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3 months ago, I was your daily housewife and mother of three-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman 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. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. In fantasy, I wanted everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want to advertise that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I resembled the addict that understands where the dependency will lead, however doesn't want help. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially destroy my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps end up in prison. I couldn't assist that. Since the sex was that good, the threats surpassed the effects. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. 8 months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her partner is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in typical.

I 'd never heard such shocking and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking kids, dads raping young children, females making love with animals, moms enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, partners taking on troops of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little girls. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck with Staci. I seemed like I had to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about somebody she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I felt like she was simply fantasizing out loud, and I thought she was a very ill female. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her vile dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an getting into virus, pushing my basic, reasonably clean daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the included entertainer. 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, anywhere in your home. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head. 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 give it a whirl. I almost broke my back in the effort, however a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, giving me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothes a terrific deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. 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 type. She persuaded me I was beautiful to the extreme, specifically between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when suffering before her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure began with a scented 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, but hiding the arise from my hubby was difficult. My very first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max alerted me not to cheat. I keep in mind being incensed at the mere recommendation. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of male that lives in worry of his wife cheating on him. I won't have you followed. I won't question your activities or the way 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. I'll make you want you had never been born if I ever get proof favorable or capture you in the act. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I could only imagine what wanting I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, but the thought 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 good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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