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Three months back, I was your everyday housewife and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, dirty and revolting . In fantasy, I desired everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, but does not want assistance. I feared my sexual addiction would practically destroy my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps wind up in prison. I could not help that. The risks exceeded the effects since the sex was that great. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then started her professional adjustments that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a hard and long one for me, but absolutely nothing worthwhile comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first conference. Her partner is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.

I 'd never heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking kids, daddies raping young children, females making love with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, wives handling troops of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I discovered especially troubling was that her repellent dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an attacking infection, pressing my basic, relatively tidy visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your house. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a terrific offer, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I wore just short dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female form. She convinced me I was gorgeous to the extreme, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when suffering prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a fragrant douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however concealing the arise from my other half was impossible. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max warned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had never ever been born. He had never threatened me with divorce. I might only picture what wishing I 'd never ever been born involved. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, but the idea never left my mind. I thought he might force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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