Lynn glugged down some more wine, sucking it directly from the wide mouth of the jug. The rosy liquid dribbled out of her mouth as she drank, dripping...from her chin to her tits. She giggled as she carefully placed the jug back on the earthen floor. Her tits and belly were all sticky now with dried and drying wine. Some of the wine had even run down into her cunt-bush. She was beginning to smell like a wine bottle, but she didn't care. She imagined herself a whore-slave, a tramp. How disgusting. "I'm sorry ... even after three years ... I still can't talk abut him."I got up and brought the teapot to the coffee table and refilled our cups."You don't have to talk about any of this ... I was just being nosy."She smiled at me. It was a sad smile but how I loved her smile, especially when it was directed at me."I'm just not used to talking about my history. In these parts everyone knows everything about you. That's the way of small communities. That's not necessarily bad ... because people. More

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