Sensible to Slutty

Full brief underwear - check. Sensible bra - check. Mousy brown hair- check. Average height, average weight, average full stop - check, check, check. If Evelyn had to sum herself in one word, it would be beige. Everything about her was responsible, predictable, safe and boring.

Evelyn felt a growing sense of unease about her lot in life. It was probably because she'd be turning forty. How clichéd. Even her mid-life malady was punctual and unsurprising!

Her days were spent entering data for a company that distributed printer cartridges. The work was monumentally mundane and mind-numbingly beneath her. As an intelligent woman, she could have done anything, but alas she lacked the ambition and drive and, well, this job was secure and meant her bills were paid and food was on the table.

Evelyn yearned for something exciting to happen to her. A cute delivery guy, a small lottery windfall, flowers from a mysterious admirer, anything! Why hadn't it happened yet?

She was pondering this dilemma whilst thumbing through a Woman's Day magazine that a workmate had left in the common room. Ordinarily magazines interested her little. They were full of half- truths, sudsy celebrities and photo-shopped models who'd been airbrushed within an inch of their lives. An article caught her attention, though. It was titled, 'Carpe Diem - Seize the Day & Be The Change.'

The article was by a B-Grade reality star shamelessly self-promoting an up and coming book she'd "written" about holistic health. The actress spruiked the usual clichés one would expect from a narcissistic wannabe. She said, as an actress she had permission to change who she was regularly and how it allowed her to explore aspects of her personality that were dark or naughty. She was able to dip her toes into the muddy waters without having the real life consequences to deal with. She could, she sprouted, 'Have her cake and eat it too.'

The seed was sown and suddenly started to germinate in Evelyn's fertile imagination. She could 'Be The Change'. Why wait for the knight on steed? Why wait for someone else to rescue her? Why be just boring, beige Evelyn when she, if only for a day, be anyone she wanted to be.

Her afternoon at work passed in a flurry. She was on auto -pilot entering the data with her fingers, whilst simultaneously allowing her imagination to run wild. She could be the change! She could be whoever she wanted to be!

This was the project she was looking for, she could feel the melancholic clouds lifting and it felt positively invigorating.

'If I could be anyone, and do ANYTHING, without consequence, who would I be?' She ruminated throughout that afternoon and into the evening, exploring different scenarios and possibilities.

It was after her third wine (how naughty, it's not even her birthday), that she'd made up her mind. She- boring, beige, responsible Evelyn would be the opposite of who she was.

She committed to this change with zeal. It was Friday, and for the first time in her life, she rang in sick and played hooky. This makeover was going to require time!

Evelyn booked an expensive hotel room in the city for the weekend. She eagerly drove to the city, her head filled with fantasies and her panties moist with anticipation.

Determined to be the complete antithesis of her usual self, made her giddy and bubbly with naughty delight. She enthusiastically donned wigs, waxed and tried out countless slutty ensembles before she was satisfied; very satisfied, with her selections.

After a deliciously warm spa and wine, Evelyn prepared herself for a weekend of decadence. She affixed a wig of golden red hair to her hair and tightened a slutty faux leather corset around her slender waist. As Evelyn slid a pair of crotchless knickers on, she let her fingers wander and cooed with pleasure as she felt her slippery desire spread beyond the confines of her soft inner lips and glisten like a peeled mango. One thing was for sure- she was good to go.

She completed the outfit with a micro miniskirt, fishnet stockings and killer heels. Gliding blood red lipstick over her lips she surveyed her handiwork. If a transformation was what she was after, she'd certainly got one. Evelyn stared in disbelief at her reflection, she looked like an absolute slut. Furthermore, she felt like one too. She couldn't wait to prowl the city hunting for a random dick to jump on top of.

To steel her resolve, she adopted a moniker - Roxy. Roxy sounded like the type of girl who was uber confident, and up for a good time. A no-bullshit, pleasure seeker who knew what she wanted, and was determined to get it.

As she strutted into the 'Players Night Club', she could feel the hungry, deviant eyes of the perverted men consuming her. She felt the primal desire emanating from them. She knew they were mind fucking her and she loved it. Just the thought of making so many deposits in so many spank banks made her giddy. As she pictured them going home and wanking themselves with the furiousness of a fiddler's elbow over her slutty form, she felt her pussy engorge and drip pleasure down her inner thigh.

As she sat at the bar, three eager, horny men approached her and offered her a drink. She reminded herself that she was Roxy tonight and that Roxy always got what she desired.

With wanton abandon, she rubbed each man's cock on the outside of his trousers to determine who had the biggest package. The poor pricks didn't know what had hit them. They stood with their mouth agape, barely able to comprehend the brazenness of this horny, eager bitch.

With a determined, assertive tone, she grabbed her chosen man by the tie and pulled him towards her, kissing with him the hunger that only a ramming, raw fuck could satisfy.

The chosen suitor feverishly kissed and bit her neck before making his way up to her ear and growling, "I'm Tom, and I'm going to fuck your brains out."

Roxy groaned with pleasure and threw her leg around his thigh, her hips thrusting and circling with anticipation.

With his large, rough hands, he slid his hand under her skirt as she unzipped his trousers and stroked his throbbing cock on the outside of his boxers. As he journeyed up to her pussy, he felt her wet desire and gasped, "You horny fucking whore, you're up for anything, aren't you, you wet little slut."

"I'm not the only one who's getting wet," she replied as she felt a warm wet pool of pre-cum on his underwear, "You're coming with me, Tom, I've got a hole that needs filling."

Hungrily walking back to the hotel room, Tom threw his arm over her shoulder, reaching around to pinch and pull at her titty. She returned the favour by pushing him against a lamppost and biting his dick through his trousers.

By the time they'd reached her hotel room, Roxy and Tom were dizzy with anticipation and desire. Tom thrust his tongue in Roxy's mouth while simultaneously grabbing her breasts from beneath her corset and kneading them feverishly. Roxy broke free of his kiss and unzipped his trousers, her mouth watering with the desire to have this throbbing piece of meat in her.

She'd barely sucked him when he picked her up and threw her face down on the bed. "You don't want this party to finish yet do you, my beautiful slut? Raise your tight little arse up and let me survey tonight's meal."

Roxy dutifully did as she was commanded. She squealed with delight as he tore her panties off and ate her pussy with ferociousness. His beard was a tantalisingly rough contrast to her smooth pussy lips, the difference causing shockwaves throughout her body.

Crawling forward and turning around, she grabbed Tom by the shoulders and forced him around and on to the bed. "Don't move, I'm getting what I want," she commanded as she thrust herself onto his throbbing, titanium hard dick, one hand pinning his chest down, the other behind her grabbing his swollen, full balls. "If you cum before I do, I'm taking these with me," she menaced squeezing his scrotum with a little more force.

As she rhythmically rose and fell on his member, she teased Tom by shaking her juicy breasts. She could see the crazed, horny look in his eyes and this drove her even wilder. She could feel her sweet lava building up, building up, building up and until woosh. Her desire gushed out of her volcano and showered Tom's crotch. Her determined pussy latched on to Tom's dick like a vice grip, refusing to release its control until she could cum again and again. With each cum she groaned with guttural moans until she collapsed beside him, spent and satisfied.

"Oh no you don't," chastised Tom, "You don't stop until I say you can."

With that, he splayed her thighs and entered her, grabbing her tits and thrusting back and forth like a piston. As she felt beads of sweat dripping from his chest on to hers, she felt a renewed sense of vigour. She joined in the sexual samba as the pressure of their desire rose and rose until it peaked with a crescendo of orgasms and a flood of satiety.

Stroking Tom's chest is the bliss that followed; Evelyn couldn't believe she'd pulled it off, mentally and sexually. She felt as empowered and transformed from a dowdy moth to vibrant butterfly. She faced Tom who was grinning blissfully in his post coital slumber. Roxy and I should hang out more often, she mused.