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3 months ago, I was your everyday housewife and mother of 3-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a woman of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. The life of a housewife with all kids in school is boring 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 think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and filthy, disgusting and unclean . In dream, I desired everybody to understand the brand-new me. In reality, I didn't want to market 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 assistance. I feared my sexual addiction would virtually damage my marital relationship. I 'd lose my children and perhaps end up in prison. I couldn't help that. Since the sex was that good, the dangers outweighed the repercussions. 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 difficult and long one for me, however nothing beneficial comes easy as my daddy would say. 8 months of patient prodding has actually settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her partner is a police investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in typical.

I 'd never heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, fathers raping young children, ladies having sex with animals, mothers viewing dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, wives handling soldiers of horny men, blacks on whites, old with young, canines 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 always about somebody she understood or heard about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found particularly disturbing was that her vile fantasies worked their way into my tame fantasies like an invading infection, pushing my basic, fairly clean daydreams of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the featured performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a daily session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your house. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Most of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and makeup, offering me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothes a fantastic deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my closet manager. I wore only brief dresses at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. She persuaded me I was gorgeous to the severe, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, but she soon had me comfy even when suffering 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 aromatic douche and involved a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a extensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of perfume. I liked her manicures, however concealing the result from my hubby was difficult. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted me not to cheat. If I ever discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get proof favorable or capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never been born. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, but I didn't rather understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a female. He had actually never ever threatened me with divorce. I could only envision what wanting I 'd never been born involved. Max is a big guy, 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 thought he might force me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a excellent laugh at the possibilities, however it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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