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3 months ago, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of three-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never 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 admit I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, horrible and dirty . In fantasy, I wanted everybody to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to market 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 dependency will lead, but doesn't desire assistance. The risks surpassed the consequences since the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then began her professional controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and tough one for me, but absolutely nothing rewarding comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of client prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her spouse is a cops 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, mother's fucking sons, fathers raping young children, women making love with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, partners handling soldiers of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little women. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like bros, 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 understood or became aware of, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I seemed like she was just fantasizing out loud, and I believed she was a really ill lady. What I found especially troubling was that her disgusting fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an invading virus, pushing my easy, reasonably clean musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using 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 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We went shopping for clothing a fantastic offer, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe manager. I used only brief dresses at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female type. She encouraged me I was gorgeous to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when languishing 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 began with a aromatic 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 concealing the arise from my spouse was difficult. My first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted me not to cheat. If I ever find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had never ever been born. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I could only envision what wanting I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously doubted he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought 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 launched Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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