bit of pain as her asshole stretched wide. I took a deep breath, waited a moment for her to relax a little bit, and then I started to thrust. It felt good—oh God, did it feel good. She was still squirming and trying to fight back the pain, so I held off on going too hard. I eased her into it, and it wasn’t long before I noticed her body beginning to relax. Her shoulders sunk down and she let a long sigh of relief slip out from her lips.
So I started pushing in a bit harder and a bit faster. I held her hips tightly with my hands. Then I gave one hard shove, deep into her asshole, and a pain shot up my spine. I gasped and froze as that pain consumed my whole body. I thought at first that I’d paralyzed myself, and then I wiggled my toes and fingers and realized I was still okay. But that pain was still there. “I need to lay on my back I think,” I said, my heart suddenly pounding. That was too close—satisfying Taylor’s last wish wasn’t worth risking my life.
So I pulled out and rolled onto my back. She turned around and looked at me with a pale, worried face. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said. “I think I just need a minute.”
She stared at me for a minute with her shining eyes, and then she said, “I have an idea. I’ll be careful—I promise.”
She threw one knee over me and then she straddled me, pressing her warm bum down on my thighs. She carefully walked herself up, until that bum was over my erect cock, which was still slick with saliva. She held the metal bars of the hospital bed firmly as she lowered herself down, making sure to put absolutely no weight on my body. “Is this okay?” she asked.
And the pain had started to subside. Everything felt fine, so I said, “It’s good. Just be careful.” So she lowered herself down super slowly, getting my cock back deep into her asshole. Her body shuddered and she let a little moan slip. Now I could see her beautiful face and her perfect tits. But I could also see a bulge in her hospital gown, poking out and holding her gown out. She was erect. That bulge could have only belonged to a cock. So I tried not to look. I tried to keep my gaze up at her beautiful face so that I could stay hard and in the moment. The sooner I came, the sooner the act was done, and the sooner that guilt would be gone.
She started to rise and fall, using the hospital bed to pull herself up and down. It felt nice, as long as my gaze was up, looking into her eyes. She was still clenching with her butt, but the clenching only made it feel better. A warm buzzing started moving through my body
. I could feel a tingle developing in the tip of my cock, and suddenly, I became worried that I was about to unload. I couldn’t come this quickly and ruin Taylor’s first time in a matter of seconds. I needed to last, to make her first time memorable, to make it something she could smile while thinking about as she faced her final moments.
So I forced myself to look down at that bulge. I knew it would take me out of the moment and make the arousal subside. I could use that cock to control myself, so I could decide when I would come. But that bulge alone wasn’t stopping that tingling. I needed more. So I lifted up her gown and let it sit on top of her erection. Now I could see her cock—her undeniably male cock, erect and bouncing. I stared at it for a moment, waiting for it to do its magic, to kill my arousal, but it didn’t work. I was still horny, still on the verge of coming. And now I couldn’t look away from it, mesmerized by how it was bouncing up and down and slapping from side to side. She had a big cock—especially for a girl.
Maybe if I touched it—then the arousal would go away—then I could last longer. My heart skipped a beat and then stuttered into a fierce pounding. I reached forward and gently slipped my fingers around it. It was warm and throbbing. I could feel her veins—and it felt so good. I don’t know why, but it was just so satisfying to hold in my hand.
Taylor moaned. She was cupping her breasts with her hands, squeezing them, making her nipples pop out erect. Her body trembled and her knuckles started to turn white as she squeezed the bed’s bars even tighter. “Oh God,” she moaned. Her face was dark red and her eyes were closed tight. My fist was still clenched around her cock, still pumping her hard. And then, without warning, she burst. Streamers of cum sprayed up into the air, landing on my chest, spoiling my hospital gown. She made quite the mess, but I wasn’t upset. I was turned on. I’d never been so turned on in my life.
Big Hard Girls Page 32
