A Reason
‘Yes!… Yes!… More! (Pant) Mooaar!… Ohhh I love it! Grab me! Squeeze me! Make me bounce all over! Ahhh yeah! Oh you feel so big inside me! So much better since I go so wonderfully fat! And I’m gonna get fatter… for you… for me… for us!’
Dean was having a very nice fantasy dream. In it, he in the form of a younger, handsomer healthy man with dark hair named Max was sharing sex with an insatiable supersized BBW goddess, who’d apparently gained from plump to her current magnificently large size once Max entered her life and captured her heart. Just exactly the sort of beautiful lovemaking he’d always dreamed might be possible—unreality to him—which Dean needed to imagine with his whole being to make it through another day.
A knock on the door awoke him and instantly erased most of the dream from his conscious mind.
“Good morning” a low-pitched, smooth soothing female voice softly intoned.
Dean thought for sure he was still dreaming, or hallucinating, once the body connected to the voice revealed itself. There in the doorway stood a blonde bombshell! Standing about 1.7 m tall, she had that blonde blue-eyed Scandinavian milk maid look going on: fair-skinned, curvy, buxom. But better: she was fat. Not the supersized goddess of his dream, yet a BBW all around, with soft fat buns and hips and belly in addition to big wobbly breasts… and appearing very, very real. He had to open-mouthed stare at her as she sauntered over to his bedside in an extremely sexy manner.
“Did I wake you?” she asked in the same soft, soothing tone.
“I… I don’t know” he responded. “I must still be dreaming. You’re not like the other nurses.”
She felt more than saw his visual intensity as she got to work changing his IV bags and tubing. “Oh, how’s that?”
“You’re gorgeous!”
Becky couldn’t recall having been called anything of the sort for well over a decade. She felt his forehead, which was burning hot. “That’s very sweet of you.” Her voice sounded polite yet dismissive. She figured he must be seriously hallucinating and not seeing properly.
He seemed to be having difficulty focusing his eyes, confirming this theory.
“I’m Becky. I’ll be your nurse today.”
“All day?”
“All day. That OK by you?”
“Wonderfullll.”
“Let’s get you some water to sip. Then I’ll take your vitals and be on my way, so you can get back to sleep and that nice dream you seemed to be having.”
“Thank you but I’d rather be awake now… because you’re real.”
She smiled her friendly, wide smile, revealing the nice teeth behind her very lightly glossed lips. {Too bad he’s hallucinating} she thought.
His vitals followed a mirror image of what Nurse Jones documented: going from indicative of high stress down to low, peaceful numbers the longer she stayed—closer to what Dr. Farnsworth saw, but with an even slower, more tranquil breathing rate. This is not at all what she expected; usually the numbers went up towards a stressful state the longer she stayed with a patient, as Denish found with him earlier.
“All good right now?”
He nodded.
“Perfect. I’ll be taking care of some things for awhile. I’ll check back in on you now and then, but quietly, so you can sleep and regain your strength.”
“But I’ll miss you!”
Nobody’d said that to her in years! “Oh, I think you’ll come around to thinking you’ve seen more of me than you want.”
{She has no idea} he thought to himself.
“I’ll be sure to wake you up in time to say goodbye if you sleep all the way until 4, which for most of us is darn near impossible here. You really do need your sleep Mr. Evans, so you can get well.”
“There’s no such thing as my getting well. As you know, given that I’m here.”
Usually she didn’t mind patients being fatalistic. This time it felt like a gut punch: it really hurt! “Well why don’t you dream about healing? The mind’s powerful, you know.”
“I’ve done guided imagery.”
“Very good! Don’t you think you might as well use it so you can get better and get outta here?”
“It’s not that simple when I can’t eat food and have no worldly possessions and no one who cares about me.”
“Tell you what… dream about all those things… about each of them working out. Dream as deeply as you can. In the upcoming days when you’re awake, we’ll talk.”
With what little strength he had, Dean did his minuscule rendition of microscopically bolting up in bed. “Really?”
“Sure.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Now get to it!”
Whether he was dreaming deeply or not, he certainly remained asleep until mid afternoon. Perfect timing—time for a vitals check, and as he’d freshly awoken, she’d not need to disturb his slumber.
“Do you need to use the bedpan?” she asked at the conclusion of the vitals check.
He wished he could be kissing and/or fondling her wide, soft naked bottom rather than her wiping his small, boring one. “Yes please.”
“Ooh!” she exclaimed as his shoulder suddenly bumped her.
“Sorry! Leg cramp as I lifted up off the pan. You OK?”
“Fine. You alright?”
“Yes. Leg cramp’s gone, and I didn’t really feel the impact.”
“That’s ’cause you hit my boob. Didn’t hurt, just startled me.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely.” She emptied the bedpan in the toilet and flushed, continuing the conversation on the way back. “Occupational hazard since they’ve gotten bigger like this. One or the other or both usually bump or rub across something during the course of the day.”
Spasms of lust shooting through him made the vital signs monitor go wild.
“Mr. Evans? Are you sure you’re alright?” She touched his forehead then without thinking held his closest hand in hers. His breathing remained noisy yet stabilized along with his other vitals. “Talk to me?”
“All day and all night.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Becky, Mrs. Samuels needs her IV changed.”
“Thanks Denish. I’ll be right there.” She turned back to Dean, “You gonna be all right while I go take care of Mrs. Samuels?”
“As long as you come back” he replied wistfully.
She patted his arm. “I’ll check back with you as soon as I’m done.
When she did, he was already back asleep, vitals stable and strong. She took the opportunity to go fill out some paperwork.
“As promised, I’m here to say goodbye until next time.”
He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she swished back into the room. “You’re not my nurse tomorrow?”
“Don’t know. They haven’t made assignments yet.”
“Do they take requests?”
“Not usually, but I can ask.”
“I request that you be my nurse as much as possible.”
“You sure? Most people prefer Denish, Mandy, or Melissa.”
“I don’t! I prefer you, Nurse Becky… please.”
“OK, I’ll tell them, and we’ll see what happens.”