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3 months earlier, I was your everyday homemaker and mother of three-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I easily confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, disgusting and dirty . In fantasy, I desired everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to market that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I resembled the addict that knows where the dependency will lead, however does not want assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would practically damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and possibly wind up in prison. I could not assist that. The dangers outweighed the effects since the sex was that good. 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 actually been a long and difficult one for me, however absolutely nothing worthwhile comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of patient prodding has actually settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her other half is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had 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 dealing with my masters in English. I discovered her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language atrocious. In mixed company, I chuckled uncomfortably at her crude jokes, but the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, daddies raping young children, ladies having sex with animals, moms seeing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, partners taking on troops of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs on little girls. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. I seemed like I had to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were constantly about someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I felt like she was just daydreaming out loud, and I thought she was a really sick lady. What I found especially disturbing was that her repellent dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an attacking virus, pushing my basic, reasonably tidy visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my 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, throughout the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept 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 give it a whirl. I almost broke my back in the attempt, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush manage was no longer enough.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, giving me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothing a fantastic offer, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I wore only short gowns at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female type. She persuaded me I was lovely to the extreme, particularly 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 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 extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the arise from my husband 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 warned me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the simple tip. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of man that resides in worry of his other half cheating on him. I won't have you followed. I won't question your activities or the method you dress. I will not sleuth or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. , if I ever discover out that you cheated on me.. I'll make you wish you had never been born if I ever get proof favorable or catch you in the act. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could only envision what wanting I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously questioned he would physically hurt me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought he may force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Possibly, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He may fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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