New Direction

For no single reason she could ever subsequently explain, Scarlett simply stepped from the shower one morning and set about radically altering her life. I'm tired of this dull daily routine, she thought. I want to behave differently and have new experiences. And how do you intend to go about that? enquired her subconscious. Hadn't got that far, admitted Scarlett. Tell you what, just follow your instincts and do what feels right at the time, take each situation as it comes and don't overanalyse, suggested the inner voice. Seemed like a plan.

"Wow!" mutter at least three co-workers appreciatively when she enters the office; sotto voce obviously, overt objectification being rightly frowned upon. Not that Scarlett was previously dowdy or unkempt, her customary scraped-back ponytail hair, trouser suit and flatties 'style' serve the intentional purpose of suppressing any suggestion of femininity in favour of a strictly business-like and slightly scary outward appearance.

Scarlett has worn this armour-like outfit since starting with the firm. Since her professionalism is unimpeachable and long gone the days when bosses dictated sartorial choices it has gone unremarked and uncelebrated.

Until this dramatic transformation. Scarlett's glossy hair swings silkily as she strides across the floor in heels which emphasise her legs, altering her posture to subtly emphasise a hitherto hidden shapely figure. Red nails match red lips, mascara accentuates big blue eyes. Other less tangible changes will become evident as the day proceeds.

During her first meeting Aaron, an important client who has encountered Scarlett before, is initially taken aback by her outward metamorphosis. Although momentarily distracted by tantalising glimpses of female thigh he correctly guesses this is nothing so crude as a seduction. Not yet anyway.

Meanwhile, she covertly reassesses Aaron, not her usual physical type, which leans towards Southern Mediterranean - hello Greek and Italian guys. In contrast, he's more of a Scandinavian archetype, fair of complexion, the physique of a runner, not (thankfully) a gym bunny. Most of all, Scarlett is disconcertingly aware, fanciable, evidenced by a familiar twinge between her thighs. Where previously she'd have repressed such a response, Scarlett discovers herself open to persuasion. perhaps even coercion. Quite where the latter idea springs from is unclear.

Fortunately, the attraction is shared, and despite expecting a rebuff Aaron suggests dinner later. To his amazement she readily accepts. Why not? thinks Scarlett. He's an attractive guy. Time to be guided by my instincts.

Their date goes well. Is it a date.? What does the quaint term mean these days? Amid the confusion, Scarlett becomes certain of one thing. Wholly out of character, she wants sex, urgently and ardently. Anything else, a personal connection, is a bonus.

Fortunately, Aaron is an engaging companion. Honest too.

"Until this moment," he confesses, "I'm not the only one who found you.... well, to be frank, a little intimidating."

"That was partly the intention," admits Scarlett, two glasses of wine down, in vino veritas. "Keep everyone at arm's length. Work-related interaction only."

"So, why the sudden alteration?" Truthfully having no idea, Scarlett deflects the question and Aaron is astute enough not to push too far, too soon. There's a spark between them though and another date is arranged for the weekend.

Back home, in the middle of a session with her favourite vibrator, Scarlett's subconscious inexplicably switches from her usual fantasies of straight intercourse to - confusing and embarrassing but no denying its lubricious effect - submission. Her subsequent orgasm is the best in ages.

What to expect when Saturday comes? Aaron, up for anything, is certainly not disappointed when the two meet at a bar. Scarlett's dress leaves little to the imagination.

"What do you fancy doing tonight?" he enquires. You, thinks Scarlett, lowering her lashes coquettishly.

"I'm happy to let you choose," she replies eventually, voice redolent with promise. Aaron correctly interprets the unspoken invitation. Tonight, he'll take charge. Best to be sure though.

"You want me to decide? Are we talking minor choices, like where to eat, or big decisions?"

"Everything, including sex."

"We're having sex - on a first date?"

"If you say so, yes."

"I most definitely do."

Drinks left unfinished on the bar the pair hurry to his house. Hardly able to keep their hands off each other in the back of the cab, once inside they excitedly explore each other's bodies. Aaron takes the initiative, grasps her wrists and guides Scarlett's hands to the top of her head.

"Keep them there until I say otherwise." Scarlett gives him an erotically charged look, runs her tongue slowly across red lips and complies. She's never acquiesced so readily before, Aaron's never dared be so overtly dominant.

"Would you like to put your cock in my mouth?" Scarlett enquires.

"Quite possibly, when I wish," he replies brusquely, retaining control of the narrative. Aaron lifts Scarlett's skirt to her waist, exposing flawless thighs and tiny panties, already desire-damp at the crotch. Slowly pulls them down, taking his time to reveal her intimate treasures. "Right off," he instructs, and she daintily lifts each high heel in turn.

Encouraged by this prompt obedience, Aaron crouches to view her dewily presented pussy. Grabs her bum cheeks with both hands, pulls Scarlett forward and sets his lips and tongue to work. This is good, so good, thinks Scarlett, wriggling her hips and clutching at her hair, slave to the glorious sexual electricity surging through her lower body. Aaron easily infiltrates a finger into the moist slot, accelerating her sexual pleasure. It proves almost impossible for Scarlett to remain passive, yet following his instructions proves strangely liberating. And mightily arousing.

"Oh, Christ, I'm close to coming," she gasps.

"Not yet, I haven't granted permission. Kneel on the bed". At once frustrated and thrilled, Scarlett obeys. Anything to speed the path to gratification. As Aaron intended, this lewd position accentuates the alluring vulnerability of her bare bottom, pushed into inviting prominence to use as he desires.

Without warning Aaron's hand strikes Scarlett's pale cheeks, rapidly rendering her beautiful buttocks a hot, rosy red. He pushes two digits back into her softly gaping sex, eliciting a primal moan in response. Scarlett has discovered the joys of spanking.

"I'll allow you one decision."

"Please fuck me." Hot, and horny as hell, dignity and decorum surrendered to the moment, Scarlett is reduced to pleading. No slow, sensual build-up, driven by desire and in a hurry.

"Fuck you? I just did, with my fingers."

"Not enough, I want your cock."

"Where? Pussy, arse?"

"Not up my bum, too scared. Pussy please, right up inside me, I need to come."

"I was considering taking my belt to you..."

"No!" Scarlett is horrified, "Too sore." But the thought alone sets her libido into overdrive. Maybe, in future...

"Then I'm going to fuck your pussy until you orgasm, until you scream, until you can scarcely walk."

"Do me from behind," she urges, wondering from what part of her brain this lewd language is emanating. This was supposed to be a change of lifestyle, not personality. Has her willing submission uncovered a slutty alter ego?

Scarlett feels his toned abdomen press against her still hotly stinging cheeks, thrilling at the power behind Aaron's thrusts as he impales her on his pulsing cock. Gasping at the force of this thrillingly masculine invasion, she wriggles to accommodate the full length and take him deeper. Abruptly Aaron withdraws, flips Scarlett onto her back and lifts her legs high and wide. Moves purposefully between her thighs, forcing his rock-hard rod back into her gaping honeypot. She squirms in blissful abandon, squeezing her boobs to heighten the excitement. The force of their lust-charged coupling is almost scary. In the space of hours, she's segued from office prude - all work and no play make for a dull girl - to licentious libertine. All it took was to let go. Inevitably, they exultantly come together.

"I still don't know why?" muses Scarlett, sometime later, still weak at the knees from climaxing so intensely and not yet trusting her balance to stand.

"Why what?"

"I suddenly decided to live on the wild side."

"Worth it though." Aaron smiles conspiratorially.

"Absolutely." Scarlett gives a contented sigh.

"Then it doesn't matter. Go with the flow."

"So," Scarlett's voice is husky, "about that belt..."