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Three months ago, I was your daily housewife and mom of 3-- two young 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 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 freely admit I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and dirty, disgusting and filthy .
In dream, I desired everyone to know the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't wish 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 knows where the addiction will lead, but does not want help. The risks surpassed the effects due to the fact that the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then started her professional controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and challenging one for me, but absolutely nothing worthwhile comes easy as my dad would say. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her partner is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's likewise 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 troubling and her language atrocious. In mixed business, I laughed uncomfortably at her crude jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking kids, daddies raping young children, women having sex with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, better halves taking on soldiers of horny guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pets 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 to Staci. I seemed like I had to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I felt like she was merely fantasizing aloud, and I thought she was a really sick woman. What I discovered particularly disturbing was that her vile dreams worked their method into my tame fantasies like an attacking infection, pushing my simple, relatively tidy musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the included performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and started a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head. She informed 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 provide it a try. I practically broke my back in the attempt, however a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.
Many of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothing a excellent deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet manager. I wore just short gowns at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female kind. She persuaded me I was gorgeous to the extreme, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide 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 fragrance. I liked her manicures, however hiding the result from my partner was impossible. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max alerted me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable or capture you in the act, I'll make you wish you had never ever been born. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just picture what wanting I 'd never been born involved. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, but the thought never left my mind. I thought he may require me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that released Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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