The old man pulled the jug from under his knees, the wine sloshing as the truck jiggled. "Here you go, pretty gal. Go easy on it, though. There ain't ...ll that much left."Lynn cradled the glass jug, licking her lips as she watched the wine get foamy from the sloshing. She imagined the wine to be a magic potion. In the dim greenish light from the dashboard the wine looked like some elixir used in secret rites. She unscrewed the cap and tilted the jug, pouring the sweet dizzying drink down her. When I came out Ken had dressed.We carried the boxes down to the garage. He said he’d put them in the bed of his pickup later. He handed me the box of pantyhose and said “You earned it. Enjoy, and if you want some dick sometime don’t be shy about asking. I am a single man now after all.” I told Ken that sounded good but pantyhose would have to be a part of the play. “Of course they will! I totally dig it. I’ll shred them every time though. Hell, even if you don’t want to blow me every time, you. A nearby neighbor was happy to earn some money cleaning it up and her two boys worked on the yard. It felt good to be doing something constructive and she finally settled in to her quiet home back in the woods.She was only in her mid-30s and was what you would call “skinny” because of the stress. She’d inherited some pretty big tits but they were rather flabby and sagging after all the divorce crap. She loved the privacy, so different than the city and with the warm weather began wearing less. Now, it so happed that our office’s new boss, madam ( a very influential and dominating lady), had assumed the office. She arranged for a pvt. Get- together for all colleagues and their spouses. The next day after the dinner, she threw the bombshell, that she wanted my wife to be their muse ( kind of a lesbian slave). She and other most, influential ladies of the state had formed the group where they would share new ladies (women) amongst themselves. She threw me the shocker, that if I don’t.