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Three months ago, I was your daily homemaker and mom of 3-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. My partner, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot lawyer with the DA's office. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than as soon as 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 freely confess I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and filthy, revolting and filthy . In fantasy, I desired everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't want to advertise that fact, but I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.

I was like the junkie that knows where the addiction will lead, but does not desire help. The risks outweighed the effects since the sex was that excellent. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then began her expert manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a hard and long one for me, but absolutely nothing beneficial comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first meeting. Her other half is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common. In fact, I discovered her rather dull and one dimensional. She's likewise 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 godawful. In mixed company, I chuckled uncomfortably 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, mom's fucking children, fathers raping young children, women having sex with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, wives taking on troops of horny guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little ladies. 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 had to indulge her. I needed to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were always about someone she knew or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I seemed like she was merely thinking aloud, and I believed she was a extremely ill female. What I discovered especially troubling was that her disgusting fantasies worked their way into my tame dreams like an invading virus, pushing my easy, relatively tidy musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured performer. 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, throughout the house. After six months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head also. 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 provide it a whirl. I almost broke my back in the effort, however a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush handle was no longer enough.

We didn't constantly sit for stories. The majority 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 continuously. We purchased clothes a lot, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. I deferred to her and wore what she picked out. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, tossing out every set of trousers I owned. I wore just short gowns at Staci's persistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. My uninteresting life ended when I concerned accept my role as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the perfect female kind. She convinced me I was lovely to the severe, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when languishing before her with my legs wide 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 involved 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 hiding the arise from my other half was impossible. My first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max alerted me not to cheat. If I ever discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had never been born. That was it. I just nodded my understanding, but I didn't quite comprehend. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do exactly. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a woman. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I might just imagine what wishing I 'd never been born involved. Max is a big guy, a man of John Wayne stature who might snap my back with one hand. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, however the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he may force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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