The room was alive with conversation, a constant hum of voices and laughter. We had gathered at a friend’s house for dinner, and the atmosphere was relaxed, everyone at ease with one another. I was sitting next to an old friend and his wife, both of whom I had known for years. We had shared countless dinners like this, but tonight, something felt different.

I noticed the change the moment I caught him looking at me. It wasn’t a casual glance — it was deliberate, intense. And when his hand brushed against my leg under the table, I knew this night was going to be unlike any other.

At first, I thought it was an accident, but as his hand lingered, I realized it wasn’t. My heart raced as his fingers crept higher, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His wife sat just inches away, completely unaware of the silent exchange happening right beside her.

There was something exhilarating about it, the danger, the secrecy. I knew I should have stopped him, should have pulled away. But instead, I found myself drawn deeper into the moment, intoxicated by the thrill of it all.