Captain Tim Bodge and his wife Deniece stepped through the ornate entrance of The Nebula’s Edge, one of the most exclusive restaurants on the planet Veritas Prime. The establishment catered to wealthy traders, ship captains, and dignitaries from across the galaxy.

Tim wore his dress uniform— deep blue with silver captain’s insignia on the shoulders. At 6’2” with broad shoulders and a commanding presence, he drew respectful nods from other patrons. His black hair was neatly combed, his blue eyes taking in the elegant surroundings with military precision.

Beside him, Deniece looked stunning despite being four months pregnant. Her belly was just beginning to show a gentle curve beneath her form-fitting red dress— red was her best color, and she knew it. The dress hugged her 36C breasts and accentuated her tan skin. Her semi-black hair with white streaks cascaded over her shoulders, and her glossy red lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“It’s nice to get away from the ship for an evening,” Deniece said, her light blue eyes sparkling as she took Tim’s arm.

“Agreed,” Tim replied, his military bearing relaxing slightly. “The crew can handle things for one night. We deserve this.”

The maître d’ approached— a tall, thin humanoid with purple skin. “Captain Bodge, Mrs. Bodge, your table is ready. Right this way.”

They were led to a private booth overlooking the restaurant’s main floor and dance area. Below them, various species mingled - humans, aliens of all types, traders, diplomats, and travelers. Soft music played from a live band, and couples moved on the illuminated dance floor.

Tim and Deniece settled into their booth, and a server appeared almost immediately with menus and wine.

“Just water for me,” Deniece said, placing a hand on her small belly. “The baby.”

“Of course, ma’am,” the server said. “And for you, Captain?”

“Aldebaran whiskey, neat.”

Once the server left, Deniece leaned forward slightly, her breasts pressing against the table. She knew exactly what that did to Tim - saw his eyes flick down briefly before returning to her face.

“You’re teasing already,” Tim said with a slight smile.

“Maybe,” Deniece admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Since we’ve ... looked.”

The last time had been three months ago, before she started showing. A human trader on a space station who’d caught her eye. Tim had watched from across the bar as the man danced with her, touched her, eventually took her to his quarters while Tim followed and observed.

It had been intoxicating for both of them.

“Are you hoping for something tonight?” Tim asked carefully. “Or are we just here for dinner and dancing?”

Deniece’s lips curved into that knowing smile. “I don’t know yet. But if the right person catches my eye...” She paused. “Would you be okay with that? With me being pregnant?”

Tim felt the familiar stirring - not just arousal, but that deeper thrill that came from knowing his wife might be desired by another man. “If you want it, I want to watch it.”

“Even though I’m carrying your baby?”

“Especially because you’re carrying my baby,” Tim said, his voice low and intense. “You’re mine, Deniece. And watching another man want what’s mine, knowing he can have you but only because I allow it ... that’s the thrill.”

Deniece reached across the table and took Tim’s hand. “I love you for understanding this about me. About us.”

“I love you for being honest about what you want,” Tim replied. “Most couples hide these desires. We embrace them.”

Their drinks arrived, and they ordered dinner - exotic dishes from various worlds. As they ate, Deniece’s eyes occasionally drifted to the dance floor below, watching the couples move together.

“You’re already looking,” Tim observed with amusement.

“Can you blame me?” Deniece said. “Being pregnant has made me ... more aware. More sensitive. Everything feels more intense.” She shifted in her seat. “My breasts are more tender. My skin is more sensitive to touch. And I’m horny almost constantly.”

Tim’s cock stirred in his pants. The nanobots in his system, programmed to respond to female nudity, were already priming his body. But it was more than that - hearing his wife talk about her arousal, knowing she might act on it tonight with someone else while he watched, sent his desire into overdrive.

“Have you seen anyone interesting?” he asked.

Deniece’s gaze swept the room below. “Maybe. There’s a tall alien at the bar - pale skin, very large build. He keeps glancing up here.”

Tim followed her gaze and spotted the being she meant. The alien stood nearly seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and a powerful frame. His skin was pale gray, almost luminescent under the restaurant’s lights. He wore expensive clothing that marked him as wealthy or important.

“He’s been watching you since we arrived,” Tim said.

“I know,” Deniece said, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “He’s attractive. Different, but attractive. And the way he looks at me...” She bit her lip. “It’s not just lust. It’s ... appreciation. Like he sees something he wants and knows he could have it if he asks the right way.”

“Do you want him to ask?”

Deniece met Tim’s eyes. “Maybe. If the moment feels right.”

Deniece shook her head slightly, as if clearing her thoughts. “But not yet. Let’s just enjoy dinner first. Enjoy being together without thinking about ... possibilities.”

Tim nodded, understanding. “You’re right. We came here to have a nice evening. Everything else is just ... a bonus if it happens.”

“Exactly,” Deniece said, smiling. She picked up her fork and focused on her meal. “Tell me about the repairs on the aft engine. Did the crew finish the maintenance?”

They fell into comfortable conversation about the ship, the crew, David and Wendy’s studies. Deniece talked about a new trade route she was negotiating, and Tim discussed the planned system exploration for next week.

The food was excellent - Tim’s Centaurian steak was perfectly cooked, and Deniece’s seafood platter from the Andromeda sector was fresh and delicate. They took their time, savoring each course, occasionally sharing bites from each other’s plates.

As they ate, the restaurant filled up around them. The music grew slightly louder, more couples moving to the dance floor. The atmosphere shifted from quiet dining to evening entertainment.

Deniece finished her dessert - a sweet, crystalline confection that melted on the tongue - and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “That was perfect.”

“It was,” Tim agreed. He signaled for the check, which was quickly brought and settled.

As they prepared to leave, Deniece glanced down at the dance floor again. The pale alien was no longer at the bar. She scanned the room, wondering if he’d left.

“Looking for someone?” Tim asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Just curious,” Deniece said. Then she spotted him - he’d moved to a table near the dance floor, sitting alone with a drink, his eyes once again finding her in the upper booth. Their gazes met and held for a long moment.

“He’s still watching,” Tim observed.

“Yes,” Deniece breathed. “He is.”

“Do you want to go down to the dance floor?” Tim asked quietly.

Deniece hesitated, her hand moving unconsciously to her belly. “I’m pregnant. What if he’s not interested because of that?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Tim said, standing and offering his hand.

Deniece took it, her heart beginning to beat faster. They descended the stairs from their private booth to the main floor, weaving between tables. Tim guided her purposefully toward the area near the dance floor.

The pale alien watched their approach with interest, his dark eyes tracking Deniece’s movements.

Tim led her to an empty table directly adjacent to where the alien sat - close enough that they’d be in each other’s peripheral vision, close enough to exchange glances, but not so close as to be intrusive.

They sat down without acknowledging the stranger, though the proximity made the tension palpable. Tim ordered another whiskey. Deniece requested sparkling water.

From this angle, Deniece could see the alien more clearly. His features were strong and masculine, his pale skin smooth and unmarked. He had a powerful jaw and deep-set eyes that seemed to see everything. His hands, resting on the table, were large and broad - hands that could easily span her waist.

She felt a flutter of nervousness mixed with arousal. The alien was even more imposing up close, radiating a quiet dominance that both intimidated and attracted her.

Tim noticed her reaction and smiled slightly. He said nothing, just sipped his drink and waited, knowing that if anything was going to happen, it needed to unfold naturally.

The alien continued to watch Deniece, not staring rudely, but with clear appreciation. His gaze lingered on the curve of her belly, then rose to her breasts, finally settling on her face. A small smile played at his lips.

After a few minutes of sitting in charged silence, Deniece turned to face Tim. Her light blue eyes met his, and she spoke just loud enough for the alien at the next table to hear.

“Do you want to dance?” she asked, though there was something in her tone that suggested she already knew the answer. “I know your legs are weak.”

Tim gave her a wry smile. It was true - dancing had never been his strong suit. Years of military service had left him with old injuries that made prolonged dancing uncomfortable. “You know I’m not much of a dancer, love. My left knee isn’t what it used to be.”

“I know,” Deniece said softly, but there was a hint of disappointment in her voice. Calculated disappointment. She was performing now, creating an opening. “But the music is so nice, and I haven’t danced in months...”

“You should dance if you want to,” Tim said, playing his part perfectly. “Don’t let my bad knee stop you from enjoying yourself.”

Deniece glanced toward the dance floor, then back at Tim. “I can’t just go out there alone. That would look strange.”

“I’m sure someone would be happy to dance with a beautiful woman,” Tim said, his voice carrying just slightly. “You just have to be open to the possibility.”

The alien at the next table shifted slightly, clearly listening to their conversation. Deniece noticed the movement from the corner of her eye but didn’t look directly at him yet.

“I don’t know,” she said, her hand moving to her belly again. “I’m pregnant. Maybe no one would want to dance with me like this.”

Tim reached across and took her hand. “You’re beautiful, Deniece. The pregnancy makes you glow. Any man would be lucky to dance with you.”

He said it loud enough, clear enough. An invitation to the universe.

Now they waited to see if the pale alien would accept it.

The alien stood. His chair scraped back with a soft sound, and suddenly his full height was revealed - nearly seven feet of powerful, imposing presence. He moved with surprising grace for someone so large, stepping the short distance between tables.

Up close, Deniece could see more details. His pale gray skin had a subtle texture, almost like very fine scales. His eyes were deep black with flecks of silver, giving them an otherworldly quality. He wore a well-tailored suit that did nothing to hide his muscular build.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said, his voice deep and resonant with an accent Deniece couldn’t place. “But I couldn’t help but overhear.” He looked directly at Deniece. “I would be honored to dance with such a beautiful woman, if you would permit it.”

Then he turned to Tim, acknowledging him with a slight nod of respect. “With your permission, of course, Captain.”

Tim felt the familiar thrill run through him. This was it - the moment where fantasy became reality. He looked at Deniece and saw the flush in her cheeks, the quickening of her breath.

“That’s up to my wife,” Tim said calmly. “If she wants to dance with you, I have no objection.”

The alien’s attention returned to Deniece. “And you, lady? Would you grace me with a dance?”

Deniece’s heart pounded. She could feel the heat radiating from this massive being, could sense the controlled power in him. Her mouth went dry, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.

“I ... yes,” she managed. “I’d like that. But I should tell you - I’m four months pregnant. I don’t know if that matters to you.”

The alien’s smile widened slightly. “It does not matter. In my culture, pregnant women are considered especially beautiful. The glow of new life is sacred.” He extended his large hand toward her. “My name is Korvan. May I know yours?”

“Deniece,” she said, placing her smaller hand in his. His palm was warm, his fingers easily encircling her hand completely.

“Deniece,” he repeated, as if tasting her name. “A pleasure to meet you.” He helped her to her feet with surprising gentleness. “And you, Captain?”

“Tim Bodge,” Tim said.

Korvan nodded. “Captain Bodge. Thank you for sharing your wife’s company for a dance. I promise to take good care of her.”

There was something in the way he said it - “take good care of her” - that held layers of meaning. Tim caught it, and so did Deniece.

“I’m sure you will,” Tim said evenly.

Korvan offered Deniece his arm. “Shall we?”

Korvan led Deniece to the dance floor, his large hand still holding hers gently. The band was playing a slow, sensual melody - perfect for close dancing. Other couples moved around them in the dim, pulsing lights.

When they reached the center of the floor, Korvan turned to face her. The top of Deniece’s head barely reached his chest. He placed one massive hand on her waist, his fingers spanning nearly from her hip to her ribs. His other hand held hers, raised in the traditional dance position.

Deniece’s free hand settled on his broad shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath his suit. Up close, she could smell him - something exotic and masculine, with hints of spice.

They began to move. Korvan led with confident skill, guiding her through the steps despite their height difference. His movements were smooth and practiced, his body pressing close enough that she could feel his warmth.

At first, everything was proper. His hand on her waist stayed still, his grip on her hand gentle. They maintained the appropriate distance between their bodies. But as the song continued, things began to shift.

Korvan’s hand on her waist moved slightly lower, settling on her hip. His thumb began to stroke small circles against her dress, a subtle but deliberate touch. Deniece’s breath caught, but she didn’t pull away.