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Three months ago, I was your everyday homemaker and mom of 3-- 2 young boys, Phil, 15 Joey, 13 and a girl of twelve, Sandy. My partner, Maxwell Blake, is a big-shot attorney with the DA's office. Cheating on Max never entered my mind, and most likely never would have had we not moved across the street from Staci and Joe. I was so straight if I masturbated more than as soon as a month, I felt guilty. Staci ended my dullness and made me what I am today. Sex is all I believe about, and no perversion turns me off. In fantasy, I wanted everyone 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 junkie that understands where the dependency will lead, but does not desire help. The risks surpassed the repercussions because the sex was that great. I like Staci for what she's done. Eight months of client prodding has actually paid off for both me and Staci. Staci adored me from our first meeting. Her husband 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 disturbing and her language godawful. In mixed company, I chuckled uneasily at her crude jokes, but the stories she informed me when we were alone left me speechless.

I 'd never heard such stunning and horrible things in my life: S&M piss-freak orgies, mom's fucking sons, dads raping young daughters, women having sex with animals, moms viewing dirty old men molest their daughters and getting off on it, spouses handling troops of randy males, blacks on whites, old with young, pets on little girls. 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 someone she knew or heard about, never about anything she had any direct knowledge of. What I found particularly troubling was that her disgusting fantasies worked their method into my tame dreams like an invading infection, pushing my simple, reasonably clean daydreams of romantic love out replacing them with fuck and draw orgy marathons, often with me as the included performer. I stopped my monthly practice of masturbating in the shower using 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 discovered 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 cosmetics, providing me pedicures, massaging me, dressing and undressing me constantly. We went shopping for clothing a excellent offer, with Staci making the selections as though she were my wardrobe manager. I wore just short gowns at Staci's persistence. Staci worshipped my body, every inch of it. According to Staci, I had the ideal female kind. She persuaded me I was gorgeous to the extreme, especially in between my legs. This took some convincing, however she quickly had me comfortable even when languishing prior to her with my legs wide apart for a vaginal shave or the vaginal area variation of a pedicure-- a cunniecure as she called it. A cannelure started with a fragrant 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 hiding the result from my spouse was impossible. My first cunnicure prompted Max to sit me down for a stern lecture. In the early days of our marital relationship, Max alerted me not to cheat. I remember being incensed at the simple tip. This time, I listened diligently as he stated, Theresa, I'm not the type of man that lives in worry of his wife unfaithful on him. I won't have you followed. I will not question your activities or the way you dress. I will not sleuth or ask questions. You can come and go as you please. , if I ever find out that you cheated on me.. If I ever get proof positive or capture you in the act, I'll make you want you had actually never ever been born. He had never threatened me with divorce. I could only picture what wishing I 'd never ever been born required. I seriously questioned he would physically damage me, however the idea never ever left my mind. I thought he might force me to undergo a breast reduction 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 begin me down the roadway of adulterous affairs.

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