The restaurant buzzed with the low hum of conversations and the clink of wine glasses, its warm golden lights casting a soft glow over linen-draped tables laden with steaming dishes. Sanskriti slid into the booth beside Tom, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves as their parents settled across from them. The air was thick with the rich aroma of garlic and herbs from the nearby kitchen, a comforting contrast to the electric tension coiling in her belly. At twenty years old, Sanskriti exuded a confident sensuality, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and her fitted dress hugging the curves of her hips and breasts, drawing subtle glances that she relished. Tom, her husband of just a year, sat rigidly next to her, his broad shoulders tense under his shirt, his piercing blue eyes flicking toward her with a silent warning even as he exchanged pleasantries. "Wonderful to see you both," Tom's father boomed jovially, his voice cutting through the ambient noise as they perused the menus. "Let's start with the usual—appetizers for everyone?"

Sanskriti's mother chuckled warmly, her observant eyes crinkling at the corners as she suggested a round of shared plates, the conversation flowing into light-hearted banter about family vacations and old stories, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. But beneath the table, Sanskriti's hand drifted boldly to Tom's thigh, her fingers tracing the firm muscle through his pants, feeling the heat of his skin and the growing hardness that betrayed his own arousal. She bit her lip, a thrill of defiance surging through her as she ignored his initial sharp glance, her pulse quickening at the risk of discovery. Tom's jaw tightened, his authoritative presence radiating a quiet intensity that only fueled her desire; he leaned in slightly, whispering a low, "Not here," his breath warm against her ear, yet she persisted, her touch inching higher, brushing the bulge of his cock with deliberate subtlety. The contrast between the parents' easy laughter and the simmering heat between them heightened the forbidden allure, making Sanskriti's skin tingle with anticipation.

As the waiter arrived to take their orders—Sanskriti opting for a light salad to mask her inner turmoil—the playful teasing escalated, her foot sliding up Tom's calf under the guise of shifting in her seat. She could feel the wetness building between her thighs, a secret ache that made her bold, even as Tom's warnings grew more insistent, his fingers gripping her knee under the table in a possessive squeeze that sent a shiver down her spine. The game was just beginning, and with it, the delicious torment of their shared dynamic.

As the waiter whisked away their empty appetizer plates, the conversation around the table meandered into familiar territory, with Sanskriti's mother launching into a story about their last family reunion at the lake house, her voice animated and full of nostalgic warmth. "Remember that time we all got caught in the rain, Tom? You were just a boy then, splashing around without a care," she said, her eyes sparkling as Tom's father chuckled deeply, adding his own embellishments about burnt marshmallows and impromptu card games. The parents' oblivious chatter created a cocoon of normalcy, but to Sanskriti, it amplified the illicit thrill pulsing through her veins, her body hyper-aware of every brush of fabric and shift in the air. Under the table, her hand slid higher along Tom's thigh, her fingers now boldly tracing the outline of his hardening cock through the thin barrier of his pants, the heat radiating from him like a silent promise of retribution. She savored the forbidden rush, her pussy growing slicker with each forbidden stroke, the ache between her legs a delicious counterpoint to the mundane discussion unfolding above.

Tom's composure cracked ever so slightly, his knuckles whitening around his wine glass as he forced a tight smile and nodded at his father's tale, all while Sanskriti's teasing grew more insistent. Her foot, still encased in her silky heel, nudged against his ankle before sliding up his calf in a slow, deliberate caress, the friction sending sparks of desire straight to his core. He shot her a sidelong glance, his blue eyes darkening with a mix of fury and unbridled lust, his breath hitching as he mouthed a silent "Stop" that only made her pulse race faster. The dual sensations of her hand squeezing gently around his shaft and the risk of their parents noticing twisted his gut, his authoritative nature warring with the raw arousal flooding his body; he could feel the pre-cum dampening his boxers, his cock throbbing under her touch, yet he channeled his dominance into a firm squeeze of her wrist beneath the table, a warning that promised later punishment. Sanskriti met his gaze with a coy smirk, her nipples pebbling against the fabric of her dress, the emotional tug-of-war between them heightening the intimacy of their secret game.

By the time desserts arrived—light sorbets and rich chocolate tortes—the meal

Tease and Torment