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Three months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mom of three-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My hubby, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney 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 once a month, I felt guilty.
The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I freely 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 unclean, unclean and revolting .
In dream, I desired everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I resembled the addict that knows where the addiction will lead, however doesn't want assistance. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially damage my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and possibly end up in prison. I couldn't assist that. The threats outweighed the repercussions due to the fact that the sex was that great. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then started her specialist controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a long and hard one for me, however nothing worthwhile comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her spouse is a authorities investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in typical.
I 'd never heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, daddies raping young daughters, women making love with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, wives handling soldiers of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little girls. 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 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 repellent fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an attacking virus, 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 month-to-month 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, anywhere in your house. After six months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head also. 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 provide it a try. I nearly broke my back in the attempt, but a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.
Most of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothes a excellent deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I used only short dresses at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. I have actually always thought of myself as being too brief, too skinny, too hippy, and too top-heavy. I believed of the female genitalia as a nasty fracture next to a shit hole. She persuaded me I was beautiful to the extreme, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs large 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 perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the result from my partner was difficult. My first cunnicure prompted 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 discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence positive or capture you in the act, I'll make you wish you had never been born. He had never threatened me with divorce. I might only picture what wishing I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously questioned he would physically hurt me, however the idea never left my mind. I believed he may force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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