Nude

Nudity pictures or stories

Stockings And Devotion

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She walked to the chapel and knelt in place for afternoon prayer. As she bent at the knees she paid special attention to keep her habit covering the backs of her heels lest the fabric of her sheer nylon stockings became exposed. Still, the prayer session passed without incident and, if anything, Sarah felt that consciousness of her predicament only enhanced her concentration. If it was possible to pray harder than usual, then she did so: for herself, for Sister Theresa and her error of judgement, and for the Reverend Mother, to ask for forgiveness for the way she had punished Theresa.

Following prayer Sarah set herself about her newly assigned role. She found the watering cans and diligently watered each of the flower beds and all of the pots. She saw Theresa walking around the courtyard, but, after what she had witnessed from her that morning, she felt too ashamed on Theresa’s behalf to approach her and ask about her full set of duties. Watering would be enough for today, and tomorrow she would find out what else her new job might entail. The plants weren’t going to die overnight.

As Sarah sat and ate dinner with the other nuns she felt a growing sense of confidence inside of her. Firstly, she now had a place in the convent, a purpose, even if it was the simplest of tasks. But secondly, she had a secret that none of them knew: that beneath her habit was a sexy, young woman in black lingerie and stockings; a woman who would be the object of desire of any man alive. The article had told her so. She smiled to herself.

Read the rest of the story in The Rules of the Convent

Opportunity

Naked woman in a launderette
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“I’ve been trying to catch the eye of one guy in my building for months. The only thing I know about him is what day he brings his washing down, so here goes.”

Who Knew?

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Oh dear, Susan thought to herself, bad Susan. No Susan. And then she started chuckling. Because if no-one could see them… why wear them at all?

“Are you having fun in there? Dare I ask?…” Marian’s voice came from outside.

“Just buttoning up!” Susan lied, standing still naked. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she picked up her old knickers and bra and shoved them into the flip-top bin in the corner of the changing room. She looked herself in the eye in the mirror. “You’re really doing this,” she whispered, and picked up the coat, put her arms in the sleeves, and carefully buttoned up all but the top two and the bottom two buttons. With the belt tied it was secure, and she looked down at her old shoes. Not long for you now, she thought as she slipped them on, wishing she could take Marian’s stilettoes instead.

Susan examined herself briefly in the mirror. Nothing appeared different from the way she had looked when she came in. She could just as well be wearing underwear, a low-cut top and a short skirt… She could be, but she wasn’t.

Read the rest of the story in Changing Rooms

Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of Her

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But the main thing I noticed was Mia: by her presence she commanded the space. She was wearing… well, you can probably guess what she was, or rather wasn’t, wearing. I recognised the red heels from the other day and, besides those and her thick black hair, her bare, creamy skin seemed to cast a light on the room. On her hands and forearms were a pair of long, silk gloves, but that was the only part of her skin that was covered.

She had a large, gold-sprayed handbag hooked on the crook of her elbow, an oversized watch on one wrist and a bracelet on the other, and a large braided necklace around her neck with a single stone which hung between her breasts. Long earrings almost reached her shoulders and, to crown it off was, well, a crown, or rather a tiara that sparkled in the intense lighting.

I smiled; the image of her was seductive, sensual, erotic and also comical all at the same time. If she had been wearing a long, flowing evening gown it would have been easy to dismiss her as the new-money wife of a rich footballer. Yet, by being naked beneath all of the accessories, she was offering commentary on money instead of trying to represent it.

I looked at some of the other guests; there were more than a few who were wearing at least one item resembling something that Mia was sneering at: a brash watch, a tasteless necklace, or a “look at me” handbag. Admittedly, no-one else was wearing a tiara.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and I wasn’t the only one. “Amazing, isn’t she?” a voice said from beside me.

I turned around and saw a late middle-aged man in an expensive suit with a neatly trimmed beard and grey hair.

“All those things that many people aspire to and yet, if you removed them, Mia would become more beautiful as each item disappeared.”

He had a point: her nakedness served to highlight just how drab those expensive items were by comparison.

Read the rest of Interview With An Artist, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts

Having Fun In There?

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Oh dear, Susan thought to herself, bad Susan. No Susan. And then she started chuckling. Because if no-one could see them… why wear them at all?

“Are you having fun in there? Dare I ask?…” Marian’s voice came from outside.

“Just buttoning up!” Susan lied, standing still naked. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she picked up her old knickers and bra and shoved them into the flip-top bin in the corner of the changing room. She looked herself in the eye in the mirror. “You’re really doing this,” she whispered, and picked up the coat, put her arms in the sleeves, and carefully buttoned up all but the top two and the bottom two buttons. With the belt tied it was secure, and she looked down at her old shoes. Not long for you now, she thought as she slipped them on, wishing she could take Marian’s stilettoes instead.

Susan examined herself briefly in the mirror. Nothing appeared different from the way she had looked when she came in. She could just as well be wearing underwear, a low-cut top and a short skirt… She could be, but she wasn’t.

Read the rest of the story in Changing Rooms