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3 months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mother of 3-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and unclean, disgusting and unclean . In dream, I desired everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want 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 understands where the addiction will lead, however doesn't desire help. I feared my sexual dependency would virtually ruin my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and possibly wind up in prison. I could not assist that. The dangers surpassed the effects due to the fact that the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her hubby is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. In fact, I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a pudgy face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language atrocious. In mixed business, I laughed uncomfortably at her crude jokes, but the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never heard such stunning and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking kids, fathers raping young children, women having sex with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, partners handling troops of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs on little women. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck to Staci. I seemed like I had to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were constantly about someone she knew or found out about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. I felt like she was simply thinking aloud, and I thought she was a extremely ill woman. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her disgusting fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an attacking virus, pushing my easy, relatively clean daydreams of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the included performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing 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 six 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 cosmetics, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothes a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet manager. I used only short gowns 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, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when suffering prior to 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 began 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 fragrance. I liked her manicures, but hiding the result from my hubby was impossible. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max cautioned me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the simple recommendation. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of guy that resides in fear of his wife unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I won't question your activities or the way you dress. I won't snoop or ask questions. You can reoccur as you please. , if I ever discover out that you cheated on me.. I'll make you want you had never been born if I ever get proof favorable or catch you in the act. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite comprehend. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a female. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I might only envision what wishing I 'd never ever been born required. Max is a huge guy, a man of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically damage 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 excellent laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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