Will you help?” my girlfriend asked softly, turning so the unfastened clasp of her bra was to me.
I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, the late afternoon light spilling through the tall windows and catching on the pale pink satin that barely covered her. Lila sat on the edge of our bed, her back to me, the long waves of her honey-blonde hair cascading down between her shoulder blades. A delicate braid twisted through the top like a crown, the rest loose and shining. The lingerie she’d chosen for tonight was obscene in its sweetness—pink, glossy, almost innocent if it weren’t for the way the thin straps framed her bare back and the sheer tulle peeking out from the waistband of the matching panties. Little satin ribbons dangled from the garter straps, swaying gently as she shifted. She looked like a gift someone else was about to unwrap.
My throat tightened. I knew exactly who that someone else was. Andrew. The guy she’d been texting for weeks. The one who wasn’t saving anything for marriage.
“Lila…” My voice came out rougher than I meant. “You really want me to—”
“Please, baby?” She glanced over her shoulder, those big blue eyes soft but steady. The unclasped bra hung loose, the delicate hooks glinting. “It’s tricky with the straps. I can’t reach.”
I crossed the room slowly, my bare feet silent on the whitewashed floorboards. The air smelled like her vanilla lotion and the faint floral of the perfume she’d already sprayed on her wrists. When I reached her, I could see the fine goosebumps on her skin, the gentle curve of her spine, the way the pink thong disappeared between the perfect rounds of her ass. My cock twitched hard in my jeans before I even touched her.
My fingers brushed the warm skin at the small of her back as I gathered the two sides of the bra. The clasp was tiny, fiddly. I had to lean in close, my breath stirring her hair.
“Like this?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“Mmm-hmm. Just hook it. There you go.”
The snap of the clasp sounded final. The bra tightened, lifting her breasts into the cups, though I couldn’t see the front from here. I let my hands linger a second too long on her shoulder blades, feeling the heat of her.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She didn’t pull away. Instead she reached back and caught my wrist, guiding my hand down to the tulle panel just above her panties. “These little ribbons… they’re supposed to tie in bows. Can you do them for me? Pretty please?”
I swallowed. “Lila, this is for him. You’re getting dressed for him.”
“I know.” Her voice stayed gentle, almost soothing. “That’s why I want you to help. I want you to see how pretty I look. For him.”
My stomach twisted with jealousy so sharp it hurt, but my dick was already straining against my zipper. She knew it. She always knew.
I knelt behind her on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. My hands shook slightly as I took the first satin ribbon—thin, glossy pink—and threaded it through the little loop on the garter strap. The tulle was soft against my knuckles, the kind of fabric that would feel incredible under someone’s palms later tonight. Andrew’s palms.
“You’re really going to fuck him, aren’t you?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Lila let out a soft, breathy laugh. “We talked about this, remember? You’re the one who said it was okay.”
“I know what I said.” I tied the first bow, tight and perfect, then moved to the next ribbon. My voice dropped. “But seeing you like this… in this lingerie… it’s different.”
She shifted, arching her back just enough to make the garter straps pull taut. “Different how?”
“Different because you’ve never worn anything like this for me.” My fingers brushed the bare curve of her ass cheek as I reached for the third ribbon. “Because I know exactly what’s going to happen when you walk out that door. You’re going to let him peel this off you. You’re going to let him touch you everywhere I’ve never been allowed to.”
Her head tilted back slightly. I could see the satisfied little smile on her lips in profile. “And that turns you on, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t answer right away. I finished the last bow, then sat back on my heels, staring at the finished picture. The pink lingerie hugged her like it was made for her body—high-cut panties that framed her ass perfectly, the garter belt sitting low on her hips, the thin straps framing everything. She looked expensive. She looked ready.
“Tell me,” she said, turning her upper body just enough to meet my eyes. The movement made her breasts shift in the bra cups. “Say it out loud, baby. What did we agree to?”
I exhaled shakily. My hands were still resting on her hips, thumbs tracing the satin. “You… you weren’t a virgin when we met. I was. And we decided we’d save me for our wedding night. But you… you could keep having sex. With other people. If you needed it.”
“Mmm. And why did we decide that?” She reached back and covered one of my hands with hers, pressing it firmer against her hip.
“Because you said you had needs. Strong needs. And you didn’t want to pressure me into breaking our promise to wait.” My voice cracked. “Because I love you and I want to give you everything, even if it means… this.”
She turned fully then, still sitting on the edge of the bed, knees together, but now facing me. The front of the lingerie was even prettier than I’d imagined—delicate lace edging the bra cups, a tiny satin bow between her breasts, the same sheer tulle panel across the front of the panties that did nothing to hide the smooth mound beneath. Her nipples were hard little points pressing against the satin.
“And right now,” she said softly, “you’re torn, aren’t you? Jealous as hell. But also so hard you can barely think straight.”
I looked down at the obvious bulge in my jeans. There was no point lying. “Yeah.”
“Good boy.” She smiled, reaching up to cup my cheek. Her thumb brushed my lower lip. “I love that about you. You’re honest with me even when it hurts. Now help me with the stockings, okay? They’re on the chair.”
I stood up on shaky legs and crossed to the wicker peacock chair in the corner. A pair of sheer pink stockings lay draped over the arm, still in their package. I tore it open and brought them back. Lila lifted one foot, pointing her toes like a dancer. I knelt again, rolling the first stocking up her calf, over her knee, smoothing it inch by inch up her thigh until my fingers reached the little clip on the garter strap.
“Fasten it for me,” she whispered, “please.”
The ‘please’ broke me. I attached the metal fastener snapped into place with a tiny click. Then the other leg. My hands were all over her smooth skin now, adjusting the stockings so were perfectly adjusted on her leg. As my fingers danced on the nylon, every touch felt like fire.
“Tell me more about the agreement,” she said while I worked. Her voice was low, coaxing. “I want to hear you say the parts that make you ache the most.”
I swallowed hard. “We agreed that you could date. That you could…be with other men. That you wouldn’t have to wait like I do. Because you already know what it feels like…and I don’t.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She lifted her other foot for the second stocking. “And what else? Be specific, baby. I love hearing you say it.”
I clipped the second garter. My voice was hoarse. “And that when you come home from those dates, you’ll tell me everything. Every detail. How he touched you. How he fucked you. How much better it felt because he wasn’t holding back like I have to.”
Her eyes sparkled with heat. “Yes. And you love hearing it, don’t you? Even though it makes you so jealous you can’t sleep sometimes.”
I nodded, unable to deny it. My cock was throbbing so hard it hurt.
She stood up slowly, turning so I could see the full effect from every angle. The stockings made her legs look endless. The garter straps framed her ass like an invitation. The pink satin glowed against her skin.
“Andrew is going to lose his mind when he sees me like this,” she said conversationally, walking over to the full-length mirror by the old white armoire. She smoothed her hands down her hips, admiring herself. “He already texted me that he booked the hotel room with the big balcony. The one with the king bed and the mirrors on the ceiling.”
I stayed on my knees, watching her. “You’re really going to sleep with him tonight?”
She met my eyes in the mirror. “Yes. All night. Probably more than once. He’s very…enthusiastic. And he doesn’t have any rules about waiting.”
The jealousy burned hotter, but so did the arousal. I could feel pre-cum soaking into my boxers.
“Come here,” she said gently. “Help me choose the dress. There are two options on the bed.”
I rose and looked. One was a short, slinky cocktail dress. The other was a soft cream-colored slip dress that would probably cling to every curve and show the faint outline of the garters if she moved just right.
“Which one do you think he’ll like better?” she asked, holding them both up against her body.
I pointed to the cream one. “That one. It’s… softer. Prettier. It’ll look innocent until he takes it off.”
She smiled like I’d passed a test. “Good choice. Put it on me, then.”
I took the dress from her hands. She lifted her arms. I slid the silky fabric down over her head, careful not to snag it on the bra straps. The hem settled high on her thighs, the thin material draping over the lingerie like a second skin. You could just barely see the faint shadow of the pink garter belt underneath if you knew where to look.
I stepped back. She looked devastating.
“Perfect,” she whispered, turning in a slow circle. “Now tell me again—why are you helping me get ready for another man?”
I stared at her, heart hammering. “Because I love you. Because we agreed. Because you need this…and I need to be the one who gives it to you. Even when it kills me.”
Her expression softened with real affection. She stepped close, pressing her body against mine for just a moment. I could feel the heat of her through the thin dress, the hard points of her nipples, the way her hips fit perfectly against my aching cock.
“You’re so good to me,” she murmured against my ear, the heat from her breath pulling me to her. “I’m going to think about you the whole time he’s inside me. I’m going to remember how hard you were while you hooked my bra and clipped my stockings. And when I come home tomorrow morning, sore and satisfied, I’m going to climb into bed with you and tell you every single thing he did to me. Every thrust. Every time he made me moan his name instead of yours.”
I groaned softly, my hands fisting at my sides so I wouldn’t grab her.
She kissed my cheek, light and sweet. “Thank you for helping me get dressed, baby. I feel so pretty now.”
Then she stepped back, picked up her little clutch, and slipped on her heels. The click of them on the floorboards sounded like the start of something I couldn’t stop.
At the doorway she paused, looking back at me one last time. “I love you. Remember that when you’re lying here alone tonight, touching yourself and thinking about me on my back with my legs wrapped around him.”
I sank down onto the bed where she’d been sitting, the sheets still warm from her body. The faint scent of her perfume clung to the air. My hands still tingled from touching all that pink satin and soft skin.
I reached down and freed my aching cock from my jeans, wrapping my fist around it. It was already slick. I closed my eyes and pictured her in that cream dress, walking into the hotel room, letting Andrew peel it off her slowly. Pictured his hands on the lingerie I’d just helped her into. Pictured the sounds she’d make when he finally pushed inside her—sounds I’d never heard from her myself because I was still waiting.
I stroked myself slowly, the jealousy and the love and the raw lust twisting together until I couldn’t tell them apart.
And tonight, like every night she went out like this, I was going to keep it.
Even if it made me come harder than I ever had in my life.
I whispered her name into the empty room as I started to stroke faster.
The night was just beginning.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my hand still moving in slow, deliberate strokes. The image of her in that lingerie wouldn’t leave me. Every detail I’d helped perfect—the way the pink straps crossed her back, the little bows I’d tied at her hips, the way the stockings whispered against her thighs when she walked—played on repeat in my mind.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Lila already.
“Just got in the car. Thinking about your hands on me while you dressed me. You were so gentle. Andrew won’t be. ”
I groaned out loud and squeezed my cock harder. Another message followed almost immediately.
“Tell me you’re touching yourself right now. Be honest.”
I typed back with my free hand, thumb clumsy.
“Yes. Can’t stop thinking about you in that lingerie.”
I watched the three dots as she composed a text.
“Good boy. Remember our agreement? Say it back to me in a voice note. I want to hear you while I’m on the way to him.”
I hit record, my voice low and ragged.
“We agreed… that you can keep having sex because you weren’t a virgin when we met. That I would stay one until our wedding night. That I would help you get ready for your dates. That I would listen to every detail afterward. That I would love you more for it… even when it makes me jealous enough to lose my mind.”
Her reply was instant: a voice note of her own. I played it, her soft, aroused voice filling the room.
“Mmm, that’s my good boy. I’m so wet already just from hearing you say it. Andrew is going to slide his fingers up under that dress in the car and feel how soaked my pretty pink panties are…the ones you helped me into. I love you for this. I really do.”
I came hard at the sound of her words, spilling over my fist with a choked moan. But even after the orgasm, the ache didn’t fade. It only settled deeper.
An hour later, another text.
“At the hotel. He just saw the lingerie. His face…God, baby, you should see how hard he got. He said the pink makes me look like a virgin bride. I laughed and told him only one of us is saving anything.”
Then a photo—blurry, taken in a mirror. Lila in the cream dress, lifted just enough to show the tops of the stockings and the pink garter straps. Andrew’s hand was visible at her waist, possessive.
I stared at it until my vision blurred.
My cock was already stirring again.
I typed back. “You look perfect. Tell me when he takes it off.”
Her reply came twenty minutes later.
“He’s kissing my neck right now. Unhooking the bra you fastened. I’m going to moan loud enough that the neighbors hear. I’ll text you later. Love you.”
I spent the next three hours in a haze of jealousy and arousal, pacing the bedroom, lying on the sheets that still smelled like her, stroking myself slowly to edge after edge without letting myself finish again. I looked at the phone again and again, waiting for a text.
Finally, a text came at 2:17 a.m.
“Sorry, he was…wow. He came twice. I came three times. I’m sore and happy and sticky. Coming home soon. Save some of that jealousy for when I tell you everything in person. ”
But it wasn’t until dawn that I heard her key in the door.
She slipped into the bedroom quietly, the cream dress rumpled, her hair messy, lips slightly swollen. She still smelled like sex and hotel soap and him.
Without a word she crawled onto the bed, straddling my lap in the half-light. The dress rode up, showing the ruined pink lingerie—garter straps loose now, one bow untied, the satin panties visibly damp.
“Hi, baby,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss me softly. “Want to help me get undressed now?”
I nodded, hands already reaching for the hem of the dress.
“Tell me the agreement again while you do it,” she said, voice husky from the night she’d had. “Every word. And I’ll tell you every detail of how he fucked me in the lingerie you helped me put on.”
I started peeling the dress off her, my voice trembling as I recited our promise once more.
And she smiled, eyes heavy with satisfaction and love, ready to reward me with the story I both dreaded and craved.
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