Looking Good In Heels

Standard

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

Waiting For Tina

Standard

Photographer: Davide Padovan

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

Nude Service

Standard

“It does, yes,” Cassandra replied, “Sue and I always dress in pretty much the same way.” She looked down at herself and I hoped Jim had enough of her in shot to capture her pair of very short and very torn denim shorts, heeled sandals, and a baggy white t-shirt. It’s not often you see such a gorgeous pair of legs on a business program.

“But that’s not the whole story, is it?” I prompted Cassandra. “There’s one more piece to the puzzle of how you’ve managed to pull in customers from miles around?”

Cassandra smiled again. We had pre-planned how the conversation would flow, but Cassandra was great at improvising the words.

“Indeed, Tricia. We’d had this idea of serving in the nude but, until the appeal comes through, we can’t do that. But we don’t want anyone coming to a café called ‘Naked Women in Shorts’ and being disappointed, so we work dressed like this.”

On cue Cassandra grabs the bottom of her t-shirt and pulls it swiftly and smoothly over her head. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and I stare for a second at her perfect, small breasts. Her long hair falls over her bare shoulders and it occurs to me that if the café business ever fails she could easily turn to modelling. She’s almost impossibly thin and the denim shorts cover so little she’s as close to being naked as she can be, and still be legal. I’m suddenly insanely jealous of the combination of brains, beauty and youth.

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

The Strangest of Times

Standard

It’s impossible not to have some comment on the strange times we seem to be living through: social distancing, health systems scrambling for ventilators, shoppers scrambling for toilet rolls, and no real idea of when, how or even if it’s going to end.

Firstly, I hope everyone is both staying safe and, no matter what your political beliefs, following the rules. Nobody wants to be “that guy” in the epidemic disaster film who goes on and infects half the world, and although nobody thinks they are none of us can really know.

And secondly, and much less important, a couple of weeks ago I was wondering how on earth to deal with this in the Exhibitionist Diary. It’s told in current time and at first I wondered if it even made sense to ignore what was going on in the world. But then I came to the conclusion that we all need some escapism, so added to the dream world where you can walk around nude with minimal repercussions, STIs don’t exist and nobody has to go to the toilet and women don’t seem to have periods, my world has also avoided the pandemic situation entirely. And let’s face it: an exhibitionist who has to stay indoors does not a good story make.

Which means I have to get back to writing it and try and try to inject some fun into the world when I’m struggling to feel anything but mild anxiety.

All the best!

Kara

Nothing To Borrow

Standard

Model: Hannah Kirkelie

Photographer: Larsen Sotelo

With that, she skipped out of the room. Louisa thought for a moment. Maybe it would be fun, for an hour while the washing machine ran, to sit around nude with Tania. It wasn’t like Tania didn’t see her naked for half the weekends they spent together anyway.

Before she changed her mind, and not wanting to be halfway through undressing when Tania returned, she pulled her top over her head and dropped it onto a chair. She unfastened her bra and put it on her top, then pulled off her socks, unbuttoned her skirt and slid her knickers down before picking up the lot and piling them together on top of the washing machine.

When Tania came back into the room with a basket of clothes under one arm Louisa was sitting naked at the kitchen table, pretending to study the crossword on the back of the newspaper. Her heart was beating hard in her chest and her breathing was short and rapid as she pretended to concentrate.

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

Shall We Call It A Draw?

Standard

Photo by Andrey Vapnichny

“So, here we are then,” she said to Iris.

“Yes, here we are.” Iris felt distinctly less comfortable like this than Selena seemed to. She daren’t look around the room. She leant forwards, rested her arm on the table and picked up her wine glass in her other hand. She involuntarily glanced at Selena’s breasts again. For the first time, she wondered what they would feel like; would they would fell the same as her own. Her lips pursed slightly.

“Here we are,” Selena said, “Just two naked girls having a drink.”

Iris laughed, the tension relieved for a moment. Iris had always had a wonderful smile.

“Well, I guess we can finally call this a draw, can we?” Iris said, leaning forwards and picking up her wine glass.

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

Just A Seatbelt

Standard

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