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3 months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mom of three-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe.
The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex junkie, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and unclean, filthy and disgusting .
In dream, I desired everybody to know 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 addict that knows where the dependency will lead, but does not desire assistance. The threats exceeded the effects because the sex was that excellent. I love Staci for what she's done. 8 months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her husband is a authorities investigator, 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, mom's fucking boys, daddies raping young children, ladies making love with animals, mothers enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, wives handling soldiers of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little girls. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like bros, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about someone she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I discovered particularly troubling was that her vile dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an attacking infection, pressing my easy, fairly tidy musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the included performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.
Many of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, providing me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothes a terrific deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet supervisor. I wore just brief dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female kind. I have always thought of myself as being too short, too skinny, too hippy, and too top-heavy. I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty crack next to a shit hole. She persuaded me I was beautiful to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when languishing before her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a fragrant douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however hiding the arise from my spouse was impossible. My first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max warned me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a female. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I might only envision what wishing I 'd never been born involved. Max is a big man, a man of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, however the thought never ever left my mind. I believed he might force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that launched Staci's crusade to begin me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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