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Three months earlier, I was your daily housewife and mother of three-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. My hubby, 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 stagnated across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than once a month, I felt guilty. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. Sex is all I believe about, and no perversion turns me off. In dream, I wanted everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want to promote that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the junkie that knows where the dependency will lead, but does not want help. I feared my sexual addiction would practically damage my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps wind up in prison. I could not help that. The threats outweighed the consequences since the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her spouse is a cops investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had 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, females making love with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on troops of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, 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 with Staci. I seemed 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 understanding of. I felt like she was simply thinking out loud, and I believed she was a very sick lady. What I found particularly disturbing was that her vile fantasies worked their way into my tame fantasies like an attacking virus, pushing my simple, reasonably tidy daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, typically with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using 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 found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

Many of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothing a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet manager. I used only short dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. She persuaded me I was beautiful to the severe, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing 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 arise from my husband was difficult. My very 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. I remember being incensed at the mere suggestion. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of male that lives in worry of his wife unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I won't question your activities or the method you dress. I won't sleuth or ask concerns. You can come and go as you please. , if I ever discover out that you cheated on me.. I'll make you want you had never ever been born if I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, but I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a woman. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wishing I 'd never ever been born required. 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 hurt me, however the idea never left my mind. I believed he might require me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that released Staci's crusade to begin me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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