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3 months ago, I was your daily housewife and mom of 3-- 2 boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. Cheating on Max never ever entered my mind, and most likely 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 boring to the extreme. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. I easily admit I am a sex addict, a whore, a slut. Sex is all I think of, and no perversion turns me off. I want my sex down and unclean, unclean and horrible . In fantasy, I wanted everybody to know the new me. In reality, I didn't want to promote 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, however doesn't want aid. The threats outweighed the repercussions because the sex was that great. I enjoy Staci for what she's done. She took her time with me, was familiar with me, inside and out, then began her specialist manipulations that led me to where I am now. The journey has actually been a tough and long one for me, however nothing worthwhile comes easy as my father would state. Eight months of client prodding has settled for both me and Staci. Staci loved me from our very first meeting. Her partner is a authorities investigator, so Max and Joe have the law in typical. Staci and I had absolutely nothing in common.

I 'd never heard such shocking and revolting things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mother's fucking kids, fathers raping young daughters, females having sex with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, other halves handling troops of randy guys, blacks on whites, old with young, pet dogs on little girls. She had my head swimming in a overload of perverse sex. Max and Joe got along like bros, so I was stuck with Staci. Her stories were constantly about somebody she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found especially troubling was that her vile dreams worked their way into my tame fantasies like an getting into infection, pressing my simple, relatively clean musings of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and suck orgy marathons, typically with me as the included entertainer. I stopped my month-to-month 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, anywhere in your home. After 6 months of Staci's stories, I found out how to lick my own pussy. Staci planted that concept in my head.

Many of our time together was spent with Staci doting over me, doing my hair and cosmetics, giving me pedicures, rubbing me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothes a excellent deal, with Staci making the choices as though she were my closet manager. I used only short gowns at Staci's insistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the best female form. She encouraged me I was beautiful to the extreme, specifically in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfy even when languishing before her with my legs broad 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 comprehensive hot oil massage, and ended with a dab of fragrance. I liked her manicures, however concealing the result from my partner was impossible. My first cunnicure prompted 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 find out that you cheated on me. If I ever get evidence favorable 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 picture what wanting I 'd never ever been born involved. I seriously doubted he would physically harm me, but the thought never ever left my mind. I believed he might require me to undergo a breast reduction or a cliterectomy. Perhaps, he 'd tattoo the word Whore on my forehead. He may fit me with a chastity belt. Staci and I had a good make fun of the possibilities, but it was Max's threatening lecture, unusually enough, that launched Staci's crusade to start me down the road of adulterous affairs.

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