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3 months back, I was your daily housewife and mother of three-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. My spouse, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never ever 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 when a month, I felt guilty. The life of a homemaker 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 addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and unclean, revolting and unclean . In fantasy, I wanted everyone to know the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't want to advertise 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, but does not desire help. The dangers surpassed the effects because the sex was that excellent. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then started her professional controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a hard and long one for me, however absolutely nothing rewarding 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 very first meeting. Her other half is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. In fact, I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a chubby face. She left 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 combined business, I laughed uncomfortably at her crude jokes, but the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking children, fathers raping young children, women making love with animals, moms watching dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves taking on troops of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little girls. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, 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 particularly troubling was that her vile fantasies worked their way into my tame fantasies like an getting into virus, pressing my simple, fairly clean musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the included performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and started a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in the house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head as well. 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 almost broke my back in the effort, however a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush manage was no longer enough.

Many 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 terrific deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I used just brief 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 beautiful to the extreme, specifically between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when suffering before her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a scented douche and involved 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 hiding the result from my husband 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 discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, but I didn't rather comprehend. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a woman. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could only envision what wishing I 'd never ever been born required. Max is a huge man, a male of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I believed he may force me to go through 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 introduced Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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