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Three months back, I was your daily housewife and mother of 3-- two boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never 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 dullness and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, unclean and horrible . 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 resembled the junkie that understands where the addiction will lead, however doesn't desire help. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially ruin my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and potentially end up in prison. I could not help that. Due to the fact that the sex was that excellent, the dangers exceeded the effects. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, learnt more about me, inside and out, then started her expert adjustments that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a difficult and long one for me, but absolutely nothing rewarding comes easy as my father would state. 8 months of client prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her spouse is a authorities detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. In fact, I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a pudgy face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I discovered her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language atrocious. In blended business, I laughed uneasily at her crude jokes, however 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, fathers raping young children, females having sex with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses handling troops of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found especially disturbing was that her disgusting dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an getting into virus, pushing my simple, reasonably clean daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my month-to-month practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I used just brief gowns at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female form. She encouraged me I was gorgeous to the severe, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable 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 started 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 fragrance. I liked her manicures, however hiding the result from my husband was impossible. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max cautioned me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the mere recommendation. This time, I listened attentively as he said, Theresa, I'm not the type of male that lives in fear of his partner unfaithful on him. I won't have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I won't snoop or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. , if I ever find out that you cheated on me.. I'll make you wish you had never ever been born if I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wishing I 'd never been born involved. I seriously doubted 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 make fun of the possibilities, however 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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