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3 months back, I was your everyday housewife and mom of 3-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and most likely never ever would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife 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 consider, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and unclean, revolting and dirty . In dream, I desired everybody to know the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't want to promote that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I resembled the junkie that knows where the dependency will lead, but does not want aid. I feared my sexual addiction would practically ruin my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and perhaps wind up in prison. I couldn't assist that. The dangers outweighed the effects because the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then began her specialist controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a long and challenging one for me, however nothing beneficial comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of client prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her partner is a cops investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.

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, moms watching dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, spouses handling troops of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, canines 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 to Staci. I felt like I needed to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. I seemed like she was merely thinking aloud, and I thought she was a extremely sick woman. What I found particularly troubling was that her vile dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an getting into virus, pushing my simple, relatively clean visions of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the featured entertainer. 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 six months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothes a great deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe manager. I used only short gowns at Staci's insistence. 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, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version 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 fragrance. I liked her manicures, but hiding the result from my hubby was difficult. My very first cunnicure triggered 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 capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wanting I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, however the thought never left my mind. I thought he may force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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