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3 months earlier, I was your daily housewife and mom of three-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. My partner, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's office. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and most likely never ever 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 freely admit I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and filthy, dirty and horrible . In dream, I desired everybody to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to advertise that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I resembled the junkie that understands where the addiction will lead, but does not want assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would virtually damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and potentially wind up in prison. I could not help that. Because the sex was that great, the threats exceeded the effects. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then started her specialist manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a challenging and long one for me, however nothing rewarding comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of client prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first conference. Her hubby is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I found her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a pudgy face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language godawful. In blended company, I laughed uncomfortably at her crude jokes, however the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, fathers raping young children, ladies making love with animals, moms seeing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, other halves taking on troops of randy guys, 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 bros, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I discovered particularly disturbing was that her repellent fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an invading infection, pressing my simple, reasonably clean visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your home. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, providing me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a great deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I used just brief dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female type. She encouraged me I was stunning to the severe, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when suffering before her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a aromatic douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but hiding the result from my spouse was impossible. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max alerted 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 been born. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a woman. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just picture what wanting I 'd never been born required. Max is a huge male, a male of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought he might force me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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