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3 months back, I was your everyday housewife and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My hubby, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot lawyer with the DA's office. 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 as soon as a month, I felt guilty.
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 confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, dirty and disgusting .
In dream, I wanted everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't want to market that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I resembled the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, however doesn't want help. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially destroy my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and potentially wind up in prison. I couldn't assist that. Because the sex was that great, the dangers exceeded the effects. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then began her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and difficult one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my daddy would say. Eight months of client prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her spouse is a cops investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in typical.
I 'd never ever heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, daddies raping young daughters, females making love with animals, mothers seeing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, wives handling troops of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little women. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about someone she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found particularly disturbing was that her vile fantasies worked their way into my tame fantasies like an getting into infection, pushing my basic, relatively clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the featured performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head as well. She informed me a story about a female gymnast with a hunger for her own pussy. Being an ex-gymnast and volunteer cheerleading coach, I figured I 'd provide it a try. I practically broke my back in the effort, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush manage was no longer enough.
We didn't always sit for stories. Most of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, giving me pedicures, rubbing 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 accepted her and wore what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every set of trousers I owned. I used only brief gowns at Staci's insistence. I became Staci's live Barbie Doll. My boring life ended when I came to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female type. I have constantly considered myself as being too short, too slim, too hippy, and too top-heavy. In addition, I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty crack next to a shit hole. She persuaded me I was gorgeous to the severe, specifically in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfortable even when suffering prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version 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 extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but hiding the result from my partner was difficult. My very first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the mere tip. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of guy that lives in fear of his better half cheating on him. I will not have you followed. I won't question your activities or the way you dress. I won't sleuth or ask concerns. You can come and go as you please. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof favorable or capture you in the act, I'll make you wish you had never ever been born. That was it. I simply nodded my understanding, but I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a lady. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could just picture what wishing I 'd never been born involved. Max is a huge man, a man of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, but the thought never left my mind. I believed he may require me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Possibly, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He may fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a good make fun of the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that launched Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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