Oh dear, Susan thought to herself, bad Susan. No Susan. And then she started chuckling. Because if no-one could see them… why wear them at all?

“Are you having fun in there? Dare I ask?…” Marian’s voice came from outside.

“Just buttoning up!” Susan lied, standing still naked. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she picked up her old knickers and bra and shoved them into the flip-top bin in the corner of the changing room. She looked herself in the eye in the mirror. “You’re really doing this,” she whispered, and picked up the coat, put her arms in the sleeves, and carefully buttoned up all but the top two and the bottom two buttons. With the belt tied it was secure, and she looked down at her old shoes. Not long for you now, she thought as she slipped them on, wishing she could take Marian’s stilettos instead.

Susan examined herself briefly in the mirror. Nothing appeared different from the way she had looked when she came in. She could just as well be wearing underwear, a low-cut top and a short skirt… She could be, but she wasn’t.

Read the rest of the story in Changing Rooms

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.”

Miss Ashdown felt Jessica’s breathing quicken: the fantasy seemed to be working. She continued.

“Now, drop your arms by your side, but keep your eyes closed. Don’t leave that auditorium and, whatever happens, don’t open your eyes until I tell you.”

Miss Ashdown took her hands off of Jessica’s torso and the student lowered her arms, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing deep. She was almost starting to drift in her imagination when she felt a pinch in the small of her back, and then Miss Ashdown’s hands pushed her unfastened bra off of her shoulders and down her arms and she heard it drop to the floor. Her breath shuddered and it was an effort of will not to open her eyes and close her arms across her chest to cover her breasts.

Jessica couldn’t remember the last time another person had seen her breasts. Her nipples hardened in response to that thought, and even more as she felt the cool air. Miss Ashdown’s voice was soft in her ear. “You can almost hear a gasp from the back of the concert hall as the object of your desire leans forwards to take in the sight of your naked chest. He can’t believe he isn’t dreaming. You want him to imagine what it would feel like to touch your skin, to feel your thin waist within his firm hands.”

Read the rest of Piano Lessons, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts

“No,” Natasha said, “I just… prefer it this way. I used to hang about in the house naked when I was by myself, and then Georgia would come home and find me like it and at first she thought it was weird, and then she got used to it, and then I’d completely forget about it and answer the door to some friends without putting anything on first, and then they’d get used to it too, and now I’m pretty much naked all the time, unless there are a lot of strangers around.”

“Oh,” I said, as if I understood, but obviously I didn’t really understand at all. Natasha smiled again.

“Most of the people here I know, and Georgia usually tells other people what to expect. And it’s my place so I can do what I like, eh? People don’t have to stay.”

I couldn’t disagree with that, although I still couldn’t really see why that meant being naked. Natasha was so comfortable as she was that I knew she wasn’t just doing it as a one-off. I can be pretty self-centred sometimes, but even I couldn’t believe it was all a trick to freak out the English girl.

“But, but,” I stuttered, “But don’t you feel odd, with everyone staring at you?”

Natasha smiled. She’d been asked that question dozens of times before, of course.

“Look around,” she said, and I complied, “Do you see many people staring?” I did see a couple of people staring, actually, and a couple of young guys looked away as my eyes met theirs, but it wasn’t as if we were the focus of attention in the room by any means. “See? And those guys were looking at you anyway, the Asian bombshell in the tight dress and high heels. They grew tired of looking at me ages ago, but you’re an unknown, and their imaginations are running riot trying to imagine how it would feel to put their hands around that tiny waist of yours, and wondering how those big breasts of yours will look without a bra and dress to support them.” I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “What’s there to imagine about these tiny things?” Natasha continued, and rubbed her nipples and her small breasts wobbled in response. “No, they’ve been looking at you the whole time we’ve been talking.”

Read the rest of Dressed In Tattoos, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts