Her slight hand was now trailing expressively along her leg, frictioning against the soft fur in the last nape of her legs. Her free hand continued to...shape me; she was leaning back now, her left foot up, resting on the arm of the blue sofa in which she reclined. I stood between her legs looking away from her, whimpering and occasionally turning to see what I could see. And when I did look back, I could see her smiling.The fragrance, which had first so stopped and startled me, now hung. .God. Tears slipped out. I had been so blind. I touched the scar on myleft breast with the palm of my hand, imagining it not there. But when Iremoved my fingers it had not vanished.The doctors, my friends, colleagues......the few people in the world Iwould bare myself to now.....had all said it was barely noticeable. Butit was so ugly. I was.......destroyed. The scar was the least of what hehad done......I trembled at the thought of him entering me, couldn'tcontrol my quaking body until the. More

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