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Three months back, I was your everyday housewife and mother of 3-- two boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and most likely never would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, dirty and horrible . In dream, I wanted everybody to know the brand-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 was like the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, however doesn't desire assistance. The threats outweighed the consequences because the sex was that excellent. 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 adjustments that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a tough and long one for me, but nothing beneficial comes easy as my daddy would say. Eight months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her husband is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had nothing in typical.

I 'd never heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking children, fathers raping young children, women having sex with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, wives taking on troops of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs 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 understanding of. What I found especially disturbing was that her disgusting dreams worked their method into my tame fantasies like an invading virus, pushing my simple, fairly clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the included performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head too. 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 whirl. I nearly broke my back in the attempt, however a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush manage was no longer enough.

We didn't always sit for stories. The majority of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We bought clothes a lot, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. I deferred to her and wore what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every pair of trousers I owned. I used only short gowns at Staci's insistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll, my boring life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female kind. She persuaded me I was beautiful to the severe, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfortable even when suffering 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 comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the arise from my hubby was difficult. My first cunnicure prompted 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 mere idea. This time, I listened diligently as he said, Theresa, I'm not the type of male that lives in fear of his better half cheating on him. I will not have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I will not sleuth or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. If I ever learn that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a lady. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I might only picture what wanting I 'd never ever been born required. Max is a huge male, a man of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, however the thought never ever left my mind. I believed he might require me to undergo a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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