The Accident 28

The Accident

"...We found significant interactions between biological sex and sexual orientation, indicating that the significant effect of heightened size for the putamen cluster was driven by homosexual women..."

-Quote from scientific article on relationships between the hypothalamus, putamen and sexual orientation

A straight woman's medical procedure activates her Gaydar

I fiddled with the white hospital wristband on my left arm and absently read 'Alice Dupree' on it again. I'd had an accident. In my car.

I knew very little about brains until that auto accident drove a bit of sharp metal into my head. That sliver went kind of up the middle and it took me almost three months to recover. While I was lounging around in the hospital listening to doctors prognosticate about my chances, I'd had time on my hands so I did some research.

So, here is the thing.

My Hypothalamus was at risk. That's the brain portion that sits like an avocado pit just under the neocortex. You know, the neocortex is the main brain with all the wriggly parts where you think. The Hypothalamus is the bit that the main grey matter wraps around like a big blob...it's right in the middle of the head. Hardly surprising. The limbic system is nestled in there too. The limbic is where emotions reside. Anger. Fear. And of course, love. Not surprising that it also means the organs and its pieces there play a role in human sexuality too.

What I later figured out was that there is this structure surrounding the Hypothalamus that is called the Putamen. I never heard of it until the accident, but it turned out to be the exact spot where the edge of the piece of metal rested. In fact, it had pushed a bit of putamen physically up into my main brain. The doctors tell me that they had to go incredibly carefully to remove the sliver. Taking a couple hours to ease it free without wiggling it about too much and slicing up who knows what.

Afterward, they told me that post operative scans showed the putamen area of my brain had swollen from the injury. Irritated by the metallic shard probably. It had blown up and out to several times its original size.

They thought time might allow the swelling go down.

Cat scans and MRI images over the last few weeks have not shown it to reducing at all yet. It was almost a month and a half after the operation. The medicos all said that it might still un-swell, but you could hear the 'perhaps' in their voices when they did so. Beware the mighty 'might' word too, when it is coming from clergy or doctors.

Then last night, I was sleeping in my room in the hospital. I woke up in the middle of the night and realized that I was horny.

Understand - this was a good thing. My clitoris had not gotten hard to my knowledge since the operation and I had been halfway dreading that the accident had somehow messed up the sexual portion of my head around the hypothalamus too, and that little chunk of automobile might have made me incapable of sexual feelings or something.

Suddenly, here it was though. Unmistakable. I had a little throbber going.

Back again with a vengeance, apparently.

I knew I was wet from some dream I had been having before I came awake. I could not recall what the dream was specifically, but it must have been hot and it had certainly done its work. The tingle in my clit was stirrings of heat in my vagina were unmistakable.

Pleased, I abruptly decided to test myself to make sure that I was in fully working condition. I was already in bed. What the hell?

I reached down, lifted my gown to my waist under the sheet and shoved my fingers into the loose panties they'd issued me at the hospital. I envisioned my last lover who had possessed a nice seven-inch penis and went to town, flicking and rubbing my clit rapidly the way I like sometimes when playing with myself.

I got so far along and then I felt my desire slipping away.

This confused me as I was focused on what he had looked like when we got it on. His big hard-on waving about. That view should be heating me up nicely. I redoubled my focus and started masturbating again harder. Imagining us kissing and me feeling his big hard penis rubbing against my thigh as he pinched my breasts.

Still, the feelings kept slipping away from me.

I switched up and tried picturing another guy I'd had the hots for. Nothing. I was losing my erection. I switched around and thought instead about some favorite porno videos I had watched over the years. Envisioning a threesome with two ripped guys, one with his hardness in my mouth, the other in my vagina. It was one of my favorite fantasies. Always got me going envisioning it.

Still nothing.

I was getting frustrated.

At that moment though, a night nurse staffer came in.

I am not rich and my health care is not gold standard level so I was in this four-man room and three of the beds had patients in them right now counting me. The hospital just used curtains to separate the beds, but real privacy was an iffy proposition depending on the last person to move them around. At that moment I could not see my other two bedmates, but the space between them was wide open and visible in spill out light from the corridor.

I had frozen my fingers when the nurse came in and I was watching her to make sure she had not seen my wrist tenting the bedclothes and repeatedly lifting the sheet above my crotch as I diddled myself. I was assuming... make that hoping... she would leave soon so I could get back to caressing myself, but she was busily rummaging through a cabinet at one end of the room trying to find something. For some reason though there was this odd faint green glow around her that seemed in make her more visible in the half light. I recognized her slightly. The candy stripes were clear on her nurse dress and I knew she was an eighteen or nineteen-year-old intern with frizzy hair who helped around our ward. The kind who are working for little or nothing in the money line; basically, trying out nursing to see how they liked it before they took the big dive into the cost and time of study required to get a nursing license.

She bent over, reading labels on bottles with a small flashlight to enhance her sight and I thought there was a lot of ambient light through windows too so I could make her out pretty well. I blinked. The greenish glow still there. My eyes drifted over her on their own. Oddly, they followed her bottom as she bent and shifted forward to aid her peering in the poor illumination. I found my eyes tracking the rounded curves of her ass. The wide hips. The legs. Her skirt on the nurse's uniform lifted quite a bit in that position and she moved her hips side to side as she worked. She wasn't the prettiest girl in the world and had some of the late teen chubby weight on her that American girls tend to put on if they are not focused on controlling it.

Then it hit me. Physically penetrated through to my brain. As I was now scanning... watching her bottom, I had been fixatedly staring at her buttocks while almost unconsciously my fingers had begun furiously frigging my clit again.

And it was working for me!

I was masturbating to the sight of another female's ass! What the hell?

It caught me by surprise. I had never really had the kinds of thoughts that flashed through my head then unbidden. They came one after the other.

The thought of her bending further to entice me.

Imagining her lifting her skirt.

I envisioned my own hands reaching slowly up under the skirt. Bunching the skirt up. Grasping the waist band of her panty hose and pulling it down to her knees.

Then returning and pulling her panties down too.

White panties.

Each of these ideas lanced thorough my loins. Wet sounds were coming from under my sheets.

My imagination ran wild and fast. The notion of the nurse's hose and knickers now bundled at the top of her calves. Her big ass cheeks jutting out, round and brown. Naked. Swaying side to side. Her vulva peeking out from between her thighs. Her fat labia there on open view. Her prepuce bulging with what I imagined was her fat little clitoris peeking out at the end of her gash. Me swinging my hand to spank her on one of her fat buttocks.

Suddenly I clenched my teeth and I struggled not to grunt audibly and violently jerk my hips up and down. The denial of this freedom to act out loudly while all this was happening to me almost made the orgasm that washed over me at the moment even more intense. I lifted my hips, flashed my fingertips across my clitoris, froze my limbs into a rictus to keep from making springs squeak and held myself there, belly and leg muscles quivering and swallowing my groans of passion. I collapsed and essentially passed out as endorphins and pleasure flooded through me.

A huge orgasm.

I basically went unconscious at the end it was so intense.

I partially woke up later and the nurse was long gone.

Two things rushed into my consciousness.

The first was relief because my junk was apparently working again. My vagina had been really juicy and my clit super hard and throbbing away as I fingered it and the surrounding labia. Clearly my equipment check had been a resounding 'go!'

My second thought was that something weird was going on too. I was astonished at having what for me was the most intense and direct lesbian fantasy I had ever experienced. Other than an odd stray thought now and then over the previous twenty-six years of my life, I had never had any kind of serious lesbian thoughts for more than a minute or two at a time. Certainly not enough to bring on an orgasm of the caliber of the one I had just experienced. Juxtaposed next to that intense come, was how I had gone soft thinking of penis in my earlier tries at fantasy; it was disconcerting to say the least.

Something was going on with me. Naturally I wondered it if was associated with the operation. I got my answer almost immediately.

At that point, I had only five days left in my post-surgery hospital stay, and with doctor's encouragement I had been pushing myself to walk further and further each day. I decided to take a stroll. I started out headed for the cafeteria to get some eggs because I was a little hungry, but then I noticed this other thing.

As I walked, it took me a few minutes to acknowledge it, but I noticed that every woman had this glow that surrounded them. Like the girl last night, but dimmer somehow...probably daylight competing with it. I searched my vocabulary and suddenly found the word 'aura' buried in there. It fit. That was it. Each woman had a faint aura around them. It took me a few minutes to credit I was actually seeing it, but it finally penetrated my conk that it was really happening and to put together the thought that it was a limited phenomenon - women only. No men.

Men no aura. None.

All women with one.

Crazy!

It was just a really faint flicker around their edges, hard to see unless I looked half out of the side of my eyes and focused, but it was definitely there around the outline of them. Clear against whatever background they were against, especially darker ones, which explained why the girl's last night had been more intense in the darkness of the ward.

I rubbed my eyes repeatedly. No change. Aura still there.

After wandering and puzzling about it, I realized that the auras were actually not all the same. Some were different colors. I categorized them absently. Some green. In fact, most were greenish. The vast majority. Some were more yellowish. Others were more yellowy-red and a few were blazing red.

It was kind of freaking me out.

I realized after seeing some X-Rays that had clearly shown the splinter of steel in my head that the end of it, the point, had driven past the Putamen had ended up poked up a bit of that part of the hypothalamus right into my cerebellum. The doc had mentioned in passing that was pressing into the vision eye processing region of the brain. It clicked in my head that it might explain this aura thing. Some weird cross connection upstairs had been made somehow. Putamen material stretching up into the eye processing area of the brain or something.

It would have worried me, but I'd noticed something else too.

What struck me after I peered about after wandering aimlessly through hospital corridors trying to get my head around the basic phenomena, was this. There was this odd flash of insight in my head around the eyes of the women. The aura thing kind of penetrated into my own consciousness as not just framing the women, but was displaying slightly around their eyes too. As if I made suddenly hyperaware of their pupils and eye movement and could see them more clearly than I ever had before.

Two and two came together for me once I focused.

It took me a little time to figure what I was seeing.

Patterns emerged.

The green aura women would just walk right past me. Barely paying attention and not looking at me much though they would examine the men nearby. I could see their eyes following the men. With the yellow aura women though I would 'feel' their eyes tracking over both men and women pretty much the same way as they walked along -- including me. Some of them even tracked on me for several seconds. A compliment, I suppose. But the yellow-red and fully red women... they were a bit different. After a few passes in the corridor, I put it all together. Their eyes were intensely tracking me and every other woman nearby.

My big clue that fully jolted what was going on into my tired and spinning little brain came when one of these women staring types had walked past me, checked me out very carefully, but she was wearing a necklace with an interlinked pair of symbols for Venus. A lesbian declaration.

I am not a complete idiot. It came to me and confirmed itself as I looked around for five more minutes.

Some kind of 'gaydar' had sprung to life in me, undoubtedly because of that thing that went into my head. I could tell the yellow auras were bisexual chicks or some variant of that and the dead-on lesbians were the red. Green, of course were full on straight women.

Hokey smokes!

So, I the amateur scientist in me kicked in. I started looking harder at the actual women involved and mentally calculating. Categorizing I guess you could call it. I got interested as if it was a weird personal science project.

About thirty precent of the females red aura women had mannerisms or physical characteristics that I might put together in my head as 'gay' anyway, without my new spider sense. Make that 'obviously gay.' Some were even 'super' gay.

What it was, they had already differentiated themselves. They wore their hair a certain way, often short, several with lots of icky gel or mouse in it. I suppose you might say they were often 'mannish,' though a couple had shaved one side of their head or some other oddity rather than shorten everything and 'mannish' had nothing to do with bust size or anything.

That whole group I mentally pegged as Bois. Tom boys. That kind of thing. Often, though not always, their body type was lean. Even more obviously, they very often had covered their hides in a wide variety of ugly crappy tats too; consciously or unconsciously trying to separate themselves from any 'fem' stuff, and presumably men, with all that shittily overdone ink.

In addition, a solid majority of these also tended to sport some silly spread of metal studs and rings in every bit of loose flesh they could find - ears, cheeks, noses and lips. I did not want to know what their belly-buttons, nipples and labia looked like. Probably resembled a chain link fence or something under their clothes. I did not begrudge them ruining their essential good looks. I was just surprised when I found I thought that their appearances were a shame. It was clear to me that they had uglied themselves up purposefully. All the tats and metals objects were so clearly an attempt to visibly scar themselves. Ruin any pristineness in their skin canvas by opting instead to make themselves into an unequivocal mobile lesbo bad Banksi billboard that presumably displayed in the same way peacock feathers fan out as they strutted around. It kind of worked in its weird way. The message was, 'we are studs.' A handful of these were clearly all-in too. Not just doing the advertising, but visibly they had totally embraced their lesbianism and were visibly acting not-shy either. I was watching a lot of gal's eyes by then, and some of these super dyky thirty percenters tended to look straight at you, scan up and down your body, checking you out without hesitation. Openly licentious. More obviously hounds than most men.

I got it.

Every look from them was an inquiry. A kind of challenge. Hoping to discover your own interest reflected back in an answering look and therefore catch your gayness reflected so they could peg you as a potential partner. A numbers game when your sexuality revolves around only five percent of the population.

The poor things did not have my new gaydar and used these techniques in its place instead.

I could respect that, though for some reason, I found most of them oddly unattractive. Off-putting somehow.

Maybe, an extra five percent of the women in that hospital were on the edge of that kind of commitment. They had tattoos too, thought more subtle ones. Peeking out of their clothes at a wrist, or ankle or glimpsed at the neckline of their blouse. Suggesting there was more going on under their clothes. I thought of these as not completely committed to a Tom identity, but looking around and thinking of going the whole hog the way some of their boi-sisters had. They would boi-up sometime in the future.

So maybe thirty percent of my Red aura women fell into this bunch that I mentally labeled, for no real reason, as 'strap-on lovers.' Which wasn't fair, but I just imagined they were overtly more male like in their behaviors... thus the penis imagery. It wasn't, of course, fair to males either -- just where my head went as I tried to absorb the implications of my new super power.

After five minutes, it was the rest of the 'gaydar' twinges that actually snuck up and surprised me though. The bulk of them. Strangely, the clear majority of the women who were coming up red or yellow-red in my new vision were quite feminine looking. Almost seventy percent. Honestly, you could rarely tell them from the green auras all around them, except that now and then those eyes of theirs would linger on a woman's ass a bit too long or openly admire someone's bustline when glancing around from the side... before they carefully looked away.

I figured at least some of them, even many, were closeted still. The rest just discreet.

Here's the thing though -- my super power had affected my libido. I was finding myself attracted to several of them. They just excited me somehow. Apparently, my putamen enhanced eyeballs like fem looking women over studs.

They say that power corrupts. I walked to the end of the hospital thinking about it. Then all the way back to the other end. Twice. Three times. By the end of those walks, I made the biggest discovery.

This new power of mine had somehow corrupted me too. The ability to see all these women checking out other women had somehow translated itself into my head and heart. I started looking the women over myself. Checking out their lips. Their hair. The line of their throats. The curve of their breasts. The bulge of their mons through their yoga pants.

Don't get me started on their asses.

After last night's finger play and about two hours wandering the halls, heat had just somehow seeped right into my loins. I was really hot now. Horny. I knew my clitoris was half stood up and I could literally feel my swollen labia crowding the crotch of my panties.

Not for any men.

For the women!

I started fantasizing a bit.