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Three months earlier, I was your daily housewife and mom of three-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and most likely never would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe.
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 confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and filthy, dirty and horrible .
In dream, I wanted everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to market that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I resembled the addict that knows where the dependency will lead, however does not want aid. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially ruin my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and possibly wind up in prison. I could not help that. The dangers exceeded the repercussions because the sex was that great. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then started her professional manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and hard one for me, but nothing beneficial comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first meeting. Her hubby is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. In fact, I found her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a pudgy face. She left of high school, whereas I am dealing with my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In mixed company, I laughed uncomfortably at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, fathers raping young daughters, women making love with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on troops of horny guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little girls. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like bros, so I was stuck with Staci. I felt like I had to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were constantly about somebody she understood or found out about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I seemed like she was just thinking out loud, and I thought she was a extremely ill female. What I found particularly disturbing was that her repellent dreams worked their method into my tame fantasies like an attacking infection, pushing my basic, fairly tidy daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and started 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 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 offer it a try. I almost broke my back in the effort, however a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush manage was no longer enough.
We didn't always sit for stories. The majority of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a lot, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I accepted her and used what she chose. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every set of trousers I owned. I used just short gowns at Staci's insistence. I became Staci's live Barbie Doll. My boring life ended when I pertained to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female kind. She convinced me I was beautiful to the severe, specifically between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfy even when suffering before her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a aromatic douche and included 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 arise from my husband was difficult. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max warned me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the mere recommendation. This time, I listened diligently as he said, Theresa, I'm not the kind of guy that resides in worry of his spouse unfaithful on him. I won't have you followed. I won't question your activities or the way you dress. I will not sleuth or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. If I ever discover that you cheated on me. I'll make you wish you had never been born if I ever get evidence positive or catch you in the act. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I might only imagine what wishing I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, however the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he may force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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