“Screw it,” she said quietly to herself, “I’m not going to let one small thing ruin our anniversary night.”
She unfurled the towel from around herself, wrapped the skirt around her waist and tied it at the side. It had a slight flare and covered to halfway down her thigh, but at least there was a large overlap where the fabric wrapped over itself. She still felt very exposed, though, and she was about to take the skirt off and put a pair of tights on underneath when she felt a tingle inside: this skirt, and no underwear, is what the Alison of her stories would wear. Alison wouldn’t care that she had nothing on underneath.
She picked up the black crop top and shrugged it over her shoulders. She pulled the front closed and zipped it from the bottom. The zip started just above her belly button and stopped again at a low, square neckline. The material was elasticated and pushed her breasts together so she had something of a cleavage even without a bra to help.
Alison looked in the mirror, feeling sexier than she had for years. She hadn’t bared her stomach like this since before they were married, and she’d never gone out without underwear before. Fictional Alison would approve, she thought with a smile.
The bathroom door opened and Malcolm emerged, wrapped in a towel at the waist. He was still in good shape, Alison thought, so maybe they could skip going out and have plenty of fun in the privacy of their hotel room.
“Woah!” Malcolm said, stopping in his tracks as he saw his wife standing there, looking just the same as she had all those years before.
Alison put one hand on her hip and adopted a coquettish tilt of the head.
“You approve?” she asked him.
And if you don’t have the password, you can get one by filling out the form on the story’s page.
Like A New Woman – Part 2
“So,” Cassie asked, peering over her coffee cup, “Any more ‘adventures’?”
I could hear the air quotes around “adventures” and I knew exactly what kind of “adventures” she was asking about.
“Well…” I began. She put her cup down and leant forwards. “But I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“You should! You should!” she urged.
I laughed, wanting to hold out on her for a little longer but unable to in the face of her obvious interest.
“Okay, okay!” I paused for effect and sipped my coffee. It felt incredibly mischievous to be talking about these things in the middle of a crowded café at this time of day.
“Tell me!” Cassie instructed earnestly. Or perhaps pleaded is more the word I should use.
“After that first time,” I began.
“With the boots.”
“I’m glad you remember.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget, and I wasn’t even there.” I smiled: I’d never forget.
“Anyway, after the first time, it was as if nothing had happened.”
“You mean you didn’t talk about it?” I shook my head.
“Ellie seemed so embarrassed after we’d had sex and she was splayed out on the floor with those thigh-high boots on. I didn’t want to bring it up.”
“Your relationship is weird,” Cassie said, “If I want something, I just tell Amber. ‘Touch me here.’ ‘Lick me there.’ etc. You get the picture.”
I was lost in thought for a second; I very much got the picture.
“I can’t imagine all the things you two are repressing,” she continued, “Or perhaps, maybe I can, now that we’ve seen this side to Ellie.”
“Do you want to hear what happened or not?”
“Sorry! Very much so.” She mimed a zipping motion over her mouth, but I had a better chance of ending up in bed with her than I had of keeping her quiet when sex was the topic of conversation.
“So, we were going to go out, and I had trousers and a shirt on.”
“She was nowhere near ready. But she was standing in front of the wardrobe, completely starkers again, but wearing those little stilettoes you said you like.”
“Oh yes. They’re gorgeous. And Ellie has great legs.” I smiled: I knew that very well.
“But that’s not like Ellie, just to stand around in the nude while I’m in the room.”
“Oh, right. For me it’s pretty normal. Not you, obviously. Amber.” I’d love to see that, but the chance of it was pretty much zero.
“Well, it’s not normal for Ellie. And she was staring into the wardrobe, just her earrings sparkling and her skin glowing.”
“And instead of going out you banged her right there and then?”
“You know, if that was all that happened do you think it would make an interesting story.”
“Perhaps not. But it’s what I’d do.”
“It crossed my mind, I tell you. And I was sat on the edge of the bed looking at her, and my trousers were feeling a bit tight by then…”
“I have no interest in the contents of your trousers, neither for the purposes of this story nor for any other purposes.”
“Yeah, I know…” It sounded more wistful than I intended. I remembered a long time back when I’d made an inept attempt at a pass at Cassie, and she’d said something along the lines of being so not interested that she could feel her fanny shrinking just at the thought of it. I never tried again.
“So,” Cassie continued, brushing aside the awkward moment as she always had so easily, “What did you do?”
“It was more what Ellie did,” I said.
“Well… she was staring into the wardrobe, as I said, and she asked me what I thought she should wear.” I paused and Cassie stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “So I just ‘you look pretty great like that’.”
“I bet she did.”
“She really did. And she turned and looked at me and said ‘only pretty good?’ And I said ‘okay, pretty amazing’.” She really did look amazing.
“‘That’s slightly better’ she said, ‘But I’m not sure the restaurant would let me in like this.’ And I was lost for words for a minute, because Ellie’s not really the flirting type.”
And if you don’t have the password and want to read the rest, you can get one by filling out the form on the story’s page.
Like A New Woman – Part 1
“I couldn’t say who was more surprised: me or her,” I told Cassie.
“I see what you mean,” Cassie said, looking at me with wide eyes, “And she was completely starkers?”
I looked around the café to check nobody was listening in on our very intimate conversation.
“Apart from the boots. I didn’t even know she had them. Black leather, right up to her thighs.”
“This might be too much information, but you’re making me wet now.”
I laughed: Cassie was one of my oldest friends, and if it wasn’t for her being a through-and-through lesbian I would have loved for her to have been more than that. I sometimes forgot it, though, when I was telling her about my own relationship. Plus she’d always had a bit of a soft spot for my wife.
“And what did she say?” Cassie asked.
“She said: ‘What are you doing home?'” Cassie laughed. “She obviously wasn’t expecting me back.”
“Obviously. And what did you say.”
“I told her I left work early.”
“That explains it then. And how did she explain standing naked in leather boots in front of the mirror?”
“She didn’t. She just ran her fingers through her hair and said ‘I haven’t worn these for ages. I wanted to see if they still fit.’ I looked her up and down and said ‘They look great.'”
“I bet they did,” she agreed. I grinned at Cassie as I remembered how she had looked: long dark hair, smooth, fair skin and somehow the boots made her look more naked than I had ever seen her before.
“The thing is, it was so out of character that I didn’t really know what to say. I couldn’t come straight out and ask.”
“You could have.”
“Well, yeah, I could. But I didn’t. I was tempted to bang her right there and then in the hallway.”
“An excellent choice as well.”
“I know. Maybe I should have. But I thought I’d have a bit of fun, and if she wasn’t going to explain why she was nude, who was I to ask? So I said ‘If you’ve got your boots on, I thought we’d go out for a drink.'”
A fun little film about naked freedom:
Helped by a couple who look good naked, of course.
I was inspired by the video below to write a little story about being stripped whilst crowd surfing. Now, before you get your hopes up, the girl in this video doesn’t get anything taken off, but it’s pretty hot all the same.
Obviously, in my story things go a little further… It’s intended as a bit of fun and some pure escapism. I’m sure if it ever happened it would be nothing short of terrifying, but as a fantasy it’s quite exquisite.
You can read the whole story in my Exclusive Stories section, for which you’ll need your password. And if you don’t have a password, then you’ll need to sign up to get one!
Here’s a little teaser of the story:
Have you ever been out with someone who’s just a bit too much of a gentleman? Yes, I know that’s a rarity and I should thank my lucky stars, but the problem with Martin was that even after three dates he still didn’t seem to realise that I fancied him like crazy.
“Thanks for bringing me, Martin,” I said, looking away from the stage for a second and smiling at him. He had lovely grey-blue eyes and an odd mixture of confidence and shyness. He wasn’t at all like the guys I used to date; the big dumb blonds, as I thought of them now. I just wished he had a little of their, shall we say, forthrightness? With them, if I escaped a first date without a hand on my boob I considered myself fortunate. With Martin I was lucky if I saw even the idea of a goodnight kiss flash across his face before nerves got the better of him.
It was my first music festival, and a beautiful summer’s day with it. I wished we’d bought tickets for the whole weekend, and if Martin had any sense he’d have suggested sharing a tent. I’d even have said yes to sharing a sleeping bag, but I doubt he’d ever be so bold as to ask.
And before you ask, I wasn’t just desperate to sleep with him because I’d had a couple of beers; at the start of the day I’d already decided that, one way or another, I was going to find out if he actually found me attractive or not. I’d even planned to start the day with a not-so-accidental towel drop, but when I’d told Martin I wasn’t ready he’d waited out on the street. I just hoped that skinny jeans and a sleeveless top was sexy enough for him, and I guess I’ll have to find another way to get naked before the day was out. I’ve even deployed the wireless pullover bra in case Martin had no idea how to undo a clasp.
My train of fantasy was interrupted by two guys lifting a young woman into the air in front of me. I was about to complain about blocking the view to the band when she fell back towards us and I automatically lifted my hands to stop her.
More hands joined, and the next I knew it we were pushing her over our heads as she stretched her arms above her. She seemed to glide effortlessly over the tops of the crowd, sometimes twisting and rolling, progressing slowly on a meandering path across the park.
Hands grabbed at her and she let out a shriek. She moved her arms to her side and gripped her t-shirt as someone became over-enthusiastic about the presence of a young woman’s body and tried to lift her top.
“Woah!” I said involuntarily. Martin had seen it too and his eyes were wide.
As I looked back at the girl her arms were above her head again, and more hands had pushed her t-shirt high enough to expose her stomach. She didn’t seem to mind, having found a level of exposure that she was comfortable with. Other hands tugged at her jeans and she shrieked again and grabbed her belt.
I’m very excited to announce my latest ENF story, The Naked Girl Across The Street, is available now for the Kindle.
It’s a story about a young man, Mike, who lives opposite a young woman who seems to have developed a penchant for exercising nude, cooking nude, eating in the nude, and generally doing anything she likes in the nude, with seemingly no regard as to just how well he is able to see into her flat.
He becomes increasingly fixated with her, but at the same time his affections grow for a co-worker named Alice. She seems entirely the opposite of his beautiful exhibitionist neighbour and he is torn by his desire for both women, yet frustrated by being able to form a relationship with either of them.
The Naked Girl Across The Street is a story about how an uneasy love triangle develops, and along the way Mike learns that his neighbour will go a lot further than just spending evenings at home naked.
I’m really pleased with how the book as turned out and I’m sure you’ll love reading it. Each chapter is built around thrills and erotic nude scenes whilst exploring the complex situation that develops.
And just as a teaser, here’s an extract from the first chapter:
Seeing Is Believing
I barely even knew her to say hello to, let alone her name, but every weeknight she’d come home, turn on the light and I’d catch a brief glimpse of her before she pulled the curtains. I was invariably sat at my small dining table with my laptop open, my face illuminated by the glow from the screen. No matter what movie or box set I was watching I always found myself distracted by her movements across the street. Perhaps it was because I was a single twenty-five year old man and she was pretty. Okay, no “perhaps” – it was certainly because I was a single twenty-five year old man and she was pretty. And because I was soon to be a twenty-six year old man and beginning to worry about how close I was getting to my thirties without meeting anyone.
This evening began in exactly the same way. I can’t remember what I was watching when the light in her sitting room came on but I was transfixed as she strode from one side of it to the other. I don’t know what she does for a living, but she’s usually wearing a grey skirt and white blouse when she comes home at the end of the day. Not that I’m watching in an unhealthy way, you understand.
She walked around the room and disappeared out of sight. Then the bedroom light came on and she crossed back and forth sorting out clothes. It was very rare for her to be in the bedroom with the curtains open and I tried to make it look as if I was staring at my computer in case she looked over. I wasn’t sure how much she would see of my face from the reflected light of the screen but eyes have this funny way of meeting even in the gloom and I didn’t want to be caught staring straight at her.
She began to unbutton her blouse. Yup, you heard that right: she began to unbutton her blouse. Whatever was playing on my screen no longer mattered. Her actions were hurried and she didn’t once look across the street. I presumed her curtains would be closed any second when she realised what she was doing so I had to imprint this moment on my memory while I had the chance.
She pulled the blouse off of her arms and tossed it onto the bed. I licked my lips as I stared across at her. Okay, from this distance she was only really a shape in a white bra and grey skirt, but my imagination was filling in plenty of detail.
She pushed her skirt down over her hips. I couldn’t believe this was happening, but she made such gorgeous shapes as she wriggled out of it. She had rather nice legs. They looked good from here anyway.
She reached behind her back and my heart was pounding as she began to fiddle with the clasp of her bra. As she fumbled she began to walk, and I let out a deep breath of disappointment as she disappeared into another room. Damn: show’s over.
Or so I thought, as she reappeared in the sitting room with her bra in her hand. She dropped it onto a piece of furniture. I wished I had better eyesight, because if her breasts were anything like I imagined them to be then she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
As she pushed her underwear down her thighs I slowly folded down the screen of my laptop, not wanting to make a movement that would attract attention but also not wanting for her to look up and suddenly see me staring across at her naked body. Her. Naked. Body. It still sounds good to say it.
She glanced up as I closed the lid. I froze. Surely her curtains would be closed now.
Yet still they weren’t, and as I watched her she stood, facing directly towards me, naked from head to toe. She raised her hands over her head and stretched upwards.
I realised I was craning my neck. I daren’t get closer to the window but my eyeballs were trying to drag me there regardless. She lifted one leg off the ground and placed the sole of her foot against her knee, and it dawned on me that I was witnessing the most amazing yoga workout I was ever likely to see.
Read the rest of the story in The Naked Girl Across The Street.
This is one of the stories that I wrote for a new ENF short story collection to follow up Naked Women in Shorts, but since it’s not going to make it into the final book I thought I’d publish it in my Exclusive Stories section. It could do with a continuation or a follow-up, I think, but inspiration didn’t strike.
I hope you like it anyway,
Halloween At The Old Hospital
“So… this used to be a hospital,” Lily asked Daniela.
“Yup,” replied Daniela, “Why do you think I’m wearing this outfit?”
Daniela struck a pose for Lily, showing off her nurse’s outfit. Although, of course, the “nurse’s outfit” wasn’t one you’d see in any genuine hospital. It was strapless, showing off Daniela’s delicate, smooth shoulders; it was very short, showing off her long, slim legs; and it had a large, prominent zip all the way down the front, undone by just a couple of inches to reveal an inviting cleavage. She wore white stilettos and white stockings that came nowhere near as high as the bottom of the dress.
“I assumed you were just dressed as a tart,” Lily teased her, “Like usual”. Daniela poked her tongue out.
“Well, at least some of us have some imagination,” Daniela teased back.
Lily had come dressed as a witch. But, like Daniela, she was no traditional witch. She had a short black, figure-hugging dress with a low neckline, sheer black tights and tall, black heels. About the only clue she was a witch was the large pointy hat on her head. It would be a cliché, but true, to say that she already had many men bewitched that evening.
“And coming to a party in an old hospital dressed as a nurse is original?” Lily replied, “Did you know, apparently this was a Victorian mental hospital, and I’m really not sure whether you’re supposed to be dressed as a member of staff or a patient.”
Daniela smiled at her friend’s joke.
“Hey, girls!” they heard a voice behind them. It was Becky, who had been busy leading men astray dressed as Catwoman in a black one-piece catsuit with a zip down the front, complete with mask, cat ears and a whip.
“Have you seen the bed they’ve got here?” Becky continued, “Apparently we can have a go on it.”
The old hospital was a tourist attraction by day, and some of the more robust installations had been left out to enhance the atmosphere of the party. And at thirty pounds a ticket, not including drinks, you’d expect there to be at least a little theme to the place.
“Trust you to want a go on a bed!” Lily teased her.
“Not like that!” Becky protested, “C’mon. Let’s get some photos.”
She led them through the crowd, all eyes following the three attractive women as they traversed the room and disappeared through a doorway. They entered a semi-lit room with a large hospital bed in the centre, complete with wrist and leg straps.
You can read all of Halloween At The Old Hospital. As with all the Exclusive Stories, you’ll need your password to access the story, and if you don’t have one then fill out the form below with your e-mail address and either a real name or an alias you’d like me to use: