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Three months earlier, I was your everyday housewife and mom of three-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I freely admit I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and unclean, horrible and dirty . In dream, I desired everyone to understand the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't want to market that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the junkie that understands where the dependency will lead, however doesn't desire help. I feared my sexual addiction would practically ruin my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and potentially wind up in prison. I could not assist that. The threats exceeded the consequences 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 started her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and hard one for me, however nothing beneficial comes easy as my dad would say. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first conference. Her other half is a authorities investigator, 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 also 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 godawful. In blended business, I chuckled uneasily at her unrefined jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, daddies raping young daughters, women making love with animals, moms seeing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, spouses taking on soldiers of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs 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. I felt like I needed to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were constantly about someone she understood or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I seemed like she was just thinking aloud, and I believed she was a really ill woman. What I discovered particularly troubling was that her vile dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an invading infection, pressing my basic, reasonably clean daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my 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, anywhere in the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head. 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 offer it a whirl. I nearly broke my back in the attempt, but a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush handle 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 make-up, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We purchased clothing a lot, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I deferred to her and used what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, tossing out every pair of pants I owned. I used only short dresses at Staci's persistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. My boring life ended when I pertained to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. I have constantly thought about myself as being too short, too skinny, too hippy, and too top-heavy. I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty crack next to a shit hole. She encouraged me I was stunning to the severe, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a scented douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however concealing the result from my other half 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. If I ever discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had never been born. That was it. I simply nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a woman. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I might just imagine what wanting I 'd never been born involved. Max is a huge man, a male of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically hurt me, but the thought never left my mind. I believed he may force me to undergo 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, strangely enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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