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Three months ago, I was your daily housewife and mom of 3-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. 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 slut, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and unclean, disgusting and dirty . In dream, I wanted everybody to know 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 was like the addict that knows where the dependency will lead, but does not want aid. I feared my sexual dependency would essentially damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my kids and possibly wind up in prison. I could not assist that. The risks exceeded the consequences since the sex was that great. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then started her expert manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and difficult one for me, but absolutely nothing worthwhile comes easy as my dad would state. Eight months of client prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her husband is a police investigator, 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 tubby face. She dropped out of high school, whereas I am dealing with my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language godawful. In mixed business, I laughed uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but the stories she told me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never ever heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking children, fathers raping young children, ladies making love with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, better halves handling soldiers of randy men, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little ladies. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like siblings, so I was stuck to Staci. I seemed 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 found out 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 ill woman. What I discovered especially troubling was that her vile fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an attacking virus, pressing my simple, fairly clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and began a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, anywhere in your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head. 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 give it a whirl. I practically broke my back in the effort, but a simple self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush handle was no longer enough.

Most 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 clothes a terrific deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet supervisor. I used just short gowns at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female form. She convinced me I was lovely to the extreme, particularly in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she quickly had me comfy even when languishing 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 aromatic 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, however hiding the result from my spouse was impossible. My 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. 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 been born. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could only imagine what wishing I 'd never been born required. I seriously questioned he would physically damage 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 excellent laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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