Write What You Know

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“Now imagine,” she said, “Imagine you’re sitting here naked. Just me and you, and everyone else is where they are now. Nobody knows, but you know the waiter is coming back with our coffees in a minute. Hold that fantasy in your mind.”

With that, I saw the waiter approaching from the bar with two espressos. I tried to imagine myself sitting here naked and confident, that we would exchange a glance, that he would look at my body and approve of what he saw, and then he would leave, thinking I was out of his league.

But instead of imagining that, my mind imagined me curling up in the chair with my arms clamped over my chest, and then trying to wrap the table cloth around myself.

The waiter placed our coffees on the table and Elisa thanked him before he left again.

“And?” she said.

“It was… terrifying,” I said, “I would have to hide.” The plotline of my book was going to need a bit of a rethink; sitting confidently in the nude didn’t seem very realistic at all.

Elisa sat back in her chair. “You see?” she said, “I told you that you would not know how it felt. You needed to know that to be able to write about it.”

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

Exhibitionist Diary – Tuesday 11th February 2020

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It’s so murky and rainy outside, but strangely warm and I haven’t even had to wear tights at work, which has meant no underwear at least. It’s almost like spring is on the way, although I know it’s just the weather trying to fool us and it’ll turn cold at some point. But it doesn’t feel like we’ve really had winter.

I ended up watching the dance routine video when I got home again. Got to get it into my head and start practising, no matter how silly I’ll feel.

Exhibitionist Diary – Monday 10th February 2020

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Ha told me she’d been invited to the dinner at Sarah’s on the 22nd! I guess more moral support would be good, but on the other hand I was kind of hoping that it would look as much like a date setup as possible with just the four of us.

And then this evening I went to Mel’s again. For a change she didn’t even make me wait naked in the hallway, and I don’t know what that means. She asked me how rehearsal for my performance was going and I had to tell her that I hadn’t started but I had bought everything. She wasn’t impressed as she said six or seven weeks was not a lot of time to rehearse and perfect it, because the last thing anyone wanted to see was a bad striptease!

But five minutes later I was tied at the ankles, knees, wrists and elbows at my sides and trying to update her accounts! It’s just an impossible way to work, but it gets me so horny it’s unbelievable. I don’t know if I’m more or less productive really, because I’m full of energy.

There was a bit of a backlog, though, because of the tax return taking up so much time the past few times, and right at the end Mel produced a big pile of receipts that she’d found! So I’ll have to go through those in two weeks.

And the bad news was Mel reminded me that I had photos to upload to that website still, and that if wanted my abstinence to end then that would be the only way. She said if I uploaded them she wouldn’t impose abstinence on me for another month. It almost feels like I’ve won a bit more by holding out, so I’ll see if I can last longer and get some more concessions!

Exhibitionist Diary – Sunday 9th February 2020

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I spent this morning doing some of the things I’d told Mel I’d do in the last session, like trying to write down what I spent my time doing, and some life goals. I realise there’s a lot to do and if I want to get into a different branch of accounting I need to really get going. So I’m reading some of the books I bought ages ago, and have ordered some more. It feels completely nerdy to be reading about work on a Sunday but I kind of got into it.

An Uninhibited Flatmate

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“It wasn’t unusual to come home and find my flatmate getting changed in the front room, or walking naked from the bathroom to find a change of clothes. It was almost as if she didn’t know or care what effect it had on me. Almost.”

Off It Comes

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“Thank you, Tricia.” She paused for a second. “Well, as you can see,” she indicated the café behind us with a tilt of her head, “We run a small café, mostly serving hot and cold drinks, pastries and such. As you can imagine, it’s quite a competitive industry, and we had to have some way of standing out from the crowd. Now, it’s a truism in business that “sex sells” so, we thought, as we’re two young women putting everything on the line, we went with the idea of the ‘Naked Women Cafe’.“

“But there was a problem from day one, I believe?”

“Yes indeed, Tricia. Apparently the governors interpretation of state laws meant that we couldn’t actually run around naked all day.”

Cassandra pauses and I laugh obligingly. “Of course not,” I prompt.

“And so we don’t get anyone complaining about being misled, we had to change the name to ‘Naked Women in Shorts Café’.  It’s not quite as catchy, but it works.”

“I understand that you’re appealing the governor’s decision at the moment, but, for now, the title seems to be enough to pull people in anyway.”

“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 Naked Women in Shorts, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts