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3 months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mother of three-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My partner, 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 as soon as a month, I felt guilty. The life of a homemaker 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 think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, dirty and horrible . In dream, I wanted everybody to know the new me. In reality, I didn't want to promote that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the addict that knows where the dependency will lead, but does not want aid. I feared my sexual addiction would virtually destroy my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and potentially end up in prison. I could not help that. The dangers outweighed the repercussions since 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 controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a difficult and long one for me, however absolutely nothing beneficial comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of patient prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her other half 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 dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In blended business, I laughed uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, dads raping young children, females making love with animals, moms seeing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, partners taking on soldiers of randy males, 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 siblings, so I was stuck to Staci. I seemed like I had to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were constantly about someone she understood or became aware of, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. I felt like she was merely fantasizing aloud, and I thought she was a extremely ill woman. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her repellent dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an invading virus, pressing my simple, fairly clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured performer. I stopped my month-to-month 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, throughout your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out 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 give it a whirl. I nearly broke my back in the effort, but a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.

We didn't constantly 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 closet supervisor. I accepted her and wore what she picked out. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every pair of pants I owned. I wore only brief dresses 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 uninteresting life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female type. She convinced me I was stunning to the severe, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfortable even when languishing before her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a aromatic douche and involved 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 arise from my hubby was impossible. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max warned me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the mere suggestion. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of guy that resides in fear of his better half unfaithful on him. I won't have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I will not sleuth or ask concerns. You can reoccur as you please. If I ever discover 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. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could only envision what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I believed he might require me to undergo 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 good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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