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3 months back, I was your daily housewife and mother of three-- two boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. My other half, 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 housewife with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I freely admit I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, horrible and filthy .
In dream, I wanted everybody to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to market that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I was like the junkie that understands where the addiction will lead, but doesn't want assistance. I feared my sexual addiction would virtually ruin my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and possibly end up in prison. I couldn't help that. The risks outweighed the consequences since the sex was that great. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her partner is a authorities investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. I found her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a tubby face. She left of high school, whereas I am dealing with my masters in English. I discovered her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In mixed company, I chuckled uncomfortably at her unrefined jokes, however the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking kids, dads raping young daughters, females making love with animals, mothers enjoying dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, other halves taking on soldiers of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. I felt like I needed to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she knew or became aware of, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. I seemed like she was merely daydreaming out loud, and I believed she was a extremely sick woman. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her repellent fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an attacking infection, pushing my easy, fairly clean daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your house. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head. She told 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 offer it a try. I practically broke my back in the attempt, however a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.
Many of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothing a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet supervisor. I used only short dresses at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female type. She encouraged me I was gorgeous to the severe, particularly in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfy even when languishing before her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina 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 thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however concealing the arise from my partner was difficult. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max cautioned me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the simple recommendation. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of man that lives in fear of his other half unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I won't question your activities or the way you dress. I will not snoop or ask concerns. You can reoccur as you please. If I ever learn that you cheated on me. I'll make you wish you had never ever been born if I ever get proof favorable or catch you in the act. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite comprehend. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a female. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I might just picture what wishing I 'd never been born required. Max is a huge male, a male 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 might fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a great make fun of the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that released Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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