The Women You Meet On The Train

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“Been a tough year, more like,” she answered. Now she had my attention, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. “They make us wear all this,” she looked down at herself and I followed her gaze, right down to her elegant, shapely legs and the bright red shoes on her feet. “And we all know it’s just to keep the men occupied gawping at us on the flight.” I could see why that would happen.

She suddenly stood in front of me, feet together, one leg slightly bent at the knee and her hand on her hip. “They just make us look ridiculous.”

I looked her up and down again: she looked like a dream come true, but I didn’t think saying so would help. Nor was I about to agree that she looked ridiculous.

“This jacket is always pinching at the waist,” she continued, and as she spoke she unfastened the single button that held it closed, shrugged it off her shoulders, slid it down her arms and held it out in front of her as if she’d found a dead rat in her kitchen. She looked at it in disgust.

“Well, screw them, and their uniform,” she said, and she threw the jacket out of the window. I watched as the wind took hold of it and it flapped into the bushes by the side of the tracks. My first thought was that it looked far too expensive a jacket to be throwing away, but then the thought was erased instantly.

Read the rest of Passed For Promotion, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts

Reliving Youthful Fantasies

Couple sat at a cafe table
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The night was warm so Alison felt comfortable with the amount of bare skin she had exposed, but it was very unusual for her to feel the air on her stomach, let alone feeling it between her legs. Malcolm felt like the luckiest man alive, walking the streets with his beautiful wife beside him. He was as sure as he could be that Alison’s writing reflected her desires: he would never have imagined she would be happy to go out dressed so minimally nowadays, and especially with nothing on underneath. He hoped that it was arousing her as much as it was him.

They found a small restaurant and sat and ate dinner. Alison’s eyes sparkled as she relaxed, and occasionally Malcolm would reach under the table and put a hand on her knee, and then he would slide it up her thigh. Her skin was soft and yielding. He couldn’t reach quite as high as she would like, but the thought of how close he was to touching her so intimately was a turn-on for both of them.

Read the rest of Re-Kindled Desires, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF