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Three months ago, I was your daily homemaker and mother of 3-- 2 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 homemaker with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and dirty, revolting and dirty . In fantasy, I desired everybody to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish 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 dependency will lead, however doesn't desire assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would practically damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and possibly end up in prison. I couldn't assist that. The threats surpassed the repercussions since the sex was that great. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then began her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a tough and long one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my daddy would state. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. 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 chubby face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I discovered her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language atrocious. In blended business, I chuckled uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

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 making love with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, spouses handling soldiers of horny guys, 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 bros, so I was stuck to Staci. I felt like I needed to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she knew or found out about, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. I felt like she was simply daydreaming out loud, and I thought she was a very sick female. What I found particularly disturbing was that her vile fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an invading infection, pressing my basic, fairly clean musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the included performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in the house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothes a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe supervisor. I wore only brief dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female type. She encouraged me I was beautiful to the extreme, particularly in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing before her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a aromatic douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however hiding the arise from my partner was difficult. My first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the simple suggestion. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of male that resides in fear of his spouse cheating 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 reoccur as you please. , if I ever discover out that you cheated on me.. If I ever get evidence favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had never been born. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I could only imagine what wanting I 'd never been born involved. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, but the thought never left my mind. I thought he might force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Maybe, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He might 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 released Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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