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Three months back, I was your everyday homemaker and mother of 3-- two kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My other half, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never would have had we stagnated across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than when a month, I felt guilty. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and unclean, horrible and unclean . In dream, I desired everybody to understand the 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 understands where the dependency will lead, but doesn't want help. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps wind up in prison. I couldn't help that. The threats exceeded the repercussions due to the fact that the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then began her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a long and challenging one for me, but nothing worthwhile comes easy as my daddy would state. 8 months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her other half is a police detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. I found her rather dull and one dimensional. She's likewise rather plain and plump with short-cropped hair and a pudgy face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In blended company, I laughed uncomfortably at her unrefined jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking children, fathers raping young daughters, ladies having sex with animals, mothers watching dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, better halves handling troops of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were always about somebody 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 way into my tame fantasies like an attacking infection, pressing my easy, fairly clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the featured performer. I stopped my month-to-month 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 the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head too. She told 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 try. I nearly broke my back in the effort, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush manage was no longer enough.

We didn't constantly sit for stories. Most of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We purchased clothing a great deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. I accepted her and wore what she picked out. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every pair of pants I owned. I wore only short dresses at Staci's insistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll, my boring life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female type. I have actually constantly thought about myself as being too short, too skinny, too hippy, and too top-heavy. I believed of the female genitalia as a nasty crack next to a shit hole. She persuaded me I was lovely to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfortable even when suffering prior to her with my legs broad 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 included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however hiding the result 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 cautioned me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the mere idea. This time, I listened diligently as he said, Theresa, I'm not the kind of man that resides in worry 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 won't snoop or ask concerns. You can go and come as you please. , if I ever find out that you cheated on me.. If I ever get proof favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had never been born. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could just imagine what wishing I 'd never been born entailed. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, however the idea never left my mind. I thought he may require me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Perhaps, 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, but it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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