Faris and Kayla had known each other for years, their friendship blossoming despite their feisty natures. They often met with their spouses, engaging in lively debates that reflected their deep affection. Beneath their witty banter simmered a powerful mutual attraction—a magnetic pull they felt but never acted upon. Coming from conservative Eastern backgrounds, cheating was unthinkable. Yet, the glances they exchanged hinted at a longing that refused to be ignored.
Their conversations sometimes veered into charged territory, thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. There was an unspoken understanding: flirtation had limits. Kayla, with her commanding presence, wasn’t narcissistic, but she loved being seen—a trait that intrigued Faris. He found her vibrant, unapologetic spirit alluring.
Two incidents shifted their dynamic. The first occurred when Faris was home, stressed. Kayla called: “I don’t want to eat dinner alone,” she said, informing him she was coming over with a packed meal. It was typical Kayla—craving company and taking it.
She arrived in jeans, a blazer, and a white blouse with more buttons undone than usual. She plopped down beside him and began ranting about work. As she spoke, her blouse opened slightly, revealing a purple bra and the soft curve of her breast. Faris tried to focus, but his gaze betrayed him. A few gestures later, the blouse shifted, giving him a fuller view. His upbringing kicked in. He pointed to his own chest. “That’s showing… which is nice, but maybe sit differently?” he said awkwardly. Kayla glanced down and casually adjusted her blouse. The moment passed, but Faris wondered—had she known what she was doing?
A storm raged inside him. For a moment, he imagined ripping her blouse open, giving in to the desire that had haunted him. But he stayed silent. Sensing the tension, Kayla gathered her things. As she left, Faris’s eyes lingered on her swaying hips. That night, she texted: “What was up with you tonight?” He typed, “You were turning me on like crazy,” but deleted it, sending instead, “Sorry, tough day at work.” The moment ended, but something had shifted.
Months later, Kayla invited Faris and his wife for drinks. Her husband was away, and Faris’s wife encouraged him to go alone. Enough time had passed since the blouse incident that he expected nothing unusual.
Faris hadn’t brought drinks, but Kayla was prepared. “Oh good, I need a drink,” she said. He chose white wine. As the night wore on and wine flowed, Kayla’s tone grew softer. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you,” she said.
She looked up. “You always say you didn’t date much in your twenties. But I don’t buy it. You must’ve had women in your bed.” Faris exhaled. “Some truth to that. But not many. I’ve always been drawn to specific women—women I’ve known a long time.”
Kayla raised an eyebrow. “So no one-night stands?” He shook his head. “Never appealed to me. For me, the most exciting thing is when a longtime friend does… certain things.”
“Like what?” she asked, teasing. Faris chuckled. “Sensual, innocent things. It starts with the woman setting up a situation where, by accident, I see her naked.”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “Do you know what ‘plausible deniability’ means?” he asked. She nodded. “Roughly.”
Faris leaned in. “It’s when you want something forbidden, but you arrange things so no one’s to blame. If the woman lets herself be seen, but not overtly, it’s a ‘happy accident.’ Neither person breaks the rules.”
Kayla frowned, then nodded. “So she creates a setup, but pretends not to know if it’s seen?” He smiled. “Exactly.”
She tilted her head. “And this happened to you?” He nodded. “One girl, years ago. She had a boyfriend. She invited me over and dropped a code phrase: ‘I need to freshen up, make yourself comfortable.’ That meant what followed was okay.”
Kayla blinked but didn’t interrupt. “Then I’d wait a few minutes. I’d notice a bathroom door left slightly ajar. A mirror would reflect everything—without her seeing me. If I looked, I looked.” A silence settled. Kayla licked her lower lip unconsciously. “So she put on a show, knowing you might watch?” Faris nodded. “I’m assuming you went through with it,” she said. He shook his head. “No. I wanted to. But it was complicated. I couldn’t.”
Kayla looked frustrated. “Why not?” “You know why.” She nodded, but pushed. “Didn’t you want to break the rules? Just once?” Faris’s eyes darkened. “I would’ve loved to. Maybe I should have.”
More wine followed. Kayla tried to steer the conversation back to his “wasted” 20s, but a line had been crossed. At one point, Faris commented, “Your sister Huma is stunning.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she’s the pretty one.” Faris disagreed. “You all are. But Huma’s… different.” Kayla hesitated, then added, “Actually, I’m jealous of her rack.” Faris nearly choked. “She has a great one,” Kayla continued, glancing down. “I wish I had hers.”
Faris seized the moment. “You have nothing to worry about,” he said. “From what I can tell.” He paused. “Of course, I’ve never seen yours… properly.”Kayla’s eyes locked onto his. She stretched back on the couch, her blouse pulling tight. “Maybe one day you’ll get a better look,” she said softly. “If the situation’s right… who knows what might happen
.
Their conversations sometimes veered into charged territory, thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. There was an unspoken understanding: flirtation had limits. Kayla, with her commanding presence, wasn’t narcissistic, but she loved being seen—a trait that intrigued Faris. He found her vibrant, unapologetic spirit alluring.
Two incidents shifted their dynamic. The first occurred when Faris was home, stressed. Kayla called: “I don’t want to eat dinner alone,” she said, informing him she was coming over with a packed meal. It was typical Kayla—craving company and taking it.
She arrived in jeans, a blazer, and a white blouse with more buttons undone than usual. She plopped down beside him and began ranting about work. As she spoke, her blouse opened slightly, revealing a purple bra and the soft curve of her breast. Faris tried to focus, but his gaze betrayed him. A few gestures later, the blouse shifted, giving him a fuller view. His upbringing kicked in. He pointed to his own chest. “That’s showing… which is nice, but maybe sit differently?” he said awkwardly. Kayla glanced down and casually adjusted her blouse. The moment passed, but Faris wondered—had she known what she was doing?
A storm raged inside him. For a moment, he imagined ripping her blouse open, giving in to the desire that had haunted him. But he stayed silent. Sensing the tension, Kayla gathered her things. As she left, Faris’s eyes lingered on her swaying hips. That night, she texted: “What was up with you tonight?” He typed, “You were turning me on like crazy,” but deleted it, sending instead, “Sorry, tough day at work.” The moment ended, but something had shifted.
Months later, Kayla invited Faris and his wife for drinks. Her husband was away, and Faris’s wife encouraged him to go alone. Enough time had passed since the blouse incident that he expected nothing unusual.
Faris hadn’t brought drinks, but Kayla was prepared. “Oh good, I need a drink,” she said. He chose white wine. As the night wore on and wine flowed, Kayla’s tone grew softer. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you,” she said.
She looked up. “You always say you didn’t date much in your twenties. But I don’t buy it. You must’ve had women in your bed.” Faris exhaled. “Some truth to that. But not many. I’ve always been drawn to specific women—women I’ve known a long time.”
Kayla raised an eyebrow. “So no one-night stands?” He shook his head. “Never appealed to me. For me, the most exciting thing is when a longtime friend does… certain things.”
“Like what?” she asked, teasing. Faris chuckled. “Sensual, innocent things. It starts with the woman setting up a situation where, by accident, I see her naked.”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “Do you know what ‘plausible deniability’ means?” he asked. She nodded. “Roughly.”
Faris leaned in. “It’s when you want something forbidden, but you arrange things so no one’s to blame. If the woman lets herself be seen, but not overtly, it’s a ‘happy accident.’ Neither person breaks the rules.”
Kayla frowned, then nodded. “So she creates a setup, but pretends not to know if it’s seen?” He smiled. “Exactly.”
She tilted her head. “And this happened to you?” He nodded. “One girl, years ago. She had a boyfriend. She invited me over and dropped a code phrase: ‘I need to freshen up, make yourself comfortable.’ That meant what followed was okay.”
Kayla blinked but didn’t interrupt. “Then I’d wait a few minutes. I’d notice a bathroom door left slightly ajar. A mirror would reflect everything—without her seeing me. If I looked, I looked.” A silence settled. Kayla licked her lower lip unconsciously. “So she put on a show, knowing you might watch?” Faris nodded. “I’m assuming you went through with it,” she said. He shook his head. “No. I wanted to. But it was complicated. I couldn’t.”
Kayla looked frustrated. “Why not?” “You know why.” She nodded, but pushed. “Didn’t you want to break the rules? Just once?” Faris’s eyes darkened. “I would’ve loved to. Maybe I should have.”
More wine followed. Kayla tried to steer the conversation back to his “wasted” 20s, but a line had been crossed. At one point, Faris commented, “Your sister Huma is stunning.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she’s the pretty one.” Faris disagreed. “You all are. But Huma’s… different.” Kayla hesitated, then added, “Actually, I’m jealous of her rack.” Faris nearly choked. “She has a great one,” Kayla continued, glancing down. “I wish I had hers.”
Faris seized the moment. “You have nothing to worry about,” he said. “From what I can tell.” He paused. “Of course, I’ve never seen yours… properly.”Kayla’s eyes locked onto his. She stretched back on the couch, her blouse pulling tight. “Maybe one day you’ll get a better look,” she said softly. “If the situation’s right… who knows what might happen
.
