As Sarah sat and ate dinner with the other nuns she felt a growing sense of confidence inside of her. Firstly, she now had a place in the convent, a purpose, even if it was the simplest of tasks. But secondly, she had a secret that none of them knew: that beneath her habit was a sexy, young woman in black lingerie and stockings; a woman who would be the object of desire of any man alive. The article had told her so. She smiled to herself.

That evening, back in the privacy of her own room, she locked the door, pulled her habit over her head, and admired her figure in the mirror again. She wondered: was this what normal young women did? From the articles in the magazine, it seemed that everyone was dressing to impress the opposite sex, even if they couldn’t see it.

Sarah’s sleep that night was disturbed. She dreamt of herself in the convent. Only, instead of her habit, she was wearing her sexy black underwear and stockings and she had found some high heels like the girl in the magazine photo. And then, for a reason that made no sense, suddenly she was without her underwear, and she had to stand at the front of prayer in nothing but stockings and high heels.

Read the rest of the story in The Rules of the Convent

“You thought I might be straight?” I said, pleased at being called a pretty girl but less so about appearing so obviously straight.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “You’re dressed straight.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Kathy. She nodded.

“Dressed straight?” I asked.

“It’s the sundress,” she said, “You look like you’re trying to pull a guy.”

Well, I thought, that wasn’t entirely bad, although, as I’ve already said, my chances of that happening here were less than nil.

“Oh,” I said, mildly crestfallen, and also confused. I looked around at the other women in the parade: if you took out the most extravagant of the costumes, then the outfits on show ranged from everyday jeans and t-shirts to the tiniest of bikinis, and even a few virtually transparent tops. Wasn’t my outfit somewhere in the middle?

“You need to make more of a statement, girl,” Martha said.

“A statement?” I asked.

“Yup,” Kathy agreed, “You’re wearing underwear, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” I said indignantly. The way this sundress bounced around I certainly wasn’t going to leave home without it and, although I might not need a bra all the time, I liked the way it shaped me beneath this dress. And then something occurred to me: “So I’d be making a statement if I didn’t have any underwear on?”

“No!” Kathy said with a laugh, “I was just thinking you could lose the dress!”

I put my hands over my mouth in shock, as much feigned as real. It wasn’t the first time one of them had suggested something like that to me and I always got a kick out of their efforts to see more of my body.

“And you’d still be one of the most conservatively dressed girls here,” Martha agreed.

I looked around: she had a point there. Kathy sensed that I was wavering and to try to carry me away with the moment she grabbed hold of the bottom of my sundress and lifted. It reached as far as my waist before I managed to clamp my arms to my sides and stop her from going any further, although not without a shriek and a giggle in the process.

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

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Martha said, joining the conversation, “She said she liked you… and it seemed like a fun way to stop you getting your clothes back…” She looked down at me, obviously pleased at the way she’d managed to keep me nude for the entire day.

“And my clothes?” I said. Now I was naked at a party full of strangers and I’d really rather not be.

“They’re around somewhere,” Martha replied with a wink.

“Here,” Sue said from beside me and handed me a bottle of beer, “Glad to see you made it. How was the journey?”

“Don’t you start!” I warned her, provoking a giggle from both Sue and Tan.

“It must be quite cold out there,” Tan said, and without even asking she reached a palm out and pressed it against my still-hard nipple.

“Hey!” I said, although her touch was pleasantly soft and warm.

Kathy seemed to think it was okay to do the same on the other breast.

“Oooh, yes,” she said, “Do let me know if you need warming up.”

The redhead girl looked at the pair enviously. I’d almost forgotten that the whole plan had just been to throw the two of us together, and now we were in a crowd she actually looked disappointed again, especially now there were two girls with their hands on my body.

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

“Let’s start here, shall we?” Pareia said, and she ran the back of her finger gently down Lucia’s neck. Then she blew on the woman’s delicate throat. Helena felt the pleasure that ran through Lucia’s body, and she remembered how it had felt when Pareia had done the same to her.

Pareia smiled at Helena. “I don’t think this will be difficult,” she said, and the young redhead lifted her hands to her neckline and carefully unfastened the top three buttons of her thick, dark blouse. She flapped at the now loose fabric to wash air over her chest and Helena saw that beneath it she was wearing a deep, ruby-red bra. So the passion in her did find some expression at least, albeit to then be covered over again by thick, opaque fabrics.

“You try,” Pareia said to Helena.

Helena stood the other side of Lucia and blew gently into her ear. The young woman closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, and Helena could almost feel the heat burning from inside of her.

“I don’t know how she keeps it all bottled up,” Helena said.

“You managed to,” Pareia said with a wink. She had a point, and Helena knew the conflict that was raging inside Lucia from her own experience.

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

She began to play the sonata again. This time, as well as the cold brass of the pedals, Jessica was sensitive to the rough fabric of the piano stool across the backs of her thighs as her legs moved. But rather than jump at each touch, she was starting to seek out the feeling and revel in it. She would anticipate each tap of the damper pedal and let the feeling course through her.

“Good! Good! Or better, at least,” Miss Ashdown said, reining in her praise lest Jessica thought the work was done for the day. “I can see your legs and feet really working here and, more importantly, I can really feel them working through the music. Can you feel it?”

Jessica nodded. It was like there was something different about the air itself.

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