Her Instagram was a carefully curated showcase of shadows and suggestion, her Twitter a playground of innuendo. I was hooked, reeling in her every word, every hint of flesh. She knew I was watching, waiting, wanting. Our exchange was a slow, sultry striptease, a game of cat and mouse that left me breathless and yearning for more. Each message was a whisper in my ear, a touch on my skin, a taste of her sweet, forbidden fruit.