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3 months ago, I was your daily housewife and mom of 3-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and most likely never ever would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, revolting and unclean . In fantasy, I wanted everybody to understand the 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 junkie that understands where the addiction will lead, however does not want help. The threats outweighed the consequences because the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her partner is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.

I 'd never ever heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, daddies raping young daughters, women having sex with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves taking on troops of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little women. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about someone she understood or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I found particularly troubling was that her disgusting dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an getting into infection, pushing my basic, fairly tidy musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the included performer. I stopped my month-to-month practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your house. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

We didn't constantly sit for stories. The majority of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We bought clothing a great deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe manager. I accepted her and wore what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, tossing out every pair of pants I owned. I wore just short dresses at Staci's insistence. I became Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll, my dull life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. She encouraged me I was stunning to the extreme, specifically in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfy even when suffering prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a fragrant douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, but concealing the result from my spouse was difficult. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max warned me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the simple suggestion. This time, I listened attentively as he said, Theresa, I'm not the kind of guy that resides in worry of his spouse cheating on him. I won't have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I will not snoop or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. , if I ever find out that you cheated on me.. If I ever get evidence favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. That was it. I just 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 might only imagine what wishing I 'd never ever been born entailed. Max is a big man, a guy of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I believed he might force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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