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Three months earlier, I was your daily housewife and mom of three-- 2 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 boring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex addict, 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 disgusting . In fantasy, I desired everybody to understand the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't wish to market that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, but does not desire aid. The risks surpassed the repercussions 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 began her expert manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a hard and long one for me, however nothing worthwhile comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first conference. Her partner is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's likewise rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a tubby face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am dealing with my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In combined company, I chuckled uncomfortably at her unrefined jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never heard such shocking and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking boys, fathers raping young daughters, females making love with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, other halves taking on soldiers of horny guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pet 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 to Staci. I felt like I had to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she understood or became aware of, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I seemed like she was simply fantasizing aloud, and I believed she was a really ill female. What I discovered particularly troubling was that her disgusting dreams worked their method into my tame dreams like an getting into infection, pushing my basic, fairly clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured performer. 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 your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head too. 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 nearly broke my back in the effort, however a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush handle was no longer enough.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothes a terrific offer, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I used just brief 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 gorgeous to the extreme, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfy even when suffering before her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a scented douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however concealing the result from my hubby was difficult. My very first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max cautioned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never been born. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wanting I 'd never ever been born required. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, however the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he might require me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Perhaps, 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 begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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