The dinner table was a lively place, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses as friends caught up with one another. I was sitting next to a couple I had known for years, their easygoing nature always a pleasure to be around. But tonight, I sensed something different. There was a tension in the air, a subtle but undeniable pull between us.

As the conversation flowed, I felt his hand under the table, resting lightly on my knee. My breath caught, and I stole a glance at him. He was looking straight ahead, engaged in a casual chat with someone across the table, but his fingers were slowly moving, inching higher.

His wife, unaware of the slow seduction happening mere inches away, continued to laugh and joke with our friends. I tried to keep my composure, to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary. But inside, my heart was racing. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of heat through my body.

Part of me wanted to push his hand away, to stop this before it went too far. But another part of me — the part that craved excitement and danger — wanted him to keep going. There was something thrilling about the fact that we were dancing on the edge of something forbidden, right under his wife’s nose.