CFNF

Imagine Stripping On Stage

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“Jessica’s breathing continued but Miss Ashdown felt a tremble in her stomach. “You can’t let him know that you’ve seen him in the shadows; that would ruin everything. So you decide to make the most of the opportunity that’s fallen into your lap. You...

Jessica’s breathing continued but Miss Ashdown felt a tremble in her stomach. “You can’t let him know that you’ve seen him in the shadows; that would ruin everything. So you decide to make the most of the opportunity that’s fallen into your lap. You decide that you’re going to give him the most passionate performance of your life and you know that, after this, he’ll be at the show tonight, and he’ll come and find you afterwards, and you’ll know that, if you want him, you can have him.”

Miss Ashdown felt Jessica’s breathing quicken: the fantasy seemed to be working. She continued.

“Now, drop your arms by your side, but keep your eyes closed. Don’t leave that auditorium and, whatever happens, don’t open your eyes until I tell you.”

Miss Ashdown took her hands off of Jessica’s torso and the student lowered her arms, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing deep. She was almost starting to drift in her imagination when she felt a pinch in the small of her back, and then Miss Ashdown’s hands pushed her unfastened bra off of her shoulders and down her arms and she heard it drop to the floor. Her breath shuddered and it was an effort of will not to open her eyes and close her arms across her chest to cover her breasts.

Jessica couldn’t remember the last time another person had seen her breasts. Her nipples hardened in response to that thought, and even more as she felt the cool air. Miss Ashdown’s voice was soft in her ear. “You can almost hear a gasp from the back of the concert hall as the object of your desire leans forwards to take in the sight of your naked chest. He can’t believe he isn’t dreaming. You want him to imagine what it would feel like to touch your skin, to feel your thin waist within his firm hands.”

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

Party Naked – But Only With Friends

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““No,” Natasha said, “I just… prefer it this way. I used to hang about in the house naked when I was by myself, and then Georgia would come home and find me like it and at first she thought it was weird, and then she got used to it, and then I’d...

“No,” Natasha said, “I just… prefer it this way. I used to hang about in the house naked when I was by myself, and then Georgia would come home and find me like it and at first she thought it was weird, and then she got used to it, and then I’d completely forget about it and answer the door to some friends without putting anything on first, and then they’d get used to it too, and now I’m pretty much naked all the time, unless there are a lot of strangers around.”

“Oh,” I said, as if I understood, but obviously I didn’t really understand at all. Natasha smiled again.

“Most of the people here I know, and Georgia usually tells other people what to expect. And it’s my place so I can do what I like, eh? People don’t have to stay.”

I couldn’t disagree with that, although I still couldn’t really see why that meant being naked. Natasha was so comfortable as she was that I knew she wasn’t just doing it as a one-off. I can be pretty self-centred sometimes, but even I couldn’t believe it was all a trick to freak out the English girl.

“But, but,” I stuttered, “But don’t you feel odd, with everyone staring at you?”

Natasha smiled. She’d been asked that question dozens of times before, of course.

“Look around,” she said, and I complied, “Do you see many people staring?” I did see a couple of people staring, actually, and a couple of young guys looked away as my eyes met theirs, but it wasn’t as if we were the focus of attention in the room by any means. “See? And those guys were looking at you anyway, the Asian bombshell in the tight dress and high heels. They grew tired of looking at me ages ago, but you’re an unknown, and their imaginations are running riot trying to imagine how it would feel to put their hands around that tiny waist of yours, and wondering how those big breasts of yours will look without a bra and dress to support them.” I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “What’s there to imagine about these tiny things?” Natasha continued, and rubbed her nipples and her small breasts wobbled in response. “No, they’ve been looking at you the whole time we’ve been talking.”

Read the rest of Dressed In Tattoos, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts

Naked Wake Up Call

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le-voleur-de-beaute: “ Model: Maria Lipina Photographer: Dmitry Lobanov ” ““You’re awake!” she said with a smile. She pushed the door open and skipped over to sit on the side of the bed. She was, of course, still naked. I instinctively held the...

Model: Maria Lipina 

Photographer: Dmitry Lobanov

“You’re awake!” she said with a smile. She pushed the door open and skipped over to sit on the side of the bed. She was, of course, still naked. I instinctively held the duvet tight over my chest to cover myself, and then realised just how silly a gesture that was. Natasha saw it and smiled.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Like a log,” I replied.

“Good. Well, if you want to sleep a bit more you’re welcome to.” I shook my head; it felt a bit thick-headed, but not sleepy. “But there’s a shower through there,” Natasha indicated a door that must lead to an en-suite, “And I’ve put a toothbrush and washgear in there for you. And a razor, if you need it. Take your time. And there’s a bathrobe on the back of the door too.” That was a nice gesture; I didn’t want to have to get into my tight dress right after a shower.

“I’ll be around somewhere when you’re ready,” Natasha continued. “No rush,” she emphasised and then turned to leave. I watched her lean, naked, colourfully painted buttocks as she retreated out of the room.

Read the rest of Dressed In Tattoos, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts

Naked But For A Chain

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““Well,” she said, and Tina handed her a shiny, silver chain, around three or four feet long, “When I said ‘something to wear’, you may have misinterpreted me.” Her hands returned to my neck with the chain and I felt her fumbling. Then we she lowered...

“Well,” she said, and Tina handed her a shiny, silver chain, around three or four feet long, “When I said ‘something to wear’, you may have misinterpreted me.” Her hands returned to my neck with the chain and I felt her fumbling. Then we she lowered her hands, the chain was still between her fingers, but I realised that the other end was attached to me. More specifically: it was attached to the collar around my neck. The long chain hung between us and Lisa stepped back, taking up some of the slack. I was still staring at her, my mouth open.

“So, anyway,” she said, watching my reaction carefully, “Something to wear…” She tailed off, waving the chain back and forth, her fingers holding a thin leather loop at the other end. I felt its movement translated through a gentle tugging of my neck from one side to the other.

‘Something to wear’ was not the same as ‘an outfit’. She had never said ‘an outfit’. I felt suddenly angry at her that she had misled me, but I couldn’t really pinpoint where.

“But…” I started to say. But I can’t stand around like this.

Lisa stepped towards me and cut me off, speaking quietly and softly. “Most people are already here,” she said, “So…” She stepped back again: so there was no need for me to embarrassed, she didn’t need to say, because everyone had already seen me like this.

That wasn’t the point, but I couldn’t think straight.

I looked around the room: there were half a dozen more people here than last time I had counted, and I knew none of them. In a way, Lisa was right: it couldn’t get any worse. Could it?

I took a deep breath and took another sip of gin and tonic.

“I need to say hello to some people,” Lisa said, seemingly having decided that my fate was settled. “Here,” she said, handing the end of the chain, my chain, to Adam, “You two should get on just fine.”

I felt myself suddenly awkward again. Adam held the chain with a wry smile on his lips and I didn’t know what to say. I guess, if I could pick anyone in the room, if I were to choose who would be holding a leash with me on the end, then Adam would be my choice. The tingle between my legs fired again.

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

Ladies Day – A Free ENF Story

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I wrote this Ladies Day a long time ago for Indian Outlaw’s Stripping Naked Story Board. I’ve recently been collating stories the I posted on other websites and re-posting them here, and Ladies Day has been added to the collection.

It’s a story of an aristocratic English woman with a rather dangerous addiction to betting on horse races. The introduction below is just a teaser and you can read the rest in my Exclusive Stories section. Sign-up is free and I’ll send you the password.

Kara

Ladies Day – An Extract

“But where was I… Oh yes. You see, I gave Mishka lots of pieces of paper with different horse names written on them this afternoon, and she has distributed them to many of the ladies attending today. Some have ignored them, some have placed bets and won, never to return, and some have lost at the first or second bet. Lady Jessica was satisfied to wager her jacket and she left with some of my money, but unfortunately I could not entice her to make a second bet.”

That part of it made sense to Lady Jane. Jess had won money and her jacket back and had sensibly stopped there.

“And then there was Lady Fortnum, who is now without a jacket. That one will soon be hanging in Mishka’s wardrobe. Unfortunately, I did not guess the winner correctly and so, having been given an incorrect tip, she was not drawn to place another bet.

“Then Lady… what was her name Mishka?”

“Lady Porchester,” Mishka replied in an accent that was even thicker than Sergey’s.

“Yes, Lady Porchester… Her jacket is now very tightly buttoned as she was willing to stake her blouse on a second wager, although unfortunately no more. Oh how I wish she had been wearing a… what is it you call it?… a bolero rather than a jacket. But unfortunately her state of undress is not apparent at a glance, and she retained her bra in any case. Perhaps if I had been lucky with the horse I had chosen for her second bet she would have taken a third and we would have seen a bit more.” Sergey shrugged with a wistful look on his face.

You can read all of Ladies Day here.

Party Centrepiece

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“I could hear voices around me, but I had no idea who or even how many people were in the room. I hoped no-one would recognise me, but was that my name I heard whispered?”

Sitting in Chains

Chained woman sitting on the floor
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“The metal handcuffs were cold on my bare ankles, but I didn’t dare complain. I’d never dared to complain, not since the first Sunday afternoon when Elaine closed the cool steel around my ankles and wrists, the collar around my neck, and chained them all together and left me sitting on the floor. She had not said a word, and neither had I, and now it was just part of our routine: she would sit and read her book, and I would lay, or sit, chained at her feet, in whatever clothes she had left me with.”

Pareia and Helena

Woman sitting naked at a bar
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Helena followed Pareia into the crowded bar. It had only been a few weeks since the nymph inside her had been awakened and she felt that she had so much to learn. Tonight, Pareia was going to show her some more of what her latent powers were capable of.

Helena had already learnt to become partially invisible, although she still needed Pareia’s help with this. She had also learnt that she could sense the thoughts of some women once she had touched them. Pareia had not told her what tonight’s lesson was going to be, but from the glint in her eyes she surmised that it was something that Pareia was very much looking forward to. Mischief was just part of being a nymph, or so it seemed, and Helena had felt herself increasingly susceptible to it as well.

Pareia looked around the bar as if she was searching for something.

“What are we looking for?” Helena asked her.

“No-one in particular,” Pareia replied, her eyes still scanning the room, “But I’ll know her when I see her.” Her eyes fixed on a slim red-haired woman sitting on a stool at one end of the bar. “There,” she said, “She’s the one I’m looking for.”

Pareia began to walk across the bar, and already she had taken on that semi-invisible state that she had adopted the first time that Helena had met her: not exactly invisible, but no-one would remember having seen her, and no-one would give her a second thought. It had to be this way as two women as beautiful as Pareia and Helena would not be able to deflect attention otherwise.

Pareia paused a few feet from the woman she had identified and looked her up and down.

“Is she a nymph?” Helena asked from beside her. This was how she had been approached just a few weeks before, and she imagined she must have appeared much the same way: plain, easily overlooked, and wondering why everyone else in the bar was having fun and she wasn’t.

“No,” Pareia said, “Or maybe part of her is, or was; a very small part, which is why nobody is paying her any attention.”

Helena looked around the room: indeed, the attractive redhead was all alone, with nobody giving her so much as a second glance.

“She’s dressed very plainly, though,” Helena observed. The woman was wearing a dark blouse and faded blue jeans that hid her figure.

“Yes,” Pareia said, “Nothing a true nymph would ever wear.”

Helena’s own taste in revealing clothes was explained by the spirit she harboured inside her, and both she and Pareia had dressed in short, sleeveless dresses for the evening. But in this place she was glad for the concealment that her powers brought her. She liked to be noticed, but on her own terms.

Pareia stood beside the redhead and, with one finger, she gently stroked the young woman’s shoulder. She stepped around her back, running her finger along her shoulder.

The redhead shrugged her shoulders but seemed otherwise oblivious to Pareia’s attentions. Pareia smiled.

“Very interesting,” she said to herself.

Helena gave her a questioning look.

“Here,” Pareia said, and she took Helena’s hand in hers and placed it on the redhead’s shoulder.

Helena closed her eyes as images and ideas filled her mind. She instantly knew that the woman’s name was Lucia. She was Spanish, but now lived and worked here in Athens. Helena sensed something of the nymph spirit that Pareia had hinted at, but it was just a small part of that spirit, and only that part that resulted in her hiding away in the corner of a bar, seemingly unnoticed, almost unnoticeable.

“Such a shame,” Helena said. She felt the passionate, lively spirit inside the woman, the human spirit that longed to express itself freely, but the remains of an ancient nymph-like essence kept all of this buried and hidden within her.

Pareia nodded in agreement. “She wonders why she’s alone, why every attempt to meet anyone goes nowhere. Why she looks at images of beautiful dresses in magazines and then wears drab jeans and a blouse to a bar.”

It sounded grim, yet Helena could see the sparkle in Pareia’s eyes.

“Can you help her?” Helena asked.

“We can both help her,” Pareia said with a wide smile.

The redhead, Lucia, took put her glass of wine to her lips and emptied it, completely unaware of Pareia’s pacing back and forth behind her.

“She just needs a shock to the system, that’s all,” Pareia said, “It’s like releasing the butterfly from its cocoon.”

Helena could still feel the woman’s thoughts, even though she no longer touched her. She didn’t know exactly how long the bond would last, but it would remain for as long as they stayed close together.

“She’s considering calling it a night and going home,” Helena said.

Pareia stood close beside Lucia and whispered: “Just one more glass.”

Lucia gave a tilt of her head as if she had suddenly made a decision and Helena heard the thought: “What the hell: it’s either that or go home and sit in my apartment.”

Helena felt pity for the young woman, and she felt her face burning at the raging passion within her that had never found a release.

Lucia lifted her hand and called the barman over. She indicated her glass and he refilled it with white wine.

“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.

Lucia took another sip from her wine glass.

“What now?” Helena asked.

Pareia smiled by way of reply and then, from beside Lucia, she reached over and pulled at the long tongue of leather that was threaded through the belt holes of Lucia’s jeans. She unthreaded it and then, with the other hand, she unbuckled the belt entirely.

“Why doesn’t she notice?” Helena asked.

“Because she doesn’t want to,” Pareia replied. It sort of made sense, Helena thought, but she didn’t think she could be so bold without being noticed.

Pareia pulled at the belt and it unthreaded from around Lucia’s waist. She looped the long piece of leather in on itself and placed it on the stool beside her.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Pareia whispered to Lucia.

“Mmmm,” came Lucia’s reply, not knowing what she was responding to but suddenly feeling more content with her situation.

“Can’t anyone else see her?” Helena asked, looking around.

Pareia shook her head. “Normally, yes,” she replied, “She’s not nymph enough to hide herself, but with us here… Well, we may as well not be, as far as everyone else is concerned.” She gestured at the rest of the people in the bar with a nod of her head.

“Admit it,” Pareia whispered into Lucia’s ear, “You’ve never liked these jeans.”

Lucia looked down at her pale blue trousers: she never really had liked them. She thought she had nice legs, but somehow she always ended up covering them up.

Pareia gave another gentle blow in Lucia’s ear and the redhead closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Then her hands reached down to her waistband and Helena watched as she unfastened one, two, three buttons.

She stood from her barstool and shuffled the jeans down her legs, pushed them off of her feet and then lay them across the stool beside her. It was strange, she thought, that her belt was already there: she hadn’t remembered taking it off. She shrugged and sat back on the stool.

“She has a fantastic figure,” Helena said, admiring Lucia’s slender, bare legs as she crossed one over the other and took another sip of wine. Helena noted the matching red underwear.

Pareia smiled. “It should be easy from here,” she said to Helena.

Lucia looked around the bar: she was sitting here in her underwear and blouse, and yet still no-one was was looking in her direction? Helena felt a wave of despair wash over her and felt pity for the girl, but Pareia leant towards Lucia and whispered in her ear.

“Look how beautiful you are,” she said, and Lucia stared into the mirror on the far side of the bar.

Helena looked too and saw the three of them, Pareia on one side of the redhead and her on the other. The wave of despair was replaced with, if not contentment, at least some satisfaction as she mentally agreed with Pareia.

“Yes,” Lucia thought, “I can be beautiful.”

She looked down at her bare legs. They were toned and firm, and if no-one else in the bar wanted to look at them, then so be it.

“Take off her blouse,” Pareia said to Helena.

“Me?” Helena asked, suddenly nervous of breaking the spell that Pareia had cast over Lucia. Pareia merely nodded.

Helena stepped closer to Lucia, and the passion that Pareia was fuelling within the woman felt ever more intense. With trembling fingers, she unfastened the buttons down the front of Lucia’s blouse. Lucia was seemingly oblivious, and even took a sip of wine while she was doing so.

“You don’t need this,” Helena whispered into Lucia’s ear as she brushed the thick, dark cotton off of Lucia’s shoulders. Lucia wriggled in her seat as the fabric slipped down her arms, helping it on its way, and Helena tucked it beneath Lucia’s jeans on the stool.

Even after all she had seen over the past few weeks, Helena was still astounded that she was standing here beside a beautiful redhead, sat in a crowded bar in only her underwear, and yet nobody was giving them even a second glance.

Continued in Just ENF >

Just ENF by Kara Bryn

Read the rest of the story, and much more, in Just ENF, available for the Kindle.