I looked at my wife, seeing in her eyes a momentary glimpse of hope buried among a look that told me just how in love with me she truly was and how in lust with Michael she was as well.

I didn’t want to deny her anything.

“Yes,” I said, my voice working automatically, “I will be there as well. That sounds like a good idea.”

Their response was effusive, excitement bubbling between the two of them that I registered as if it was a fireworks display viewed through a telescope. I was watching the explosions without any of the thrill or bang, just bright lights and a torrent of confusion as I chased the trails of light before me and tried to process what was happening.

As I followed them up the stairs.

They walked in front of me, Mary leading the way and Michael behind her with just enough space so he could really watch her walk. His eyes were on her now, his obligation to me done and over now.

We moved to the spare room, Mary turning at the last moment to grab Michael by the front of his shirt and pull him into the room and against her body. She kissed him hard, her arms moving to wrap around the back of his neck as they kissed with the passion of long separated lovers and the excitement of newlyweds. They stumbled backwards with a giggle quickly silenced by the sounds of their lips pressed together, the shuffle of their clothing pressing against each other, the light moans and breathy whispers of their voices escaping through pursed and pressed lips.

I moved into the room as well, trying to remain as out of sight as I possibly could be while slipping into a chair in the corner of the room and watching with an appetite and attention that frankly surprised me.

God they looked good together, his hard strength matching perfectly against her soft and supple grace.

She had worn a dress tonight that on first glance had seemed to me a bit much for a casual dinner for three. It was dark and shiny, hugging her curves with the sort of casual slip that denoted an expensive and dear material.

But the darkness of the material matched perfectly with her skin, and the way it held her body showed off her curves without revealing too much. Still revealing oh so much, with the plunging neckline setting her breasts on full display and making it perfectly clear that her breasts were full and firm and perky.

Michael had gone casual by comparison. A long sleeved shirt cut of a cloth that seemed almost rough and jeans that looked worn and rugged. But not a stitch in shirt or pants was out of place, and ever faded bit of it showed that no expense had been spared.

They looked tailored to him, the shirt straining over his pecs and shoulders, the sleeves pushed up to showcase his tight and hard forearms. The jeans hugged his body as well, all of it revealing his body without showing too much or being too showy. Casual confidence projected over every inch of him.

Every inch of him that was now pressed against my wife.