Free Blooming by Peyton Fletcher

follow me. You
can’t go wrong I’ll like it whatever, I promise. Her tongue gently came out and
licked across his lips before he finished the sentence, surprised he latched on
and sucked it deep inside his mouth. They tangled back and forth, mouths open
and Todd’s breath grew choppier. He pulled at her bottom lip, thrust his tongue
in for a long sweep then pulled out and kissed her hard on her chin, following
behind with a long luxurious lick, which swirled down her throat to her
collarbone.
    Jen was
struggling to keep up with him, he felt hot and intense, and everywhere he touched
her she felt scorched with heat. Todd’s fingers made to pull her dress lower
again but Jen found her voice, “No, please no, I’m not comfortable with that
yet.”
    Todd’s hands
stilled, his thumbs slid down to rest on the underwire either side of her breasts,
and he tipped his forehead to hers as they breathed in tandem.
    “I promise
you it doesn’t bother me,” he said and dropped his lips to brush the scar
through the fabric of her dress, before letting his head rest along her neck
where his silky hair tickled her skin.”
    Jen squeezed
the muscles of his broad shoulders in wonder, and traced up the back of his
neck, causing him to sigh with pleasure.
    “I can’t
promise anything more tonight or even soon, I’m sorry.”
    Todd’s head
came up and he kissed her brow, her cheekbone, and the corner of her mouth,
softly licking inside. Then he pulled away, “Goodnight Jennifer.”
    He took a
step or two away and gave her a slow sexy smile that took what little breath
remained to her before he disappeared down the stairs.
    ****
    The next
morning Todd looked at Lily over the breakfast table, noting the top she wore
that showed a modest amount of cleavage.
    “Lily, can I
ask you something?”
    “Yes.”
    “If something
happened to you, an accident or an illness and you needed surgery that left a
scar here,” he said touching his sternum, “how would you feel about it?”
    She was quiet
for a long minute.
    “Hmm, that’s
tough to say, I would like to think that the first thing I’d feel is glad to be
alive, after that I don’t know,” she looked uncomfortable.
    “Does Jen
have a scar there?” she questioned, Todd nodded.
    “It’s not a
good area to have a scar Todd, the skin is so delicate there, generally the
chances of it being a raised keloid scar are higher and there’s not much can be
done after the fact, other than silicon type dressings to try and flatten it.
    “So how would
you feel?”
    “This area,”
she said touching her own chest, “the décolletage - think about it for a minute
Todd. It’s a very feminine area, a woman dresses to attract the attention to
it. We wear necklaces to make it look pretty. I think if I had a scar there and
it was very noticeable, I think it would ultimately affect the way I felt about
my femininity.
    I’ve seen
people with mastectomy scars and that is much more of a loss, but this thing is
a little similar. I wouldn’t feel as confident about myself if I had a scar
there, and If Jen hasn’t come to terms with this and is covering it up all the
time, well she probably struggles to find pretty clothes that aren’t too low. And
the more she wears bag lady clothes the crapper she feels about herself I’m
guessing.
     Even if she
felt braver and could show this scar off in strappy tops, every time she met
someone their eye would be naturally drawn there, it’s unavoidable. She’d
always have to explain how she got it, which if it’s from a traumatic incident,
well you can imagine?”
    Todd pondered
for a while - deep in thought. From a male point of view he had to admit that
if a man had a scar anywhere nobody thought twice about it. If anything it was
a badge of honour, women would find it sexy even. But he knew it would be
different for a woman, and the fact Jen’s scar didn’t bother him probably made
little difference to Jen’s feelings.
    “Did that
help any?”