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3 months earlier, I was your daily housewife and mother of three-- two boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. My hubby, 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 once a month, I felt guilty.
Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. Sex is all I believe about, and no perversion turns me off.
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 understands where the dependency will lead, however does not want help. I feared my sexual addiction would essentially damage my marriage. I 'd lose my kids and perhaps end up in prison. I couldn't assist that. Because the sex was that good, the threats outweighed the consequences. I love Staci for what she's done. Eight months of patient prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first conference. Her hubby 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 left of high school, whereas I am working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language atrocious. In blended company, I chuckled uneasily at her unrefined jokes, but 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, mother's fucking kids, dads raping young daughters, women making love with animals, moms seeing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, spouses taking on soldiers of horny males, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little women. She had my head swimming in a swamp of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like brothers, so I was stuck with Staci. I seemed like I needed to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and laugh at her jokes. Her stories were constantly about somebody she understood 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 sick female. What I found especially disturbing was that her repellent fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an getting into virus, pushing my easy, relatively clean musings of romantic love out changing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the featured performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using a water wand, and started a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your house. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that idea in my head.
We didn't always sit for stories. The majority of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and make-up, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothes a good deal, 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, throwing out every pair of trousers I owned. I used just brief gowns at Staci's persistence. I ended up being Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my function as a living Barbie Doll, my dull life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. She convinced me I was lovely to the extreme, especially 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 vaginal area version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a fragrant 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 result from my other half was difficult. My very first cunnicure triggered 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 evidence favorable or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had never ever been born. He had never ever threatened me with divorce. I might only imagine what wanting I 'd never ever been born entailed. I seriously questioned he would physically hurt me, but the thought never ever left my mind. I thought he may force me to go through a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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