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Three months ago, I was your daily housewife and mom of three-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and most likely 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 easily admit I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, unclean and revolting .
In fantasy, I wanted everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote 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 does not want help. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially ruin my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and potentially end up in prison. I could not help that. The threats exceeded the repercussions due to the fact that the sex was that good. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, learnt more about me, inside and out, then started her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a challenging and long one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my daddy would say. Eight months of patient prodding has actually settled for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our very first meeting. Her other half is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's also rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a tubby face. She left of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language godawful. In mixed company, I laughed uneasily at her crude jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, fathers raping young children, ladies having sex with animals, mothers seeing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves taking on troops of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little women. 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 knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I found especially troubling was that her disgusting dreams worked their method into my tame fantasies like an invading virus, pushing my basic, fairly clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your home. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head as well. 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, however a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.
Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothing a fantastic offer, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I wore only short dresses at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. I have always thought of myself as being too short, too slim, too hippy, and too top-heavy. Additionally, I thought of the female genitalia as a nasty crack beside a shit hole. She encouraged me I was stunning to the severe, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfy even when suffering prior to her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a scented douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the arise from my husband was impossible. My very 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 discover 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 never ever been born. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, however I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a woman. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I might only envision what wishing I 'd never been born required. Max is a big man, a male of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically hurt me, but the idea never ever left my mind. I thought he might require me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Maybe, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He may fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a excellent laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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