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Three months earlier, I was your daily homemaker and mom of three-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I freely admit I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and dirty, horrible and filthy . In dream, I wanted everybody to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to advertise 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 want aid. The dangers surpassed the repercussions due to the fact that 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 started her specialist controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a difficult and long one for me, however absolutely nothing beneficial comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her partner is a cops investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. In fact, I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's likewise rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a chubby face. She dropped out 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 business, I laughed uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she informed 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 children, daddies raping young children, women making love with animals, mothers seeing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, partners handling soldiers of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, canines 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 always about someone she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found especially troubling was that her vile fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an getting into virus, pushing my easy, fairly clean musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head too. She informed 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 whirl. I practically broke my back in the attempt, but a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush handle was no longer enough.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a great deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet manager. I used only short gowns at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female kind. She convinced me I was lovely to the severe, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing before 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 started 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 fragrance. I liked her manicures, however hiding the result from my husband was impossible. 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 said, Theresa, I'm not the type of male that lives in fear of his better half unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I won't question your activities or the way you dress. I will not snoop or ask questions. You can come and go as you please. If I ever learn that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. That was it. I simply nodded my understanding, but I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a female. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wanting I 'd never ever been born required. Max is a big man, a man of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically hurt me, but the thought never ever left my mind. I thought he might require me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that released Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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