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Three months back, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of 3-- 2 kids, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. My other half, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's workplace. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and probably never ever would have had we stagnated 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 boring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I freely confess I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and dirty, disgusting and dirty .
In fantasy, I wanted everybody to understand the new me. In reality, I didn't wish to promote 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 dependency will lead, but doesn't want assistance. The risks exceeded the repercussions due to the fact that the sex was that good. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, learnt more about me, inside and out, then started her specialist adjustments that led me to where I am now. The journey has been a long and tough one for me, however nothing rewarding comes easy as my daddy would say. 8 months of client prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our first meeting. Her spouse is a authorities investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common. I discovered 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 working on my masters in English. I found her childish fascination with sexual matters troubling and her language godawful. In mixed company, I chuckled uncomfortably at her unrefined jokes, however the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.
I 'd never heard such shocking and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, fathers raping young daughters, females having sex with animals, moms seeing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, spouses taking on soldiers of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, dogs on little women. She had my head swimming in a overload 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 understanding of. What I found especially disturbing was that her repellent fantasies worked their method into my tame fantasies like an getting into virus, pressing my simple, fairly clean daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured performer. I stopped my regular monthly practice of masturbating in the shower utilizing a water wand, and began a everyday session of self-abuse, sticking anything phallic up my cunt or ass, throughout your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I learned how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head. 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 offer it a try. I almost broke my back in the effort, however a easy self-fuck with cucumbers or my daughter's hair brush manage 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, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We shopped for clothes a great deal, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I deferred to her and used what she chose. I let her clear out my closet of all my modest dresses, throwing out every pair of pants I owned. I used just short dresses at Staci's insistence. I became Staci's live Barbie Doll. When I came to accept my role as a living Barbie Doll, my boring life ended. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female form. I have always considered myself as being too short, too skinny, too hippy, and too top-heavy. Moreover, I considered the female genitalia as a nasty crack beside a shit hole. She persuaded me I was stunning to the extreme, specifically between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs large apart for a vaginal shave or the vagina version of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a scented douche and included a close shave, a clitty suck to orgasm, a comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, but concealing the result from my hubby was impossible. My very first cunnicure triggered Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marriage, Max warned me not to cheat. If I ever discover out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence positive or catch you in the act, I'll make you want you had never ever been born. That was it. I merely nodded my understanding, but I didn't quite understand. He didn't elaborate on what he 'd do precisely. Max wasn't the type to ever strike a woman. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could just envision what wishing I 'd never ever been born involved. Max is a huge guy, a male of John Wayne stature who could snap my back with one hand. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, but the idea never ever left my mind. I believed he might force me to undergo a breast decrease or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a good laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that released Staci's crusade to start me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.
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