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3 months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mom of 3-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My hubby, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than when a month, I felt guilty. The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and dirty, revolting and unclean . In fantasy, I wanted everyone to understand the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't want to promote that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the addict that understands where the dependency will lead, however doesn't want assistance. I feared my sexual addiction would virtually destroy my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps wind up in prison. I couldn't help that. Because the sex was that good, the threats outweighed the repercussions. I love Staci for what she's done. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her husband is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had nothing in typical.

I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, daddies raping young daughters, ladies having sex with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on troops of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little girls. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about somebody she understood or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found especially disturbing was that her repellent fantasies worked their way into my tame dreams like an getting into infection, pressing my easy, fairly clean visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout the house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Many of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I wore only short gowns at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female kind. I have constantly considered myself as being too short, too skinny, too hippy, and too top-heavy. Moreover, I considered the female genitalia as a nasty fracture beside a shit hole. She encouraged me I was gorgeous to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfy even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a scented douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the arise from my other half was difficult. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max cautioned me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the mere tip. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of guy that lives in fear of his other half cheating on him. I won't have you followed. I will not question your activities or the method you dress. I won't sleuth or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born if I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wanting I 'd never been born required. I seriously questioned he would physically hurt me, however the thought never left my mind. I believed he may 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, strangely enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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