CFNF

I Finally Made It

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“Don’t be too hard on her,” Martha said, joining the conversation, “She said she liked you… and it seemed like a fun way to stop you getting your clothes back…” She looked down at me, obviously pleased at the way she’d managed to keep me nude for the entire day.

“And my clothes?” I said. Now I was naked at a party full of strangers and I’d really rather not be.

“They’re around somewhere,” Martha replied with a wink.

“Here,” Sue said from beside me and handed me a bottle of beer, “Glad to see you made it. How was the journey?”

“Don’t you start!” I warned her, provoking a giggle from both Sue and Tan.

“It must be quite cold out there,” Tan said, and without even asking she reached a palm out and pressed it against my still-hard nipple.

“Hey!” I said, although her touch was pleasantly soft and warm.

Kathy seemed to think it was okay to do the same on the other breast.

“Oooh, yes,” she said, “Do let me know if you need warming up.”

The redhead girl looked at the pair enviously. I’d almost forgotten that the whole plan had just been to throw the two of us together, and now we were in a crowd she actually looked disappointed again, especially now there were two girls with their hands on my body.

Read the rest of Take Pride, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

A Special Party

Two naked women with one clothed woman
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“Our clients had very special requirements and they’d already agreed to host the party in the nude. It was only when they found out that the agreement didn’t include me that they started to complain.”

Hanging At Home

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“How come,” I continued, “How come you’re naked?” I didn’t want to offend her by making it sound like it was a bad thing. “I mean, the tattoos are really great, and you look great…” She smiled kindly, but was still going to let me keep digging myself into this hole. “You lost a bet or something?… Or you turned into the Hulk and your clothes didn’t fit and then you turned back?…” I tailed off and Natasha laughed.

“Oh, no,” she said, “I live here. With Georgia.” She tipped her head in the direction of our party host who I’d been introduced to, and then summarily bored witless earlier.

“Oh,” I said, and was about to add “I see…” but then realised that it didn’t explain anything at all.

“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.

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

Comfortably Nude

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shorthair-babes:

Ekaterina

When I first met Natasha I believe I experienced the same emotion that everyone does when first meeting her in the comfort of her own home; that emotion being surprise, or possibly shock, depending on one’s disposition.

The party seemed to be going the way that parties often run for me, that of being introduced to new people, not really knowing what to say, and then being rescued by someone (or maybe whoever I was talking to was the one being rescued) and then I’d be introduced to a new unsuspecting victim of inanity. This was no different, although as it was my first visit to the States I was being introduced and rescued even more thoroughly than usual as everyone wanted to meet “the English girl”, and then quickly realised that said meeting wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

But, as I said, this party was following a similar line to many, and I was running out of conversation with the quite charming and far too confident young American man I was talking to as, in the nick of time, I was tapped on the shoulder by my host for the week, Theresa, and a shout in my ear.

“Rupes! How ya doin’ there Rupes!” It wasn’t a question. “You must meet Natasha. You two just have to meet!” I rolled my eyes slightly as soon Natasha would discover, as many had already discovered that evening, that I was not the person anyone “had to meet”.

I turned around, and found myself, rarely for someone of my small height, even in my two inch heels, looking straight into the eyes of Natasha.

Natasha was petite, she was blonde, and she was smiling and offering me her hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Natasha,” she said, her eyes fixed on me all the time.

“I’m Rupa. Pleased to meet you,” I replied, taking her delicate hand in my own and trying to appear confident as I shook it.

“Oooh, I love your English accent,” Natasha said with a smile. I had heard that plenty of times tonight already and I wondered if Americans were taught to say that at school.

“I love your, er,” I said as I looked her up and down, desperate to pay a compliment in return. “I love your tattoos.” Natasha had a magnificent set of multi-coloured tattoos: on her arms, on her shoulders, on the tops of her feet and her ankles, spiralling up her leg and thigh and across her stomach. Oh yes, now I remember the important part of describing Natasha, and why I was surprised, or even shocked, at meeting her. I’m able to describe Natasha’s tattoos in such detail because Natasha was entirely naked.

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

Growing Up

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bodydiscourse:

Photo: Maiku Bokeh
Model: Glass Olive

2015

“Just a sec,” Lisa said, and she picked up my bundle of clothes and left the room with them. That answered the question of putting them back on without even asking it, I guess.

I heard her go upstairs and then a minute later she reappeared with a rectangular cardboard box.

“Here,” she said, “I’ve got these for you.”

She handed me the box. It looked like a shoebox, and I hoped it had more than shoes inside.

I opened the box: it did only have shoes inside. Gorgeous, strappy stilettos; light cream colour with sparkling insets.

“These are for me?” I asked looking at them.

“Just to borrow,” Lisa said as she made us both a gin and tonic, “Do you like them?”

“They’re gorgeous!” I said. And so much more glamourous than anything I owned.

“Here you go,” Lisa said, handing me my gin and tonic. I took a sip and waited for the alcohol to have some effect: hopefully it would help me to get over the discomfort of sitting around naked.

Lisa put her drink on the table beside her and took one of the shoes out of the box.

“Here,” she said, kneeling in front of me. She lifted my ankle with her hand and slipped the shoe onto my foot. I giggled at the tickling sensation as she fastened the thin leather buckle.

“And the other one,” she said, “I didn’t realise you were so ticklish.” Her eyes sparkled and she grabbed my foot with her hand and I almost spilt my gin and tonic as I wriggled in a fit of giggles.

She pushed the other shoe onto my foot and fastened the buckle carefully and then stood in front of me.

“Gorgeous,” she said, looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile, but I felt even more naked now I had the stilettos on.

“Can you stand in them?”

I pushed myself up off of the sofa and Lisa held my wrists while I stood, still trying to avoid spilling my drink. She released my wrists and took a step back looking me up and down. I was a half an inch taller than her now.

“You were made for them,” she said with a grin. I took another nervous sip from my glass; it was helping to quell my nerves a little, but I wished Tina would hurry up with some clothes.

I looked at the table again: there were a lot of glasses, and a lot of drinks. Lisa had mentioned something about expecting twenty or thirty people that evening but we were in no danger of running short of alcohol.

My eyes returned to the handcuffs again and Lisa followed my gaze.

“What are they for?” I couldn’t help but ask, feeling emboldened by the first flush of inebriation.

“We just play around with them,” Lisa said, “Let me show you.”

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

Work Clothes

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As I said before, I’m up for anything, but I was surprised that everyone else was too. Anyone who really objected could take the week off and, to break us in gently, the first day was just going to be down to underwear.

Now, there was a fairly new cute guy in the office, Kieran, who I’d been making eyes at for a while, but he was so shy that he just blushed. All the secretaries flirted with him, but I think I was the only junior partner who did as well. I suppose I was the only female partner anywhere near his age, but he didn’t seem to know how to react to the attention from a senior. I was having quite a lot of fun with him.

So I had an easy challenge for day one of filming: to see if I could make his boxer shorts bulge. Because I knew that, shy boy that he was, he would be wearing the biggest piece of underwear he could find. Actually, why hadn’t he just ducked out of the whole thing? I would have put money on him skipping the week, but there you go.

Monday came around and I went all-out: white lace bra, knickers, stockings and suspenders, some fantastic delicate white heels, and then a simple skirt and blouse over the top for the journey into work. I arrived at the office and was disappointed to see the receptionist was fully dressed. A young woman holding a clipboard came over to meet me.

“You must be Jennifer,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow. How did she know my name?

She smiled. “We’ve been reviewing the other program you were in. I recognised you from that.”

I smiled back: so she knew who she was dealing with.

“How come the receptionists are all dressed up?” I asked her.

“Oh, that’s how we always do things,” she said, “We can’t have people wandering in from outside and being met by girls in their underwear.” She giggled. I couldn’t see why we couldn’t have that, but that was me. “And then when you get into the office we lock the door behind you. Just in case someone tries to wander in.” I shrugged; it made no difference to me either way. She continued to explain the setup.

“We have a few screens around here for you to undress, and I’ll keep your outer clothes until the end of the day.” She showed me around the corner to couple of temporary screens in the corner of the room. “Put your things in here,” she told me and handed over a cardboard box with my name on the top.

I went behind the screen, took off my skirt and my blouse and put them in the box. Holding the box in my hands I stepped out. I saw her eyes go wide as she looked my stockings and lace underwear up and down. There are no two ways about it: I looked absolutely stunning.

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