Tighter (18+)

Promise

“I do,” Dennis answered, still pumping her gently.

Yvonne lifted her face, her gaze locking with the man who once held her heart in their college days. Propped up on one elbow, she slowly swept her hair aside and asked softly, “But… you love Helen more than you love me, don’t you?”

“Why?” Dennis asked, his voice low, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

“Please,” Yvonne whispered, voice trembling, “tell me you love Helen more. I don’t want to hurt my best friend’s heart.”

“You’re from my past,” Dennis said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “Slipped away because of my own foolishness. And Helen… she’s my present. My wife.”

“And?” Yvonne pressed gently, her eyes searching his.

“If I could have both of you,” Dennis continued, his voice low, full of longing, “I’d be in heaven.”

Yvonne let out a small laugh. “Me too.”

But her smile faded quickly. “But if Helen doesn’t agree,” she said, her voice suddenly sharp with clarity, “you’ll let me go… won’t you?”

Dennis gave a faint nod.

“Say it,” Yvonne whispered. “Say, ‘I promise.’”

“I promise,” Dennis repeated softly.

“Thanks.” Yvonne offered a sad little smile, then gently rested her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry, Yv.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Den,” she soothed. “What matters is… tonight, you’re mine.”

They both fell quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Dennis kept moving in a steady rhythm, his hand gliding along her spine—slick with sweat, yet tender in its touch.

Suddenly, Yvonne noticed the shift in his breathing—it had grown heavier, more urgent.

“You’re coming, aren’t you?” she asked, glancing up.

“Mhm,” Dennis murmured, confirming with a strained breath.

“May I come first?” she asked sweetly.

“Okay.”

“In that case…” Yvonne smiled with renewed energy, lifting her head and bracing herself on one elbow, and started to move her pelvis. “Let me take over.”

Dennis smiled, trying to match her rhythm.

“Just stay still!” Yvonne ordered, her breath already quick and uneven.

Dennis obeyed, going still beneath her.

Yvonne smiled through the growing urgency, moving with purpose—adjusting her angle now and then, chasing the perfect spot.

“I’m coming, Den…” She gasped a few moments later, her voice low and hoarse, breath hitching with every word.

“I’m here,” Dennis whispered gently. “Come for me, Yv.”

Yvonne clutched at Dennis’s chest, bracing herself for the rising wave she knew she could hold back. Her gaze flicked to a faint scratch mark across his skin, a mark she hadn’t meant to leave, but now that it was there, she didn’t regret it.

Helen would notice.

She knew.

But in that moment, Yvonne simply didn’t care.

Suddenly she remembered something. "Den!" she groaned with a hoarse voice, "You come in my mouth, okay!"

“Oh, okay!” Dennis exclaimed, surprised. “Why?”