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3 months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved throughout 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 confess I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, filthy and horrible .
In fantasy, I desired everybody to know the new me. In reality, I didn't want to promote that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I was like the addict that knows where the dependency will lead, but doesn't desire aid. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially destroy my marriage. I 'd lose my children and possibly wind up in prison. I could not help that. Because the sex was that good, the dangers surpassed the effects. 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 manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a difficult and long one for me, however absolutely nothing beneficial comes easy as my father would state. 8 months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her husband is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I found her rather dull and one dimensional. She's likewise rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a chubby face. She left of high school, whereas I am dealing with my masters in English. I discovered her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In blended business, I chuckled uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never ever heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking kids, daddies raping young daughters, females having sex with animals, mothers enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, other halves handling troops of horny guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little ladies. 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 somebody she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found especially troubling was that her repellent fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an getting into virus, pushing my simple, relatively clean daydreams of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head also. 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 basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.
We didn't constantly sit for stories. The majority of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothing a good deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. 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 trousers I owned. I wore only short 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 uninteresting life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. She encouraged me I was beautiful 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 vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a fragrant 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, but hiding the result from my husband was difficult. My first cunnicure triggered 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 find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof 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 might just picture what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, but the thought never left my mind. I thought he may force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Maybe, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He may fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that launched Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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