I was out of ideas for levelling up today, so while I was working I popped another button. You could definitely have seen a bit of bra, if you were my computer monitor, that is, because whenever I left my desk and as soon as five-thirty came around I twisted it back up again.
Tourist Attraction
“I’d heard about a farm girl in a nearby town who was naked in all but the worst weather, but I never believed the stories until I saw her with my own eyes.”
Exhibitionist Diary: Tue 18th September 2018
StandardToday I started with the button undone, and lasted the whole day that way. It’s a bigger deal than you’d think because I have to say hello to everyone else on the way to my desk. I’m an accountant and there are a few older guys in the office (I’m 26, by the way), but even they didn’t notice anything. But I did work with a bit of a smile on my face, like I had a secret or something. I’m such an idiot sometimes.
Exhibitionist Diary: Mon 17th September 2018
StandardIt’s the start of the new regime, but it’s not like I’m suddenly going to walk around naked. So guess what I did today? While I was at work I carefully unbuttoned the top of my blouse. Stop laughing at the back. Every journey begins with a single step etc etc.
I work in an office, so it was only my computer screen that saw anything really, and I don’t think it cares. I mean, it’s not that I’m completely unattractive, even if I’m nothing special, but unless someone’s hacked my webcam then I had no real audience. (And if someone has hacked my webcam they must have fallen asleep from boredom long before now.)
Oh, but I did make it all the way home that way. One tube and a bus journey, and disappointingly I don’t think a single person noticed.
Exhibitionist Diary: Sun 16th September 2018
StandardI’ll start by introducing myself. My name’s Kate, and I’m very much curious about exhibitionism. When I say “curious” I mean I’m not only curious to read about it, and hunt out photos of men and women nude in public places, but curious about what it feels like to actually do it.
The problem is that I’m also a bit of a coward. Okay, I’m a lot of a coward. So I’m starting this to keep track of my thoughts as I experiment and (hopefully) I can look back on this day and wonder what it is I was worrying about.
Wish me luck.
Remember Last Time?
Standard
Malcolm moved his hand a few inches up Alison’s leg, working itself between the loose folds of her skirt. Still, the fabric lay across her lap, but Alison’s heart beat harder as Malcom’s hand stopped on the top of her thigh.
Alison took another sip from her drink. Malcolm watched again as she reached for her glass and her top fell away from her chest then, as she put her arm down again, it again barely covered her. His eyes followed the line of bare skin from her neck, down her chest, and across her stomach. He imagined his lips kissing every inch of bare skin he could see. It had been months since he had last kissed her breasts, and suddenly he could think of nothing else.
“Do you remember last time we were here?” Malcolm asked Alison. She raised an eyebrow, too nervous to articulate words. “Back on our second date, you were wearing a blouse or something, and I think I tried to put my hand inside your top.”
Alison gave a small laughed at the memory. She had slapped at Malcolm’s hand at the time: it was too early in their relationship for her to give in that easily.
Malcolm reached over and put his hand on the top of her breast. “I think I was trying to distract you with a kiss,” he said, and he leaned towards her and their lips met. Alison’s eyes closed and she felt Malcolm’s hand move down her breast to cup her nipple. She gasped a little, but the kiss continued.
Read the rest of Re-Kindled Desires, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF
Feel The Music
Standard
“Hmmm,” Miss Ashdown said, “So how do we tap this…. well of sexuality… I suppose it worked for me, so… Lift your arms up above your head for me again, draw a deep breath and close your eyes.” Jessica did so and felt one of Miss Ashdown’s hands rest lightly on her stomach and the other on the small of her back. “Now breathe gently and deeply and try to imagine you’re standing on the stage, ready to practice for a big concert tonight. You just want to loosen up and get used to the surroundings before you play in front of an audience.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “And since the place is deserted you’ve snuck onto the stage in your underwear.”
Jessica stood, her arms above her, her eyes closed, and barely restrained a giggle. Miss Ashdown felt her stomach move in and out with her breathing, and then continued her story.
“But there’s one thing that you notice, that you’re not supposed to notice. There’s someone sitting in the back row, in the dark, and he’s someone you’ve been trying to attract the attention of for quite some time.” Jessica blushed again. “He was walking through and he saw a beautiful young woman walk onto the stage in her underwear and start to stretch, and he just had to stay and watch, very quietly.”
Jessica’s breathing continued but Miss Ashdown felt a tremble in her stomach. “You can’t let him know that you’ve seen him in the shadows; that would ruin everything. So you decide to make the most of the opportunity that’s fallen into your lap. You decide that you’re going to give him the most passionate performance of your life and you know that, after this, he’ll be at the show tonight, and he’ll come and find you afterwards, and you’ll know that, if you want him, you can have him.”
Read the rest of The Pianist, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts
