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3 months earlier, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of three-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My husband, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot lawyer with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and most likely never ever would have had we stagnated 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 tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, dirty and revolting . In fantasy, I wanted everybody to know the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I resembled the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, however does not want aid. I feared my sexual addiction would practically ruin my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps end up in prison. I could not help that. The dangers exceeded the repercussions because the sex was that great. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then began her expert manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and hard one for me, but nothing beneficial comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her hubby is a authorities investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in typical.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, dads raping young children, females making love with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves handling soldiers of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, canines 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. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I discovered particularly troubling was that her repellent fantasies worked their way into my tame fantasies like an invading virus, pressing my simple, fairly tidy musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started 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 discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

We didn't constantly sit for stories. Most of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, giving me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothes a good deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. I deferred to her and wore what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every pair of trousers I owned. I wore just brief gowns at Staci's persistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. My uninteresting life ended when I came to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female form. She convinced me I was beautiful to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when suffering before her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version 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 arise from my other half was difficult. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted 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 simply 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 hit a woman. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I might only imagine what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. Max is a huge male, a man of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought he may force me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Maybe, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He might fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a excellent make fun of the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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