Bigger and Better, Life Goes On

Hope you enjoy, as always. Give it the star it deserves, and comments are always welcome. Oh, by the way, this is my first attempt in this category. Cheers, everyone.

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My attorney did his best to get me off the hook for having to do the summer semester, but the university's board of regents had made up their minds. They wanted to ensure that the NIL money and scholarship they were providing me were going towards a five-star incoming freshman striker for the men's soccer program.

"Yeah, kid, your appearance has seen some changes. Good changes, if you don't mind me saying, and they want to be sure that they're getting what they're paying for," shrugging his shoulders before saying, "It's just business, kid."

That's what Antoni Del Negro, my attorney, said to me the last time I was in his office. My attorney looks like he would be really comfortable defending the mob instead of some eighteen-year-old kid dealing with Mild Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome.

I'm constantly giving my mom a hard time about the attorney she picked out for me, but at least he managed to get a rewrite on my contract. If I can survive the heat I'm experiencing today, I'll actually make more money than before.

At least I should be grateful that I'm not attending any university in Texas or I'd be fucking dead for sure. The heat back home is no joke, but even up here in the mountains, the heat isn't exactly letting up.

I really shouldn't complain, after all, it's barely 10 a. m., and I'm done in the weight room. Now it's on to meetings, followed by lunch. More meetings after lunch, then a couple of hours off in the afternoon, then it's back here for the actual work.

Outside for two hours for evening drills, which involved a lot of running, a lot of running. But it wasn't all gloom and doom. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had a whole team of trainers and coaches at my disposal.

And that, I owe it all to my attorney. Mr. Del Negro made sure that if I were to be judged on my capabilities as a male athlete, it would be for soccer, not football.

Thanks to his rework of my contract, I have a trainer for weight training, a trainer for running, and a trainer for soccer skills. I have a dietitian, a counselor, and an endocrinologist monitoring my MAIS every other week.

All these people are monitoring my progress with the health condition that I've been dealing with since forever, MAIS. It's what's put me in a women's body yet I still have my cock and balls no matter how small they may be.

The university wants to ensure that my abilities are comparable to those of a male athlete, which I can understand. I guess. Like Mr. Del Negro says, "It's just business, kid."

Whatever, sometimes I feel like I'm the monkey on the end of the leash, and the university is the organ grinder.

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"I see you're with us for another week, I guess this means you haven't grown a vagina."

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the ever-popular Mr. Jacob McCandles.

And with that comment two of the guys sitting at our table spit their drinks out while the rest covered their mouths while letting out a silent, "Awe shit."

Jacob is the three-year starting quarterback for the football team.

Since I arrived for the summer session, and for whatever unknown reason, Jake decided to take me under his wing, allowing me to join his band of merry men.

A group of the most popular players on the football team and two of his best friends from his high school, who joined the team along with him three years ago.

While he can be a bit crass at times, he's actually a good guy.

Sitting down between him and his left-tackle seems to be where I fit in with the table, and after his cute opening line, everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

"Aren't you the funny man today? Did Lisa take care of you this weekend, boss?" I immediately shot back with a smile before biting into my crisp apple.

"Hey, you leave my lovely Lisa alone at least..."

A deep raspy voice interjected before he let out another word, blocking what was sure to be another of his greatest one-liners.

"Easy, Jake," J. T. warned.

J. T., my new best friend, quickly cut Jacob off before he said anything too objectionable for his taste. J. T. is the guy on the field who keeps Jacob from getting hurt, and they've been best friends forever.

If anyone can keep Jake in check, it's him...

The thing I can't explain is that, for some reason, J. T. is very protective of me.

From the very first day that I joined the table, J. T. has always watched out for me, and right then, I think J. T. was letting Jacob know that not even he would be allowed to mess with me.

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John Tyler is the left-tackle, and he followed Jacob here from their little ranching community on the Panhandle of Texas. Both are three-year starters, and both can declare for the draft after the season is over because they are that good.

As I mentioned, when I arrived here in June, Jacob had me join him at his table on the first day, and from that moment on, I was treated like a made-man in the mob by everyone.

Which gave me instant credibility and respect, and I have not had a single issue with anyone. Never mind that I stick out like a sore thumb.

Everything about me screams that I'm a member of the women's soccer team, not the men's. I'd been undergoing a late-stage growth spurt, and from all I could tell, the only things growing were my breasts and maybe my hips.

While I wasn't running around flaunting anything, it's a little hard to miss taught firm breasts that easily fill an A-cup bra on an upper body like mine. Yes, it's athletic, yes, it's well-toned, but I don't have big, broad shoulders like a man.

My legs are runners' legs because that's what I do for the entirety of the day.

The only time I'm not running is when I'm at my apartment. I have washboard abs, and my obliques perfectly frame them, and flow beautifully down to my lower abdomen creating a tiny waist before my hips and my ass take over.

From my birthday this past Christmas break to the present, now early July, my body has undergone a transformation that is, even for me, hard to believe. I don't know if I'd have the same amount of respect from everyone in the building had it not been for Jacob accepting me for who I am.

J. T., on the other hand, is a totally different story. It took me a while, but I finally caught on that he has a thing for me. When we're alone, he's pulling my chair back for me to sit, he's opening doors for me, and the other night, when we went out to eat, he caught himself ordering for me.

He asked me what I wanted, and I told him, not thinking anything of it. When the waitress came for our order, he ordered his meal, and before she could turn to ask for mine, he interrupted her with, "And she'll have..."

It was the first time anyone had used a feminine pronoun when speaking of me. I blushed, but I didn't correct him, and the moment passed with me being the only one to notice it.

There is a specific dynamic in play when we're alone, and instead of saying anything about it, I go along with it. At first, he made me nervous; then, as I got to know him, I realized he was being genuine with his intentions, and I began to feel more at ease around him.

But as of today, it's been strictly friendship, and I'm ok with that.

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"J. T., you need to make your move, buddy, I mean, look at her," Jacob said, slightly frustrated.

While that was new and unexpected, for the past month and a half, nobody in the building had ever referred to me as a "her," until just now, and everyone at the table, myself included, froze.

It was not lost on me that this was now the second time that I had been referred to with a feminine pronoun.

We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, when in fact, it had only been seconds before I broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Don't let the breast fool you, boss, I'm a guy."

My quick thinking defused the thought of any situation occurring, which created giggles and a slow positive reaction, or the golf clap version of laughter. I was relieved that what was a touchy subject for me did not upset the relationships that I'd started at this table.

I didn't allow Jakes snide little comment to pass yet I didn't lose my shit either. Jake immediately apologized and let me know in a friendly and cordial manner that he'd meant it as a compliment.

He went on to let me know that he was just amazed at how beautiful I was, and it didn't matter to him that I was a guy; he finished his thought by saying, "J. T. needs to make a move!"

Lance Briggs, Jacobs favorite receiver on the team changed the subject and everyone went about having lunch and talking about the mornings weight lifting and how shit was starting to get better because everyone's body had adjusted to the routine already.

One by one, everyone left the table until it was just J. T. and me. I was feeling nervous, and I could tell by the way he was fidgeting in his seat that he was, too.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he asked. "Same as last weekend, why?" I answered.

"Wanna hang out?"

I looked down at my tray and smiled. It'd been a while, and I won't lie, I've been craving some attention, and J. T. was perfect.

"You making your move?" I asked. "I am," he answered.

Both of us smiled, "I guess I'll be spending the weekend with you."

We got up from the table and went about the rest of our time in meetings before heading back for our afternoon break.

We'd meet at his truck after my last meeting so he could drive me to my place, which was within walking distance, but he'd been picking me up and driving me back for the last four weeks.

We arrived at my place, and everything changed right away.

Instead of just dropping me off, I asked him if he wanted to come inside, which he accepted. He walked in and sat down on the couch, and I told him I was going to shower quickly, if that was okay with him.

"Sure, babe, take your time."

I could feel my face flush red at the sound of his deep voice calling me "babe," and I scurried off to my room before he could see me. The part that I really enjoy about all of this is the sensations I began to experience.

Instantly, I could feel the nerves in the pit of my stomach. Butterflies, some people call them, I call them nerves. I began to question myself, what should I wear, how do I look?

I know we had just agreed to spend the weekend together, but he was in my living room. Sitting on my couch. Without wasting any more time, I jumped in the shower.

I did a quick rinse and checked myself for any body hair, which I had yet to grow, but I always checked. I've been smooth all of my life except for the thin peach fuzz on my ass, arm pit hair, which I kept smooth so that didn't count.

I dried off and pulled out a nice pair of lace panties. I slipped on a pair of comfortable shorts, not too short, with a length that hit just above mid-thigh, and a cute little midriff tank top with spaghetti straps.

I checked my hair, which I'd cut into a Pixie cut before arriving on campus last month. I also had it colored ash and smoke. Why they didn't just call it grey and silver was beyond me.

Checking myself out in my full-length mirror, this was the girliest J. T. would have ever seen me. I looked good; I nodded in approval. It had taken me thirty minutes to finish, and walking back into the living room, J. T. turned as soon as he saw me.

By the look in his eye and his smile, I could tell that he approved. He stuck out his arm and offered me his hand.

Not thinking anything of it, I took his hand, and within a blink, I found myself being pulled like a rag doll, landing on his lap. I sat there perfectly seated on his lap.

Back straight, shoulders back, chest up, wide-eyed. The fingers of my right hand covered my mouth, with a look of "Oh my," on my face.

When I felt his hand press against the small of my back and begin to move up my back gently, I could feel myself begin to blush.

I didn't wear a bra, and all it took was his touch, and my areolas became swollen, creating a perfect outline with the cotton material of my tank top.

I looked down and could see that my nipples were practically pointing towards the ceiling. I leaned into him, trying to bury my face into his neck, trying to hide the change of color on my cheeks.

"Hey," he whispered, "Are you hiding?"

"Yes," I pouted.

"Hey, look at me," he whispered again. "Look at me."

I sat up a bit, allowing him to look into my eyes. Being around J. T. for the past however many weeks we'd been together at the athletic complex, I'd wondered if he liked me or if he was just an overtly friendly person.

In that moment, I was discovering that it was both, and that just made me want his approval more than anything else.

"You don't have to hide from me. This is new to me too, I've never liked a girl like you, hell, I've never known a girl like you."

"But I'm a guy, J. T.," I responded with a disappointed tone.

"Babe, I understand that you were born a guy, but look at you. If you felt comfortable being a guy, wouldn't you dress like one?"

He was right, I only felt comfortable dressing as a girl, and the last two times that someone referred to me with female pronouns, I liked it. I liked it very much. It took me a minute to focus before I could answer.

"I hope you can be patient with me because dressing as a girl and being one is something that I'm going to have to come to terms with."

Sitting in his lap while cupping my hands in mine, all the while staring down at them as I spoke, must have told J. T. the intensity of my situation and what I was having to grapple with.

"Babe, take your time. If you want me to look at you as a guy, I will if..."

"No!" I blurted out, cutting him off, "I can be your girl, I mean I like that you think of me as a girl, oh, you know what I mean, right?"

Looking confused as I stumbled to say what I meant, I looked into his eyes. Then, I quickly looked away and switched my attention back to my hands again.

"Look at me," J. T. said, placing his index finger on my chin and turning my face to look at him.

"I don't want you to be my girl. I want you to tell me whether I should use 'he' or 'she'. Him or her. I want what you want, babe."

Looking into those beautiful blue eyes, I'd come to a crossroads, and I fully understood what he was asking me. He didn't care whether I thought of myself as a boy or a girl, her or him. It was up to me to choose not for him. He just wanted to let me know that either way, I had his respect.

I held my breath, looked at him, and said, "I feel more comfortable like I am now, and if that makes me a girl, then I'm a girl. I'm ok with being known as a girl."

That was all that was needed. J. T. leaned down and met my lips with his. It was the most intense kiss that I'd ever felt, and all of my defenses came tumbling down.

I could feel him cradling me in his arms as he started to stand up with me. It was when he stood up and I released his kiss, my arms wrapped around his neck and my face pressed against his, that it hit me.

J. T. was tall, and I knew that, but at that moment, as he started carrying me to my room, and when he had to duck his head down to go through the doorway, it really hit me. J. T. was a foot and four inches taller than I was, and he weighed twice as much as I did and then some.

I closed my eyes and suckled his neck; I was in trouble.

He gently laid me down on my bed, stood straight up, and took off his shirt. I instantly started drooling precum. If I had any cock size it would have ripped my panties in half.

Because I only have what I have, I quickly glanced down and noticed a growing wet spot on my panties. When I looked up, J. T. was hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants, and he smiled at me.

He'd caught me checking myself out. I grabbed my tank top and pulled it off, propping myself up with the exaggerated amount of pillows on my bed. My eyes were devouring the show he was putting on for me, and his eyes were doing the same to me.

When he stood up and I finally saw what was between his legs, my eyes went wide, and I let out a gasp. My legs began to rub against each other instantly. Had I been a cricket, the noise would have been unbearable.

Tim was my first and only, which, looking back, maybe that's why I thought he was so big. Seeing J. T.'s cock quickly let me know that, if anything, Tim was just barely above average.

J. T. was long and thick, thick. A part of me was terrified, and the other part of me wanted my lips around it. In fact, when J. T. started to climb onto the bed I thought that he was going to shove that monstrosity of a cock head into my mouth but no.

I was in for a surprise.

He stopped at my stomach and started kissing my abdomen. My head snapped back, and I let out an audible moan. My hands grabbed a fistful of my comforter, and I spread my legs for him.

He got to my belly button and started to flick his tongue over it again and again. Then he suckled it as if he were trying to get my innie to become an outie.

While I was very much aroused, this made me giggle and squirm until I had to cry out while giggling, "Stop!"

He laughed, and when he did, I could feel my body vibrate because of it. Then I felt myself lift my hips, and my panties were coming off. He got up on his knees to hold my legs up to allow him to slip and toss my panties to the side.

When he released my legs, I casually spread them apart and pulled my knees back, all the way back until they were against the mattress on either side of me. I felt that he wanted to see his prize and if I'm going to accept my role of being a girl, I wanted to show him my pussy.

Judging by the smile on his face, he approved, and then he began to lower his face towards it. In my mind I thought to myself that he was going to lick my pussy imagine my surprise when he engulfed my tiny one-and-a-half-inch penis along with my equally small testicles into his mouth.

My shoulders came up off the mattress, and had it not been for my hands holding a handful of bedding beneath me, I might have stuck to the ceiling like a cat. The breath that I took had to have sucked out all of the oxygen in the room.

My ankles went over his shoulders immediately, and when my back finally lowered itself back down to the mattress, my head began to sway side to side, slowly at first.

J. T. was suckling my cock and balls with even more intensity than he had my belly button if that is even possible. Then he'd alternate from my little sack to my little cock and it was heaven.

Being my first time having my cock in this predicament it wasn't long before I was gasping out loud trying to warn him.

"Babe, babe, oh babe... stop. I'm going to cum if you don't stop. Babe please, oh babe..."

He didn't stop, and I couldn't hold it. I came. I came hard, very hard. I came. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say that I was shooting ropes. I was shooting stream after stream, and I'd never done that."

When I cum I get an ache where my taint is which coincidently is where my prostate is. My legs and ass quiver, my body spasms and cum drools out of my cock.

It's a decent amount but it never, "shoots" or becomes a "rope," of cum. It just drools out.

At that moment, all of the above was happening, and I was a breath away from passing out. Finally, J. T. stopped suckling my cock and I laid there trying to catch my breath.

I could feel the bed moving, and I lifted my legs off of J. T.'s shoulders, allowing him to stand up at the side of the bed. I opened my eyes and stared at him, this gentle giant.

The stories that I'd heard at the lunch table about how he plays the game of football seemed like lies to me at that moment.

How could this gentle giant cause so much pain on the field of play? There was no way.

What he did next sent me over an emotional cliff. While returning my gaze he drooled out a long strand of cum down into his hand which he had hoovering just inches above his cock.

He'd saved all the cum I dumped in his mouth and now there was a big dollop landing into the palm of his hand. I moaned again because I knew what he was doing and the fact that he was using my own cum as lube made me start rubbing my legs together all over again.

He began rubbing cum all over his cock and then he drooled out another thick strand into his hand again rubbing that all over his cock.

He started to crawl back onto the bed, and I obediently spread my legs and pulled them apart as wide as I could and as far back as they could go.

He grabbed my hips and lifted them ever so slightly so that my pussy was at a perfect angle for him to once again release another drool of cum, the last of it, out of his mouth onto my pussy.

When it landed, I could swear that I heard it make a loud splattering sound, which made me shudder. When he put the head of cock against my opening I reached down and placed my hands on his lower abdomen and prepared to push him back.

"Just relax, relax and breathe, baby girl." I nodded yes, bit my lower lip, and then he pushed.

In order for his cock not to have penetrated my tight asshole it would have had to have been made of steel because the strength of his thick thighs, his hips one push was all it took and he pierced the head of his cock inside of me.

I wanted to push his abdomen to make him back up, but there was no chance of that. My head started flaying side to side as I tried to breathe, not hyperventilate.

The head of his cock had me stretched wider than I'd ever imagined possible.

Once the shock of the initial penetration wore off, I was surprised to find that while I was uncomfortable, the pain was more than bearable; in fact, it had begun to arouse me rather than scare me.

Maybe Tim had been good for something after all.

J. T. must have sensed my arousal because in seconds he'd started to push his cock deeper inside of me. Slowly but steady he rolled his hips forward and upward until I could feel his massive balls come to rest against my ass.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, started to suckle any part of him that I could place my mouth on until I found his mouth, and we began kissing furiously.

He slipped his forearms under my shoulders and locked his hands over them.

He started rolling his hips down and back sliding his cock out of me only coming to stop when the head was right at the point of almost slipping out of me then he'd roll his hips forward and upward making sure that the head nudged my prostate to let it know that it was about to be smothered by the length and thickness of his gorgeous cock.

Down and back to a stop, then upward and forward until he could go no deeper. Over and over J. T. fucked me. My toes were pushing down on his hips there was no longer any pain to speak of only electricity from his cock gliding over my prostate over and over again.

We'd finally stopped kissing, and now I was matching his hip movements. We were fucking with intensity and purpose now.

When he pulled down and out, I tightened my grip on his cock and pulled moved my hips down and back. When he rolled his hips upward and forward, I relaxed my grip on his cock and rolled my hips up to meet his down stroke.

We had reached the point where I felt as if I were riding a horse, which I was; we were in a gallop, our hips rocking to the steady rhythm that had taken hold of us.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

"I'm going to cum," he grunted.

"Cum," I gasped in response because by that point I was ready to cum as well.

"Fuck Sam, I'm going to cum babe!"

"Fucking cum!" I squealed.

He slammed his cock deeper than before; I screamed in both intense pleasure and intense pain! I could feel his cock shooting violent strands of cum deep inside of me. The sensation that it gave me sent me over the edge.

The intensity of his orgasm had me coming again and again and again. Both of us were gasping for air, and both of us were quivering against each other.

I'm almost positive that I passed out briefly because one minute I'm feeling my insides being hit with a jet spray of cum and the next I can hear J. T. calling me over and over.

"Sam, Sam, hey Sam!"

When I finally heard him, I remember gasping for air and beginning to tremble. That's when he lifted himself onto his knees to pull his cock out of me.

"NO! No, no..."

I cried out, slowly turning myself into a fetal position and grabbing onto his wrist, pulling him down next to me. Positioning him to spoon me while having him not take his cock out of me.

"Don't pull out," I pleaded. "Lay down with me, please, just hold me," I begged.

J. T. did just that, and once again, the size difference was mind-blowing for me. He tucked me into his body, his massive cock buried inside of me while I lay there quivering in his arms.

We'd fucked for an hour and had an hour to rest before having to be back at the athletic facility for evening run drills. When his cock went limp it was still so long that we both had to move our hips apart to allow it to slip out of me.

When it did, I could hear my pussy, asshole, this is so confusing for me.

I could hear my hole gurgling and a wet spot growing under me. It was J. T.'s cum and while I understood the mess it was making for me to lay in it, I didn't mind.

It almost felt like lying on the wet spot was the way it was supposed to be...