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Three months ago, I was your everyday homemaker and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and most likely never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. In fantasy, I wanted everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want to advertise that fact, but 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 want aid. The threats outweighed the consequences because the sex was that excellent. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then started her specialist manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a difficult and long one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my daddy would say. Eight months of patient prodding has actually settled for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her other half is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had nothing in typical.

I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking sons, fathers raping young children, women having sex with animals, mothers seeing 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 girls. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like bros, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about somebody she understood or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I discovered especially troubling was that her disgusting fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an invading infection, pressing my simple, reasonably tidy visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my regular 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, anywhere in the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothing a terrific deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I wore just brief gowns at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female form. She encouraged me I was lovely to the extreme, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing 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 involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however hiding the result from my partner was difficult. My very first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max warned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had never ever been born. That was it. I simply nodded my understanding, however I didn't rather understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a female. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I could only imagine what wishing I 'd never ever been born entailed. Max is a huge man, a male of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, but the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he might force 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, strangely enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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