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3 months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mother of three-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My partner, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's workplace. 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. I was so straight if I masturbated more than once a month, I felt guilty. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and unclean, dirty and horrible . In fantasy, I wanted everyone to know the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the addict that understands where the addiction will lead, but does not desire aid. The threats surpassed the repercussions due to the fact that the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. 8 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 absolutely 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 dropped out of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language atrocious. In mixed business, I chuckled uneasily at her unrefined jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such shocking and disgusting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking boys, daddies raping young daughters, females having sex with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, wives taking on soldiers of horny guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pets 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 felt like I had to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were always about somebody she understood or became aware of, never ever about anything she had any direct understanding of. I seemed like she was simply thinking aloud, and I thought she was a really ill woman. What I discovered particularly disturbing was that her repellent dreams worked their method into my tame fantasies like an getting into infection, pushing my simple, relatively clean musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically 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 everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout the house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.

We didn't always sit for stories. The majority of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothes a great deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. I accepted her and used what she chose. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, tossing out every set of trousers I owned. I wore only brief dresses at Staci's insistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. My uninteresting life ended when I pertained to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female form. She convinced me I was lovely to the extreme, particularly between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when suffering prior to her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina variation 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 thorough hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, but concealing the arise from my hubby was impossible. My first cunnicure triggered 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 tip. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of man that resides in fear of his partner unfaithful on him. I will not have you followed. I will not question your activities or the method you dress. I will not sleuth 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 wish you had actually never been born. That was it. I simply nodded my understanding, however I didn't rather understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever hit a female. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I could just envision what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. Max is a big male, a guy of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, but the idea never left my mind. I believed he might force me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Maybe, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He might fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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