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3 months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mom of three-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe.
The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and unclean, revolting and filthy .
In fantasy, I desired everybody to understand the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I was like the junkie that understands where the dependency will lead, but doesn't want assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would practically destroy my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps wind up in prison. I could not assist that. The dangers surpassed the effects because the sex was that excellent. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, learnt more about me, inside and out, then began her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a tough and long one for me, however nothing worthwhile comes easy as my father would state. 8 months of client prodding has actually settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her spouse is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a pudgy face. She left of high school, whereas I am dealing with my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language godawful. In combined business, I chuckled uneasily at her crude jokes, however the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, daddies raping young daughters, ladies having sex with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, partners handling soldiers of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little women. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like bros, so I was stuck with Staci. I felt like I had to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. I felt like she was simply thinking out loud, and I believed she was a really sick woman. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her disgusting fantasies worked their way into my tame dreams like an attacking infection, pushing my easy, reasonably clean visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly 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 the house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head. 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 try. I nearly broke my back in the effort, but a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush handle was no longer enough.
We didn't constantly sit for stories. Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, giving me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We bought clothing a great deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I deferred to her and wore what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every set of trousers I owned. I wore just 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 uninteresting life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. She convinced me I was beautiful to the extreme, specifically between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfy even when suffering prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a scented 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, however concealing the result from my other half was difficult. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max cautioned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. He had never threatened me with divorce. I might only picture what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, but the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he might force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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