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3 months back, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of three-- two kids, 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 ever entered my mind, and probably never ever 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 dullness and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, unclean and disgusting .
In fantasy, I desired everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to market that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I was like the junkie that knows where the dependency will lead, but doesn't want assistance. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially ruin my marriage. I 'd lose my children and perhaps end up in prison. I could not assist that. Since the sex was that excellent, the threats surpassed the effects. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then started her professional manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a challenging and long one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her husband is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had nothing in common.
I 'd never heard such shocking and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, daddies raping young daughters, females making love with animals, moms enjoying 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 ladies. 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 constantly about someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her vile fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an getting into virus, pressing my basic, relatively clean musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the featured entertainer. 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, anywhere in your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head also. 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 give it a try. I nearly broke my back in the attempt, however a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush manage was no longer enough.
Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothing a fantastic offer, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I used only short dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. She encouraged me I was gorgeous to the extreme, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfortable even when languishing before 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 aromatic douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however concealing the arise from my partner was impossible. My very first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max warned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable or capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, but I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a female. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I might only picture what wishing I 'd never been born entailed. Max is a huge male, a guy of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, but the thought never ever left my mind. I thought he may force me to undergo a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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