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Three months back, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of 3-- two young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved throughout the street from Staci and Joe. Staci ended my boredom and made me what I am today. Sex is all I believe about, and no perversion turns me off. In fantasy, I desired 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 junkie that understands where the dependency will lead, however does not desire help. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially ruin my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and perhaps end up in prison. I couldn't help that. The dangers surpassed the effects since the sex was that good. I love Staci for what she's done. 8 months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her husband is a cops detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I found 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 dealing with my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters disturbing and her language atrocious. In blended business, I laughed uneasily at her crude jokes, but the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking boys, daddies raping young daughters, ladies making love with animals, mothers seeing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses taking on soldiers of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines on little girls. 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 someone she knew or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found especially troubling was that her disgusting dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an attacking virus, pushing my simple, reasonably clean musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, often with me as the featured performer. I stopped my 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 home. After six months of Staci's stories, I discovered how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, offering me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We went shopping for clothes a great offer, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I used only short gowns at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. She convinced me I was beautiful to the severe, specifically in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she soon 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 started with a scented douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, but concealing the arise 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 alerted me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the mere suggestion. This time, I listened attentively as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the kind of man that lives in worry of his wife cheating on him. I will not have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I will not sleuth or ask questions. You can go and come as you please. , if I ever find out that you cheated on me.. I'll make you want you had never been born if I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act. He had 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 damage me, but the idea never left my mind. I thought he might force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a excellent laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, oddly enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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