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3 months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mother of three-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never 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 easily confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and dirty, unclean and horrible .
In fantasy, I desired everybody 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 was like the junkie that understands where the addiction will lead, however doesn't desire help. The risks outweighed the consequences since the sex was that excellent. 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 very first meeting. Her partner is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had nothing in common.
I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking kids, daddies raping young children, ladies making love with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on soldiers of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found particularly troubling was that her repellent dreams worked their method into my tame fantasies like an getting into infection, pressing my simple, relatively tidy daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often 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, throughout your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.
We didn't always sit for stories. The majority of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We bought clothes a lot, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet supervisor. I deferred to her and used what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, throwing out every set of pants I owned. I wore only brief gowns at Staci's insistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll, my uninteresting life ended. 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 severe, especially between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area variation 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 extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however hiding the arise from my other half was difficult. My very 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 simple recommendation. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of male that resides in fear of his spouse unfaithful on him. I won't have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I won't snoop or ask questions. You can reoccur as you please. , if I ever find out that you cheated on me.. I'll make you wish you had never been born if I ever get evidence favorable or catch you in the act. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could only imagine what wishing I 'd never ever been born required. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought he might require me to undergo a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that launched Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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