A Secret Habit

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“She felt satisfied: she may not have the full, red lips, the dark eye make-up, or high heels, but her figure was just as good. She felt that, in another life, if she had a man then there would be no reason for him to look at anyone else. Still, that...

She felt satisfied: she may not have the full, red lips, the dark eye make-up, or high heels, but her figure was just as good. She felt that, in another life, if she had a man then there would be no reason for him to look at anyone else. Still, that was in the realms of fantasy, and she wasn’t exactly sure what the appeal of keeping a man was in any case.

Sarah’s reverie was broken by a sharp knock at the door.

“Sister Sarah?” the voice from the other side called.

Sarah suddenly panicked. At least she had remembered to lock the door: there was no way anyone could discover her like this.

“Sarah?” the voice called again with another knock, “Are you in there? The Reverend Mother wants to see you right away.”

Sarah looked around: she couldn’t keep the Reverend Mother waiting, not for the time it would take her to change back into her own underwear. Hurriedly, she pulled her habit over her head. She looked down: it was long enough that it covered her feet and hide her stockings. She bundled her white underwear up and pushed it back into the drawer.

Read the rest of the story in The Rules of the Convent

Too Good To Hide

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fuckyeahrussianbabes:
“Наташа by Ilya Golovin 🇷🇺
”
“I looked down at my feet and shoes. I did have nice feet, and the thin stilettos did set my legs off nicely.
“That’s why I stay barefoot as well,” Natasha continued, “Can you imagine what I’d look...Наташа by Ilya Golovin

I looked down at my feet and shoes. I did have nice feet, and the thin stilettos did set my legs off nicely.

“That’s why I stay barefoot as well,” Natasha continued, “Can you imagine what I’d look like in those heels? The boys would think I was begging for it.”

Natasha had a point. Somehow, she was just naked, or nude, or whatever she might want to call it, but it wasn’t like a stripper was nude. She was sexual, but not just sexual. It’s hard to explain, but somehow sexuality wasn’t what defined her nakedness.

“But you must get guys chatting you up all the time?” I asked her, and that brought another of those quizzical head tilts. I translated to American in my head and rephrased it. “Hitting on you,” I added.

“Oh, well, sometimes,” Natasha answered, “But most of them are too scared. I mean: where do you start? As long as boys don’t get into a pack-hunting frame of mind then I’m fine, and, as I said, people here are friends of friends. And besides,” she added, “I usually mention my boyfriend Martin over there.” A nod of her head indicated a towering figure with a stereotypical American football player build across the room. “And that puts them off the idea pretty quickly.” She giggled and it was obvious she quite enjoyed handling the reactions her nudity provoked.

“And he doesn’t mind, everyone seeing you?…” I asked her.

Natasha shook her head. “Not at all, or at least he says he doesn’t, and he knows he has to accept me as I am. And I was fully dressed when we first met too, so it’s not like this is a thing he’s into or anything weird like that.” I couldn’t help thinking it was something weird already, but I wasn’t sure that I should think that.

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

Naked Inspiration

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sexynaughtybits:
“Nasten'ka on Instagram
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“As she said this, and as Jessica exhaled, Miss Ashdown’s fingers, flat on top of Jessica’s, slipped into the white knickers. Jessica felt the fabric sliding over her hips as their interlocked hands pushed...

As she said this, and as Jessica exhaled, Miss Ashdown’s fingers, flat on top of Jessica’s, slipped into the white knickers. Jessica felt the fabric sliding over her hips as their interlocked hands pushed them down onto the floor. Jessica’s breath shuddered again but somehow she resisted the impulse to try to cover herself. She concentrated on the image of the concert hall, of standing naked on the stage as if no-one was there.

“You imagine his strong hands, running up and down your naked body,” the teacher continued, their hands continuing to move together, “His eyes devour your image as he remains fixed in his seat, desperately trying to control his breathing lest he be discovered watching you while you arouse yourself, naked on the stage.”

Miss Ashdown paused. Jessica’s hands were now moving by themselves and Miss Ashdown was merely following their movements with hers.

“Finally, with one last stretch, you feel you need to release this energy, to show him just a hint of the woman that is bursting to get out of you.” With that, she lifted Jessica’s hands above her and Jessica arched her back as if she were stretching after awaking in the morning.

“You’re a beautiful young girl, Jessica,” Miss Ashdown whispered, “So now let’s see how you play.”

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

Waiting For An Outfit

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jai-envie-detoi: “ *** Photographer: Davide Padovan ” “I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto...

Photographer: Davide Padovan

I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto the back of a chair.

I’d honestly never felt so self-conscious, sat there, suddenly nude. Lisa sat back beside me in her PVC dress and boots.

“What…” I began, “What am I going to be wearing?”

Lisa looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you know Tina?” she asked me. I nodded, although I only barely knew the girl she was talking about.

“She has something for you to put on,” she told me.

“And where’s Tina?”

“She’s on her way. Or at least she said she’d get her early.”

I looked wistfully at my clothes crumpled on the chair: I’d have preferred to have gotten undressed after my outfit had arrived, not before. Then I glanced up at the table across the room, laid out with drinks and empty glasses. I noticed what looked like a pair of handcuffs on the far corner and then averted my eyes in embarrassment. I don’t know why.

Read the rest of A Very Grown-Up Party, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

Coffee With A View

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““It does, yes,” Cassandra replied, “Sue and I always dress in pretty much the same way.” She looked down at herself and I hoped Jim had enough of her in shot to capture her pair of very short and very torn denim shorts, heeled sandals, and a baggy...

“It does, yes,” Cassandra replied, “Sue and I always dress in pretty much the same way.” She looked down at herself and I hoped Jim had enough of her in shot to capture her pair of very short and very torn denim shorts, heeled sandals, and a baggy white t-shirt. It’s not often you see such a gorgeous pair of legs on a business program.

“But that’s not the whole story, is it?” I prompted Cassandra. “There’s one more piece to the puzzle of how you’ve managed to pull in customers from miles around?”

Cassandra smiled again. We had pre-planned how the conversation would flow, but Cassandra was great at improvising the words.

“Indeed, Tricia. We’d had this idea of serving in the nude but, until the appeal comes through, we can’t do that. But we don’t want anyone coming to a café called ‘Naked Women in Shorts’ and being disappointed, so we work dressed like this.”

On cue Cassandra grabs the bottom of her t-shirt and pulls it swiftly and smoothly over her head. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and I stare for a second at her perfect, small breasts. Her long hair falls over her bare shoulders and it occurs to me that if the café business ever fails she could easily turn to modelling. She’s almost impossibly thin and the denim shorts cover so little she’s as close to being naked as she can be, and still be legal. I’m suddenly insanely jealous of the combination of brains, beauty and youth.

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

Too Tempting Not To

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“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...

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 stilettoes 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

Rain On Bare Skin

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“I looked around: it was better to be with Mia than to wait here naked for her to return. I knew that compromise was not something that Mia understood. No wonder she was single. I scuttled after her.
The umbrella covered our heads but I could feel...

I looked around: it was better to be with Mia than to wait here naked for her to return. I knew that compromise was not something that Mia understood. No wonder she was single. I scuttled after her.

The umbrella covered our heads but I could feel the rain splashing against my ankles. We walked in silence and I resigned myself to following Mia around until she had decided that my ordeal had lasted long enough. Except that, for her, this wasn’t an ordeal: it was an experiment, and an experience to be savoured.

“I envy you,” she said, “It’s wonderful to be nude in the rain.”

I could have strangled her: if it’s that great then why didn’t you just do it and leave me as I was?

We arrived in the main square. There were a handful of people, apparently tourists, and all holding umbrellas. The rain was too heavy to be outside without one. Some of them looked in our direction and pointed and muttered to each other. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to huddle in on myself.

“Are you cold?” Mia asked me.

“No,” I said, “I just don’t want to be here.”

But that didn’t seem to matter to Mia. Maybe I should have claimed to feel the chill and hope for some sympathy, but it still felt very warm despite the rain.

We kept walking. We appeared to be heading directly towards a young couple looking at a guide book. They noticed us when we were only ten paces away and I could see the surprise in their eyes as a naked woman walking towards them in the rain.

Read the rest of Interview With An Artist, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts