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Three months earlier, I was your everyday homemaker and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. My other half, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot lawyer with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and most likely never ever would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than once a month, I felt guilty.
The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom 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 dirty, dirty and horrible .
In fantasy, I desired everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want to advertise that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I was like the junkie that knows where the addiction will lead, but doesn't want help. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially ruin my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and possibly wind up in prison. I couldn't assist that. The risks outweighed the consequences since the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then started her professional controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and hard one for me, but absolutely nothing beneficial comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of client prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her hubby is a police 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 revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, fathers raping young daughters, ladies making love with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, partners taking on soldiers of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little girls. She had my head swimming in a overload 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 understanding of. What I discovered particularly disturbing was that her vile dreams worked their method into my tame dreams like an getting into virus, pushing my easy, fairly clean daydreams of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my month-to-month practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept 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 whirl. I almost broke my back in the effort, but a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush manage was no longer enough.
Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a great deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet manager. I wore just short dresses at Staci's persistence. 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 slim, too hippy, and too top-heavy. I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty fracture next to a shit hole. She encouraged me I was lovely to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when languishing before her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a fragrant douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however concealing the result from my spouse 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 find 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 actually never ever been born. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a lady. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wanting I 'd never been born entailed. Max is a big man, a guy of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, however the idea never left my mind. I believed he may require me to undergo a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to begin me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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