Peeping through the keyhole, I watch my wife, her eyes closed, lost in her own world. She's found a hidden folder on my laptop, images of her fetish laid bare. Her breath hitches as she strokes her thighs, the fabric of her skirt rustling. She's always been so coy, but here, alone, she's uninhibited. Her fingers trail up her inner thigh, pushing aside her panties, and I catch a glimpse of her wetness. She's never been this bold, this wanton. I can't help but wonder what else she's hiding.