“Take me, for example,” she said, “How do you think I can judge what is good to publish?” She smiled at me, not expecting an answer. “Do you think I do it by locking myself in my office and having boring sex?”

I blushed at the idea. I wasn’t used to talking so frankly, which, frankly, didn’t bode well for my writing.

Elisa leaned forwards and looked me in the eyes. “Do I look like I have boring sex?”

My mouth opened to make a noise but nothing came out, but she certainly didn’t look like a woman who had boring sex. Her semi-open blouse, delicate jewellery and a figure-hugging skirt with a split high up a stockinged thigh told me that her sex was anything but boring. I suddenly felt very plain and dowdy in my buttoned cotton dress with its flowery pattern.

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

“Stand up.” I did as I was told. She began to unfasten my belt and then looked down at my feet. I’d kicked my trainers off when I’d come into her house, out of habit, although I guess it wasn’t necessary since Lisa was wearing her boots indoors.

“Socks?” she said, “Really?” I laughed. It wasn’t so strange to be wearing socks!

She rolled up my trouser leg an inch and pulled at my sock, tugging it off my raised foot, and then performed the same routine with the other leg.

I remained standing and she unzipped my jeans and hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled down. I had the second surprise in as many minutes as I realised she was taking my knickers with them.

“I…” I began to protest.

“Sssh,” she said, “We need to start from the ground up.”

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.

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

“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