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3 months back, I was your everyday housewife and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. My spouse, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's office. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than when a month, I felt guilty. The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I freely admit I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, unclean and revolting . In fantasy, I wanted 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 was like the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, but doesn't desire aid. The dangers exceeded the repercussions because the sex was that good. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then began her professional adjustments that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and difficult one for me, however nothing rewarding comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of patient prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her hubby is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in typical.

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, females having sex with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, better halves handling soldiers of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about somebody she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I found especially disturbing was that her vile fantasies worked their way into my tame dreams like an attacking infection, pressing my simple, fairly tidy daydreams of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the featured performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head as well. 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 try. 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.

We didn't always sit for stories. Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We bought clothing a good deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe manager. I deferred to her and wore what she picked out. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every set of pants I owned. I wore only brief gowns at Staci's persistence. I became Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll, my boring life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female form. She encouraged me I was stunning to the extreme, particularly in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfy even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a fragrant douche and included 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 arise from my other half was impossible. My very first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted me not to cheat. If I ever discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. That was it. I merely 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 hit a lady. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just envision what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. Max is a big male, a man of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought he may require me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Maybe, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He might fit me with a chastity belt. 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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