A Revealing Moment

(Note to readers: This tiny item is doing double duty, in both the Pink Orchid 2023 for Women-Centric Erotica Challenge and the 750 Word Project 2023. I don't want to go into detail here, but if you think you might be triggered, please check the tags before reading. The text of the story is exactly 750 words [in MS Word]. The total wordage, calculated by Literotica, includes this note.)

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She hugged him hard, driving her hands between his shoulder blades and the sheet, while she felt his fingers release the hooks of her bra. This was it, the moment when a makeout progressed into her notion of sex, the exposure to a man's eyes of a part of her body that was never visible in public.

There had been so many dates that had reached this point, when she was young. Back then, her worries were about disrespect and slut-shaming.

This was very, very different.

The lacy fabric crinkled between their chests. She gasped, feeling his fingers organize, and lift strap loops to her shoulders. All that remained was for her to relax her grip, lift her torso from his, and reveal her breasts to him.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Then let's stop," he said.

"No. I have to do this. I want to."

The fingers she could not see stroked her neck slowly, gently.

He asked, "What should I do?"

"I'll tell you. Watch. Be honest."

She moved each arm to escape from the straps that he held.

She set her palms on the bedspread, on either side of his chest.

Her eyes closed.

She flexed her arms, and gradually straightened her elbows. Cool air reached her sternum, and the skin to either side.

She stopped moving. She forced out three words: "Please touch them."

First, the unseen fingers went only to smooth skin. They exerted slight pressure on soft surfaces that yielded.

Before she could tell him to get it over with, the fingers touched scars.

The touch was gentle, yet firm. No hesitation. A steady connection.

"Tell me," she said, close to a sob.

"I see, I feel, you," he said, voice cracking. "The whole you, greater than the sum of the parts."

Despite his words, or because of them, she felt on the brink of crashing into despair.

But then, a shiver traveled through her, interrupting her mood.

"This...feels nice."

He said nothing.

"Is this--that ASMR thing?" she wondered. At the back of her neck there was a pleasant tingle, a calming warmth.

She opened her eyes, and said, "Your fingers touch me like always. But now I'm different there. I'm...new?"

He swallowed.

She saw something familiar, from the angle and height of his eyebrows.

A smile tugged up her lip. She set her knees so she could free her hands, and slid one hand past his navel, onto his jeans.

She didn't want to giggle. The moment seemed wrong for that. She said, "Ah. That's how you feel."

"Please, I can't help it, it's been so long since I touched you--"

"You ought to be--" she began, but a laugh burst through. "--ashamed of yourself!"

"I am!" he said, but her laugh infected him. He snorted as he tried to stifle it.

She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, much faster than he had undone her bra. "Ass up, damnit! Skinny bastard!"

He complied. She yanked the jeans and boxers down past his knees.

She swatted his perpendicular erection, and got the usual, same old result: It waved like a metronome. "Yayyy!" she cheered.

She flopped down beside him, grabbed for another hug, and kissed sloppy. This shredded the last of his reserve, and he laughed along with her.

Soon she calmed. "I think I needed this, more than the tender moment." She nuzzled his stubbled cheek. "I thought I'd no longer be a whole woman, even if we paid for reconstruction. I'd never given that a thought, before the diagnosis. Since then, I haven't even considered this part of it: That the proper role for sex, in our lives, has always been fun."

He gave her as straight a face as he could muster. "I did everything I could to be sensitive and supportive."

"You did pretty well," she said, "although unhooking a bra obviously unleashed the horndog."

Then she gritted her teeth, wincing.

"You okay?" he asked urgently.

"Wouldn't say okay," she wheezed, "but new-normal. It's the chemo. I'm afraid that postpones big fun."

"Not a problem, I'll--"

"I'll manage something," she said, shifting down his body. "Just show your appreciation. I'll take my fun where I can find it, like from seeing your crossed eyes."

She mock-consoled his penis. "You poor thing, you'll never again be squeezed between my titties. We'll just have to find some other way to make you happy."

Then she licked lavishly around the glans, converged her lips on it, and engulfed him.