Month: April 2020

Receptionist

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“Even a nudist hotel needs a receptionist and I thought: why not? But I forgot that I’d also be the one answering the front door.”

Exhibitionist Diary – Saturday 4th April 2020

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The park run this morning felt good, and it actually feels like Spring! Mel was in a good mood too.

Then on the way back I bumped into Alison at the end of the road. She was alone and said we hadn’t done anything for a while so we must catch up. For some reason I suggested coming over to mine for dinner next weekend, which she said sounded nice, and now I’m not sure why I suggested it. I can’t invite anyone else because I don’t know what’s going to happen, and it is going to be a bit weird if it’s just the pair of them.

Exhibitionist Diary – Friday 3rd April 2020

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What a mad week. I called it a day at 7pm, came through the door, stripped down to nothing and ordered a takeaway and had a glass of wine. And then when the takeaway came I gave the guy a treat and didn’t bother getting dressed to open the door. I can’t even imagine doing that two years ago, but it was only a bit of a buzz rather than feeling like a big deal. So much has happened.

Looking Good In Heels

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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

The Wrong Train

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“It seemed like a fun dare: my boyfriend took my clothes to the next stop and I got the train after. It was the start of the line and always quiet. The problem was I got on the wrong train; the one that didn’t stop. I saw him standing with my clothes in his arms as we flew through the station.”