Holding Hands


Photo by: Sacha Leyendecker (sacha-leyendecker)

Georgia twisted herself around to face Lisa. Lisa sighed as Georgia’s skirt rubbed against her bare thigh.

“So, this dream,” Georgia started. Lis turned coy again. “You were naked.”

“I was wearing socks,” Lisa corrected. Georgia looked down at Lisa’s feet and smiled.

“And that was enough to make you cum?” Lisa blushed.

“No,” she said, and squirmed a little in the seat, “We were sitting in a bar.”

Nhu looked over at Georgia: this was one hot story, and she’d never have imagined she’d be hearing it from Lisa.

“And, for some reason, I was holding hands with you two,” Lisa continued.

Georgia took Lisa’s right hand in her left. “Like this?” she said, with a smile. Nhu held Lisa’s left hand. Even to her delicate touch it felt soft and tender.

“Yes…” Lisa said nervously. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was just like in her dream, with her hands being held on either side of her.

“Then what?” Nhu prompted. She had to hear the rest of this.

Lisa trembled. “You said,” she paused, “You said to Judy: ‘Does she like having her breasts touched’.”

Nhu grinned and turned to Judy. “Well, does she?” she asked her.

Judy nodded. “Very much so.”

Nhu reached her left hand over her and placed it on Lisa’s bare breast. The nipple pressed into her palm. Lisa gasped and panted a few times. Georgia’s hand pressed onto her other breast. It was wonderfully soft and cool.

“And this fantasy,” Georgia said, “Of you naked in the bar, when we touched your breasts, you came?”

Lisa had her eyes closed and shook her head.

Read the rest of Birthday Dinner, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

Leaving It All


Lucia suddenly tensed and Helena realised she had gone too far too quickly. Pareia gently blew onto the bare skin of the slender redhead and Lucia was carried back under the spell. Her head fell back and she rubbed her neck with her delicate fingers. If it weren’t for their magic, Helena thought, every head in the bar would be watching Lucia now.

“One thing at a time,” Pareia said gently, both to Helena and to Lucia. She ran her finger along Lucia’s slender collarbone and was rewarded by a wriggle of the shoulders.

Then the finger slid down Lucia’s chest, over the soft flesh of her breast, and then stroked the thick red lace that covered her nipples. Lucia trembled in her seat.

“No more hiding,” Pareia whispered to Lucia.

“No more hiding,” Lucia replied out loud, and she put her hands behind her back and unfastened her bra. With a smooth, rapid motion she shrugged it off of her shoulders and dropped it onto her jeans.

“She has a beautiful figure,” Helena said, and Pareia nodded in agreement.

“This is like a dream,” Lucia said quietly to herself, and Helena felt herself overwhelmed by the images of fantasies and dreams that Lucia had kept to herself for all these years.

“You’re almost free,” Pareia whispered to her.

“Almost,” Lucia agreed, and she slid her hands into her underwear and pushed downwards. She needed only a small lift in her seat as she pushed her last item of clothing down her thighs and then let it drop down her legs and onto the floor.

She wriggled contentedly in her seat: who would have thought that the night would end with her sitting naked in the bar? She was glad she had ordered that extra drink now and she emptied her glass.

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

The Skirt Was Next


Miss Ashdown finished unzipping Jessica’s skirt and, sliding her hands between the fabric and Jessica’s hips, she pushed downwards and Jessica saw the skirt fall to the floor and pool around her feet. Miss Ashdown knelt down and put a hand around first one ankle and then the other to lift it to move the skirt out of the way. She tossed it to one side with Jessica’s shoes and socks.

The teacher stood up and put her hands around Jessica’s waist again to manoeuvre her to the piano stool. Jessica felt somewhat odd, standing with her bare legs and feet, but Miss Ashdown continued as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

She moved to the opposite side of the piano stool. “Okay, first your right leg.” Jessica swung her foot up onto the stool. “It needs to be straight,” Miss Ashdown said, and again Jessica nearly jumped as she felt hands around her foot as her teacher pulled her heel deeper onto the stool.

“Now, as I did, from standing, hands on your thigh.” Jessica put her hands on her bare thigh. “And then slide downwards slowly.” Jessica did as she was instructed, and was surprised at being able to reach her ankles, albeit not her feet as Miss Ashdown had done.

“That’s good! Considering,” Miss Ashdown said, still holding Jessica’s foot in both hands.

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

How Aroused Are You Right Now?


Then she stood, hooked her fingers into her waistband, and quickly pulled her underwear down her thighs, over her stockings, stepped out of the small piece of fabric and dropped it to one side. She sat firmly in her chair with her legs crossed but her hands on the armrest. She stared at me defiantly, but I knew it was largely a defensive response.

“And were you right?” I asked her, “About this being a nine?”

Melissa nodded but said nothing.

“And on the scale of one to ten… is ten an orgasm?” She nodded again. “And have you ever had an orgasm without being touched before.” She nodded again. I paused. “Is this common for you.” She thought for a second, and then nodded again. I noted it down and her breathing became more rapid.

“Now do you mind,” I asked her, “If I take your pulse?”

She shook her head: of all the things I’ve asked of her so far, this was quite a small request. I stood up and walked over to her and put my fingers on her delicate wrist and started to count on my watch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her breasts rising and falling with each breath. After thirty seconds I had a good enough estimate and wrote it down.

“Ninety six,” I told Melissa.

“Is that high?”

I shrugged. “You’d usually be maybe sixty-something, or seventy if you’re not relaxed.” I smiled. “But there are extenuating circumstances, and ninety six is nothing to be worried about.”

She smiled weakly again, but I could see her mind is elsewhere.

“Now, I’m going to ask you a few more questions,” I told her, “And I’d like you to respond on a scale of one to five this time, okay?” Melissa nodded. “Okay. Again, this is about how much extra arousal you might feel.”

Her chest kept rising and falling and her pupils didn’t appear to be focusing on me.

“So, first. If someone came into the room.”

“Five,” she said instantly.

“If I unlocked the door.”

“Still five.”

“If I told you there was a camera filming us now?”

“Five,” and her eyes darted around the room.

“Don’t worry, there isn’t one,” I reassured her. Her eyes closed in relief for a second.

“And if I photographed you now?” I continued.

“Four,” she said. At least the scale has some variation: not everything was a “five”.

“If I threw your clothes out of the window?”

“Five.” Another instant response, which she then corrected. “No, six.” I smiled to myself: I might have to adjust the scale of her responses later.

Read the rest of A Study in Exhibitionism, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF