With that, she skipped out of the room. Louisa thought for a moment. Maybe it would be fun, for an hour while the washing machine ran, to sit around nude with Tania. It wasn’t like Tania didn’t see her naked for half the weekends they spent together anyway.

Before she changed her mind, and not wanting to be halfway through undressing when Tania returned, she pulled her top over her head and dropped it onto a chair. She unfastened her bra and put it on her top, then pulled off her socks, unbuttoned her skirt and slid her knickers down before picking up the lot and piling them together on top of the washing machine.

When Tania came back into the room with a basket of clothes under one arm Louisa was sitting naked at the kitchen table, pretending to study the crossword on the back of the newspaper. Her heart was beating hard in her chest and her breathing was short and rapid as she pretended to concentrate.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tania teased Louisa, who ignored her.

Tania looked admiringly at Louisa’s slender legs, crossed at the knee, and the delicate, pointed foot at the end of it. She crouched down and opened the washing machine door and threw in her clothes and Louisa’s before selecting the coolest wash setting and starting the cycle.

“So, it looks like you’re naked for the next couple of hours, huh?” Tania continued to tease, and Louisa continued to ignore her.

Tania stood behind Louisa, who was still pretending she was solving the crossword puzzle. She brushed Louisa’s blonde hair away from her neck and then ran her hand around her shoulder and back again, then across her perfect, soft breast onto an equally perfect, hard nipple. She felt Louisa’s breath shudder as she cupped her breast. She leant down to Louisa’s ear. Louisa was still facing her crossword puzzle, but her eyes were closed. Tania blew lightly in her ear and whispered. “What shall we do now, then?”

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

Jessica sat back on the piano stool and started playing. She genuinely could feel the freedom as her shoulders swayed with the movement of the piece. She felt as if the piano were leading her through the music rather than the other way around, and she was so lost in playing that she forgot that she was sitting in her underwear.

Miss Ashdown let Jessica play all the way through the sonata, and finally Jessica stopped with her fingers resting gently on the keys, her eyes closed, savouring the moment.

“You see what you can do?” she heard Miss Ashdown whisper. Jessica nodded and smiled.

“Now,” Miss Ashdown continued, “We know you can play with more freedom, but you need to play with more passion. I know it’s in you; it must be at your age. Come. I’ll show you something.”

Miss Ashdown took Jessica’s hand and she allowed herself to be led across the room.

“Look at this,” Miss Ashdown said, pointing at a framed black and white photo on the wall. It showed a young woman in a loose but low-cut evening dress with a plunging neckline and a long slit up one side. She was sitting at a piano and playing in front of what must have been hundreds of people inside a concert hall.

“That was me,” Miss Ashdown told her, “when I was only a few years older than you are now.”

Jessica looked at Miss Ashdown. She was used to thinking of her teacher as, well, a teacher. She might have said that she was attractive, if she was asked, but she had never even thought of it before. She looked back at the photo; she could see the passion on the young woman’s face, in the way her body was arched over the piano keys and by the graceful line of her calf as her foot just touched a pedal. It was an incredibly beautiful image, but also somehow an intensely sexual one.

“I was making love to the keys that night,” Miss Ashdown said, momentarily lost in memory, “And there wasn’t a man in the house that didn’t wish he was the one to escort me home to see where my energy would find an outlet next. And maybe a few women there did too.” Jessica looked up at Miss Ashdown who gave her a mischievous wink.

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

I turned around, and found myself, rarely for someone of my small height, even in my two inch heels, looking straight into the eyes of Natasha.

Natasha was petite, she was blonde, and she was smiling and offering me her hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Natasha,” she said, her eyes fixed on me all the time.

“I’m Rupa. Pleased to meet you,” I replied, taking her delicate hand in my own and trying to appear confident as I shook it.

“Oooh, I love your English accent,” Natasha said with a smile. I had heard that plenty of times tonight already and I wondered if Americans were taught to say that at school.

“I love your, er,” I said as I looked her up and down, desperate to pay a compliment in return. “I love your tattoos.” Natasha had a magnificent set of multi-coloured tattoos: on her arms, on her shoulders, on the tops of her feet and her ankles, spiralling up her leg and thigh and across her stomach. Oh yes, now I remember the important part of describing Natasha, and why I was surprised, or even shocked, at meeting her. I’m able to describe Natasha’s tattoos in such detail because Natasha was entirely naked.

“Why, thank you,” she said, looking down at herself. I joined her in staring at the young naked body in front of me and wondered whether I was dreaming. “I’ve been collecting them for years. I started with a few small ones like this.” She twisted around and pointed to an owl tattooed on her shoulder before turning back quickly as I tried to tear my eyes away from the way her tiny breasts wobbled as she spun around. “And this was next,” she said as she twisted her leg outwards and pointed to a small butterfly at the top of her inner thigh, although all I could think of was that I was staring directly at her immaculately shaved vagina. “That one was for an old boyfriend, who wanted something that only he would see.” She shrugged and her breasts wobbled again. “I guess everyone gets to see it now.”

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