In that moment she fascinated me. She was probably the most beautiful I had ever seen her. Her flushed features were soft, relaxed by a heat rolling through her. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling beneath the baggy t-shirt that offered a brief outline of her swollen, erect nipples atop her full breasts.

I wasn't surprised to see she wasn't wearing a bra.

What did surprise me was what I did.

In that instant, looking at my beautiful wife standing upon the threshold of arousal, I made a rash decision.

A very . . . rash . . . decision.

I'd read wife-watching stories. I'd watched MFM...