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3 months earlier, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. My partner, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot lawyer with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never 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 as soon as a month, I felt guilty.
The life of a housewife with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and dirty, dirty and revolting .
In fantasy, I wanted everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote 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, however doesn't want assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially damage my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and possibly end up in prison. I could not assist that. The risks exceeded the effects due to the fact that the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. 8 months of client prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her husband is a authorities detective, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had nothing in typical.
I 'd never heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, dads raping young children, women making love with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, wives handling soldiers of horny men, 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 brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. I felt like I had to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about somebody she understood or became aware of, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I felt like she was just daydreaming out loud, and I thought she was a extremely ill female. What I found particularly disturbing was that her disgusting dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an getting into infection, pressing my simple, reasonably tidy musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the included performer. I stopped my month-to-month practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and started a day-to-day session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.
We didn't always sit for stories. Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We bought clothes a good deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I deferred to her and wore what she chose. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, tossing out every set of pants 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 dull life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female kind. She encouraged me I was stunning to the extreme, particularly in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when suffering before her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a fragrant 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, but concealing the result from my spouse was impossible. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max cautioned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable or capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I might just imagine what wanting I 'd never been born required. I seriously doubted he would physically hurt me, however the thought never left my mind. I believed he might force me to undergo a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that released Staci's crusade to begin me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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