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Three months ago, I was your daily housewife and mother of 3-- two boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. My other half, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's office. Cheating on Max never ever 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 boredom and made me what I am today. I freely admit I am a sex addict, a slut, a slut. Sex is all I consider, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and unclean, unclean and disgusting .
In dream, I desired everyone to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to advertise that fact, however I had no desire to reverse the self-destructive course Staci had me on.
I was like the addict that knows where the addiction will lead, however doesn't want help. The risks outweighed the effects because the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, got to know me, inside and out, then began her expert controls that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and hard one for me, but nothing rewarding comes easy as my daddy would say. 8 months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first conference. Her other half is a authorities investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.
I 'd never ever heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking boys, dads raping young daughters, women having sex with animals, moms enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, better halves handling troops of horny males, 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 bros, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about somebody she understood or heard about, never about anything she had any direct understanding of. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her repellent dreams worked their way into my tame dreams like an invading infection, pushing my easy, reasonably tidy daydreams of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, frequently with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my month-to-month practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and started 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 idea 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 try. I practically broke my back in the attempt, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush deal with was no longer enough.
We didn't always sit for stories. Most of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We looked for clothes a lot, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe manager. I accepted her and used what she selected. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest gowns, tossing out every pair of pants I owned. I used just short dresses at Staci's persistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. My uninteresting life ended when I came to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. She encouraged me I was lovely to the extreme, specifically between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when suffering before her with my legs broad apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area 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 extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however concealing 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 proof positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never been born. He had actually never threatened me with divorce. I could only imagine what wanting I 'd never been born entailed. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, but the idea never left my mind. I believed he might force me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Perhaps, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He might fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a good make fun of the possibilities, however 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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