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.

I was receiving no end of whistles and cheers from the crowd and I began to skip in circles as we walked along. The four girls around me smiled at each other, and I realised they were probably enjoying the show as much as most of the women at the parade. And the great thing was: this was Pride, and no-one cared, including me.

“Hey, beautiful!” a female voice said from the crowd. It was a slim blonde girl, probably twenty years old and just beginning to feel comfortable with her sexuality. It seemed that the parade was something that emboldened all of us.

I skipped over to the railings where she stood, which is not an easy thing to do in inch-high heels, and put my hands on them and leant towards her.

“Hey back, beautiful,” I said, and I leant towards her and gave her a small kiss on the lips. The metal railing was cold against my midriff, but her kips were soft and warm. I’d never kissed a girl before, and I don’t know what made me do it then. It was something about the permissiveness of the parade, and the anonymity of walking amongst all of these wonderful people. I’d never walk up to a guy in the nude and kiss him, but if I was being a lesbian for the afternoon then it seemed fine to do it to a girl. Weird.

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

“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

“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