My body tingled as I glanced at the onlookers. I saw photos being taken and, this time, there was no doubt that I was the one drawing attention. I grinned and began to wave my body to the music again, revelling in the feeling of the cool air on my bare skin.

Sue let go of my hand and Martha released the other one taking my bra with her. She handed it to Kathy, still walking hand-in-hand with Tan behind us, and she pushed it into Martha’s rucksack along with the rest of my clothes.

Sue and Martha had dropped their hands to their sides, but I wasn’t done waving. I had been a cheerleader at school and I moved well to music. And besides, my breasts looked amazing when I held my hands above my head.

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

“Hmmm,” Miss Ashdown said, “So how do we tap this…. well of sexuality… I suppose it worked for me, so… Lift your arms up above your head for me again, draw a deep breath and close your eyes.” Jessica did so and felt one of Miss Ashdown’s hands rest lightly on her stomach and the other on the small of her back. “Now breathe gently and deeply and try to imagine you’re standing on the stage, ready to practice for a big concert tonight. You just want to loosen up and get used to the surroundings before you play in front of an audience.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “And since the place is deserted you’ve snuck onto the stage in your underwear.”

Jessica stood, her arms above her, her eyes closed, and barely restrained a giggle. Miss Ashdown felt her stomach move in and out with her breathing, and then continued her story.

“But there’s one thing that you notice, that you’re not supposed to notice. There’s someone sitting in the back row, in the dark, and he’s someone you’ve been trying to attract the attention of for quite some time.” Jessica blushed again. “He was walking through and he saw a beautiful young woman walk onto the stage in her underwear and start to stretch, and he just had to stay and watch, very quietly.”

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.”

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

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

“Hmmm,” Miss Ashdown said, “So how do we tap this…. well of sexuality… I suppose it worked for me, so… Lift your arms up above your head for me again, draw a deep breath and close your eyes.” Jessica did so and felt one of Miss Ashdown’s hands rest lightly on her stomach and the other on the small of her back. “Now breathe gently and deeply and try to imagine you’re standing on the stage, ready to practice for a big concert tonight. You just want to loosen up and get used to the surroundings before you play in front of an audience.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “And since the place is deserted you’ve snuck onto the stage in your underwear.”

Jessica stood, her arms above her, her eyes closed, and barely restrained a giggle. Miss Ashdown felt her stomach move in and out with her breathing, and then continued her story.

“But there’s one thing that you notice, that you’re not supposed to notice. There’s someone sitting in the back row, in the dark, and he’s someone you’ve been trying to attract the attention of for quite some time.” Jessica blushed again. “He was walking through and he saw a beautiful young woman walk onto the stage in her underwear and start to stretch, and he just had to stay and watch, very quietly.”

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.”

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

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