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3 months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mother of 3-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and most likely never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I easily admit 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 unclean, dirty and revolting . In dream, I wanted everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want 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, but doesn't want aid. The risks surpassed the repercussions because the sex was that great. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, learnt more about me, inside and out, then began her professional manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a challenging and long one for me, however absolutely nothing worthwhile comes easy as my dad would state. 8 months of patient prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first meeting. Her spouse is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.

I 'd never ever heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, dads raping young daughters, females having sex with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on soldiers of horny men, 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 brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. I felt like I needed to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she understood or found out about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I felt like she was merely daydreaming aloud, and I believed she was a really sick lady. What I discovered particularly disturbing was that her disgusting dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an getting into infection, pushing my basic, relatively tidy visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my month-to-month practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothes a terrific deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I wore only short dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female type. I have actually always thought about myself as being too brief, too slim, too hippy, and too top-heavy. In addition, I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty crack next to a shit hole. She convinced me I was stunning to the extreme, specifically in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when suffering prior to her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a fragrant douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however hiding the result from my other half was difficult. My first cunnicure prompted 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 discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. That was it. I merely 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 hit a woman. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I might only imagine what wishing I 'd never ever been born involved. Max is a huge man, a male of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, however the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he may force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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