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3 months ago, I was your daily homemaker and mother of three-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a lady of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and probably never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe.
The life of a homemaker with all kids in school is tiring to the extreme. Staci ended my monotony and made me what I am today. I easily confess I am a sex junkie, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think about, and no perversion turns me off. I desire my sex down and filthy, filthy and horrible .
In fantasy, I desired everybody to know the new me. In reality, I didn't want to market that fact, but 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, but doesn't desire help. The dangers surpassed the consequences because the sex was that good. I like Staci for what she's done. Eight months of patient prodding has paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her hubby is a authorities detective, so Max and Joe have the law in common. Staci and I had nothing in common.
I 'd never heard such stunning and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking kids, fathers raping young daughters, females having sex with animals, mothers enjoying dirty old men molest their children and getting off on it, spouses handling soldiers of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pets 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. I seemed like I had to indulge her. I had to listen to her stories and make fun of her jokes. Her stories were constantly about somebody she knew or found out about, never ever about anything she had any direct knowledge of. I seemed like she was just fantasizing out loud, and I thought she was a very sick lady. What I discovered especially disturbing was that her vile dreams worked their method into my tame dreams like an invading infection, pushing my easy, relatively clean visions of romantic love out changing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, frequently with me as the featured entertainer. I stopped my regular monthly 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, throughout your home. After six months of Staci's stories, I found out 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 provide it a try. I almost broke my back in the effort, but a basic self-fuck with cucumbers or my child's hair brush handle was no longer enough.
Many of our time together was invested with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, providing me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me continuously. We shopped for clothing a great deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my wardrobe manager. I wore only short gowns at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female kind. She convinced me I was stunning 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 version 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 hiding the arise from my husband was impossible. My 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 catch you in the act, I'll make you wish you had actually never ever been born. He had never threatened me with divorce. I might only picture what wanting I 'd never been born involved. I seriously questioned he would physically harm me, however the idea never ever left my mind. I thought he may require me to go through a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Staci and I had a great laugh at the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, strangely enough, that introduced Staci's crusade to begin me down the road of adulterous affairs.
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