Just A Seatbelt

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At the start of the day, if someone had suggested that I’d complete the car journey home naked then I would have thought they were mad, but sometimes a situation just presents itself. In truth, I think if it hadn’t happened that day then it would have happened soon enough.

As I sat there, my hands behind the headrest, my back arched away from the seat, and with my eyes closed as I enjoyed the sensations washing over my body, I felt Tony’s hand slide further between my legs. I parted them slightly by way of invitation. Bringing a gasp, his finger touch my clitoris. I let out a sigh and hoped that he’d read my body language as an indication not to stop. Thankfully he read the sign correctly and his hand pressed more firmly, rubbing gently up and down, seemingly absent-mindedly as he concentrated on the road ahead.

I pushed my pelvis up and into his hand as much as I was able to and with each stroke I was becoming more removed from the world and more focussed on Tony’s hand and the pleasure I felt. I wondered if I should ask him to stop, but that was not what I wanted and, with faster and faster movements, I found myself groaning, and then panting frantically as I reached a climax. His hand stayed firmly on me as I pushed myself up and down against him, no longer able to control my own movements.

Finally, with a long shudder, I collapsed down and back into the seat. My eyes were still closed, and I felt Tony’s hand move back up to the top of my thigh. After a minute I opened my eyes and Tony looked over and smiled. I pulled at the seatbelt and leant over to kiss him on the cheek.

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

In Pieces

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“The problem wasn’t getting nude in public, it was that I’d have to cover up so quickly afterwards. Then a friend brought some scissors and desiccated my last item of clothing before my eyes. It was the most liberating thing that has ever happened to me.”

Does It Feel Good?

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She put her hands on my hips to raise herself up again. I jumped at the sensation of her warm hands on my bare skin. It was such a contrast to the still cold steel around my ankles and wrists.

“Now,” she said, “How does that feel.”

Her eyes were sparkling and I felt as if she had admitted me into some kind of inner circle. I wasn’t used to being so… accepted and it made me feel warm inside, but my skin was tingling at the realisation that I was nude and helpless, for the moment at least.

“Even… odder,” I said, “I feel… I feel so naked.”

Lisa smiled as if that was exactly what she wanted.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” she said, “You are naked.”

We both laughed and I took another nervous sip from my glass.

“Here,” she said, and with one hand firmly on the small of my back and another more gently touching my stomach she pushed me gently backwards and I let myself sink down onto the sofa.

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

Out Of Sight

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“The house grounds are large enough that I can usually find somewhere to leave my clothes and just walk. That’s not to say I haven’t had a few close shaves with garden staff and visitors.”

Lessons

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Photo by Romee Strijd

Miss Ashdown watched as Jessica caressed the keys and the piano sang in response. She envied her for her passion and, perhaps a little, for her physique too as she moved up and down the scales. She noticed how Jessica moved her position on the stool to stimulate her body yet further, how she would lean into the piano as if she wanted to climb on top of it, and she could feel the essence of the young woman’s sexuality in every passage she played.

Finally, Jessica was finished and, again, she sat with her eyes closed and her fingers and her toes resting lightly on the keys and pedals. Miss Ashdown broke the spell with a gentle touch of Jessica’s forearm.

“That was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” she told her student.

Jessica opened her eyes and smiled dreamily. Oh, how she wished there really was her mystery man in the audience, ready to make love to and to bring her own performance to a crescendo.

Miss Ashdown smiled back at the girl and waited for her to recover. She watched her young, bare breasts rise and fall, with just the hint of a shudder from deep within. Finally Jessica spoke.

“Miss Ashdown?”

“Yes, Jessica?”

“Does this mean…” she said, looking down at her naked body, “Does this mean I have to take lessons like this from now on?”

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

Maître d

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“We only offer single rooms, and only to single men and women. The hotel is as sex free as it is clothing free. Anyone discovered with another person in their room will be thrown onto the street. If you need to deal with your erection then do so in your own room and do it alone.”

A Seductive Image

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But the main thing I noticed was Mia: by her presence she commanded the space. She was wearing… well, you can probably guess what she was, or rather wasn’t, wearing. I recognised the red heels from the other day and, besides those and her thick black hair, her bare, creamy skin seemed to cast a light on the room. On her hands and forearms were a pair of long, silk gloves, but that was the only part of her skin that was covered.

She had a large, gold-sprayed handbag hooked on the crook of her elbow, an oversized watch on one wrist and a bracelet on the other, and a large braided necklace around her neck with a single stone which hung between her breasts. Long earrings almost reached her shoulders and, to crown it off was, well, a crown, or rather a tiara that sparkled in the intense lighting.

I smiled; the image of her was seductive, sensual, erotic and also comical all at the same time. If she had been wearing a long, flowing evening gown it would have been easy to dismiss her as the new-money wife of a rich footballer. Yet, by being naked beneath all of the accessories, she was offering commentary on money instead of trying to represent it.

I looked at some of the other guests; there were more than a few who were wearing at least one item resembling something that Mia was sneering at: a brash watch, a tasteless necklace, or a “look at me” handbag. Admittedly, no-one else was wearing a tiara.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and I wasn’t the only one. “Amazing, isn’t she?” a voice said from beside me.

I turned around and saw a late middle-aged man in an expensive suit with a neatly trimmed beard and grey hair.

“All those things that many people aspire to and yet, if you removed them, Mia would become more beautiful as each item disappeared.”

He had a point: her nakedness served to highlight just how drab those expensive items were by comparison.

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