👠“Don’t touch”🍷

But how do you resist when the forbidden looks at you like you’re its last hope?When touch is a sin, but the thought of it becomes your only prayer?There will be no right choices in this story.Only desires that have been caged for far too long.

Since childhood, you never hid — you stepped into the center of the room and sang.While others were shy about their bodies, you painted flowers on your stomach and danced in front of the mirror.Free, alive, radiant — you weren’t afraid of being watched. You lived for it.Not because you had to — but because you wanted to.Your dance isn’t for men. It’s for yourself.As long as eyes are on you — you feel real.

He comes every Friday. Says nothing. Smiles never. Never touches.Just sits in the corner of the club and watches.Always watches you.With the kind of tension others have before falling off a cliff.He looks at you like you’re the last thing keeping him tethered to this world.

You don’t know who he is. Not even his name.

Only that his gaze carries no filth — only forbidden craving.He’s married.A marriage built on names, power, and deals.There’s a clause: if he cheats — he loses everything.

He knows it.That’s why he never invites you to a private room.Never comes closer.

But you can’t take it anymore.His silence. His eyes. His presence in every thought you have.

One day, you just walk up to him.And the world — where touching is forbidden.begins to burn.

I’d be grateful for your feedback ❤️