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3 months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mother of three-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl 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 monotony and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, unclean and disgusting . In dream, I wanted everybody to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to advertise that fact, however 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, however doesn't desire assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and possibly end up in prison. I couldn't help that. Due to the fact that the sex was that excellent, the threats exceeded the effects. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then began her specialist manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and difficult one for me, however absolutely nothing beneficial comes easy as my father would state. 8 months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her partner is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.

I 'd never heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking kids, daddies raping young daughters, women having sex with animals, moms watching dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves taking on soldiers of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs 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. Her stories were always about someone she understood or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I discovered particularly troubling was that her vile fantasies worked their way into my tame fantasies like an attacking infection, pushing my basic, relatively tidy daydreams of romantic love out changing 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 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 concept in my head. 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 practically broke my back in the attempt, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.

We didn't always sit for stories. Most 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 continuously. We purchased clothes a good deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I accepted her and wore what she picked out. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, throwing out every set of pants I owned. I wore just short gowns at Staci's persistence. I became Staci's live Barbie Doll. My boring life ended when I pertained to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll. 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, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when suffering before 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 aromatic douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however concealing the result from my partner 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 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 want you had never ever been born. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, but I didn't rather understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a lady. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just picture what wishing I 'd never been born required. Max is a huge man, a male of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically hurt me, but the idea never left my mind. I believed he might require me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a excellent laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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