It was unusual for my wife to be sitting here instead of the living room downstairs. “I want to be her,” my wife said, motioning to the screen of...her laptop. I frowned a little as I took off my coat. This was an unusual statement for my wife to make, as she is very attractive and doesn’t normally have an image crisis over seeing a pretty woman online. “What do you mean, sweetie?” I quizzed. She said nothing whilst tilting her head towards the screen once more. I cast my gaze to her laptop. But standing there dressed like she was, with her long black hair unbrushed and falling in a wild mane around her face, she seemed anything but average.We were dancing together, but not really dancing, just kind of moving close. I was wearing that same red t-shirt I'd worn all day, and I'd put my hipsters back on, soft sort of imitation suede pants that stretched around my hips, really clinging tight to my body. They showed off my ass nice, I thought, and my long legs."Hey, do you remember last. More

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