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Three months earlier, I was your everyday homemaker and mother of three-- two boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I easily confess I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, disgusting and dirty . In dream, I wanted everyone to understand 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 junkie that understands where the dependency will lead, but does not want assistance. The dangers outweighed the consequences since the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, learnt more about me, inside and out, then started her expert manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a long and difficult one for me, but absolutely nothing rewarding comes easy as my daddy would say. 8 months of patient prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her husband is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. I found 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 working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language godawful. In combined company, I chuckled uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never heard such stunning and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, daddies raping young children, females having sex with animals, mothers enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on troops of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little girls. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I found particularly disturbing was that her disgusting fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an getting into infection, pressing my basic, reasonably tidy musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout the house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

We didn't constantly sit for stories. The majority 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 constantly. We purchased clothing a great deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I accepted her and wore what she picked out. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, tossing out every pair of pants I owned. I wore only brief dresses 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 ideal female form. She encouraged me I was stunning to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version 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, but concealing the result from my other half was impossible. My 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. I keep in mind being incensed at the simple idea. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of guy that lives in fear of his wife unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I won't question your activities or the method you dress. I will not sleuth or ask concerns. You can reoccur as you please. , if I ever discover out that you cheated on me.. If I ever get evidence favorable or capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I might only imagine what wanting I 'd never been born required. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, but the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he may require me to undergo 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 launched Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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