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Three months ago, I was your daily housewife and mom of 3-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever 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 dullness and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, horrible and filthy . In fantasy, I desired everybody 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 resembled the junkie that understands where the dependency will lead, but does not desire assistance. I feared my sexual dependency would virtually damage my marriage. I 'd lose my children and perhaps wind up in prison. I couldn't assist that. The risks surpassed the effects because the sex was that excellent. I love Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then started her professional adjustments that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a hard and long one for me, but nothing beneficial comes easy as my father would say. 8 months of patient prodding has actually settled for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her partner is a police detective, 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 left of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I discovered her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In combined company, I laughed uncomfortably at her crude jokes, however the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, daddies raping young daughters, females making love with animals, moms enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves taking on soldiers of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about someone she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her vile dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an attacking virus, pressing my simple, reasonably clean visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured performer. I stopped my 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, throughout 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 as well. 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 provide it a try. I practically broke my back in the effort, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush handle was no longer enough.

Most of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothing a fantastic offer, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I wore only short dresses at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female form. She persuaded me I was beautiful to the extreme, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfy even when languishing before her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a aromatic douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the result from my other half was impossible. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max warned me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the simple tip. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of guy that resides in worry of his other half unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I will not question your activities or the method you dress. I will not snoop or ask concerns. You can go and come as you please. If I ever discover that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. That was it. I simply nodded my understanding, however I didn't rather comprehend. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a lady. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I might just picture what wishing I 'd never ever been born involved. Max is a huge man, a man of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, but the idea never left my mind. I thought he may force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Possibly, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He might fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a great make fun of the possibilities, but 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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