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 anyway.
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.