“How come,” I continued, “How come you’re naked?” I didn’t want to offend her by making it sound like it was a bad thing. “I mean, the tattoos are really great, and you look great…” She smiled kindly, but was still going to let me keep digging myself into this hole. “You lost a bet or something?… Or you turned into the Hulk and your clothes didn’t fit and then you turned back?…” I tailed off and Natasha laughed.

“Oh, no,” she said, “I live here. With Georgia.” She tipped her head in the direction of our party host who I’d been introduced to, and then summarily bored witless earlier.

“Oh,” I said, and was about to add “I see…” but then realised that it didn’t explain anything at all.

“No,” Natasha said, “I just… prefer it this way. I used to hang about in the house naked when I was by myself, and then Georgia would come home and find me like it and at first she thought it was weird, and then she got used to it, and then I’d completely forget about it and answer the door to some friends without putting anything on first, and then they’d get used to it too, and now I’m pretty much naked all the time, unless there are a lot of strangers around.”

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

“Now,” she said, “How does that feel.”

Her eyes were sparkling and I felt as if she had admitted me into some kind of inner circle. I wasn’t used to being so… accepted and it made me feel warm inside, but my skin was tingling at the realisation that I was nude and helpless, for the moment at least.

“Even… odder,” I said, “I feel… I feel so naked.”

Lisa smiled as if that was exactly what she wanted.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” she said, “You are naked.”

We both laughed and I took another nervous sip from my glass.

“Here,” she said, and with one hand firmly on the small of my back and another more gently touching my stomach she pushed me gently backwards and I let myself sink down onto the sofa.

Lisa sat beside me and picked up her own gin and tonic. She tapped the glass against my own.

“Cheers,” she said with a wink. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine as she sipped.

Read the rest of A Very Grown Up Party, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

“Now imagine,” she said, “Imagine you’re sitting here naked. Just me and you, and everyone else is where they are now. Nobody knows, but you know the waiter is coming back with our coffees in a minute. Hold that fantasy in your mind.”

With that, I saw the waiter approaching from the bar with two espressos. I tried to imagine myself sitting here naked and confident, that we would exchange a glance, that he would look at my body and approve of what he saw, and then he would leave, thinking I was out of his league.

But instead of imagining that, my mind imagined me curling up in the chair with my arms clamped over my chest, and then trying to wrap the table cloth around myself.

The waiter placed our coffees on the table and Elisa thanked him before he left again.

“And?” she said.

“It was… terrifying,” I said, “I would have to hide.” The plotline of my book was going to need a bit of a rethink; sitting confidently in the nude didn’t seem very realistic at all.

Elisa sat back in her chair. “You see?” she said, “I told you that you would not know how it felt. You needed to know that to be able to write about it.”

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

Suddenly Mia stood, threw off the coat and tossed it on the bed. As I expected, she was nude. She sat back down on the chair and crossed one perfectly toned leg over the other.

As I mentioned before, I’m not accustomed to being in the company of a naked woman, and certainly not in the privacy of my hotel room. I felt my face turning red: had I assessed this all wrong? Was Mia reticent to talk about relationships because I was a target for her? Had I given off signals? Was there any more of a signal than stripping to my underwear for lunch?

But Mia stayed sat in the chair. If this was a seduction it was a very passive one.

“I need to show you,” she said. I wondered what I could be shown that I hadn’t already seen.

“Show me what?” I asked.

“The stabilisers,” she said, “You can ride without them.” I began to understand what she might be getting at, and I dreaded the implication.

She stood and walked over to me and put her hands around my waist. My mouth went dry. Have I gone too far to stop this now?

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

“Oh,” Cassandra said, looking at my brand new shorts, “Now just to roughen your edges a little…” She reached towards my waist and, for some reason, I didn’t even move as she unbuttoned my denim shorts. They were propped over my hips so they weren’t about to fall down by themselves, and the zip held them closed, but with that small change I felt so much sexier, just for having that button hanging open. How could a nineteen year old know more about this kind of thing than me?

“You were about to?…” Cassandra prompted, distracting me from the protestation I was about to make.

“I, uh, I was just taking these ice teas outside,” I said. She smiled and nodded, and then turned to help Sue at the counter.

I picked up the two glasses and walked, as if in a dream, towards the door of the café. Heads lifted as I passed and I felt them staring at me, but the attention was remarkably short-lived. Most of the people here were regulars who could look at the bare breasts of Cassandra and Sue any time they liked, so one more topless woman wasn’t going to shock them.

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

“Take me, for example,” she said, “How do you think I can judge what is good to publish?” She smiled at me, not expecting an answer. “Do you think I do it by locking myself in my office and having boring sex?”

I blushed at the idea. I wasn’t used to talking so frankly, which, frankly, didn’t bode well for my writing.

Elisa leaned forwards and looked me in the eyes. “Do I look like I have boring sex?”

My mouth opened to make a noise but nothing came out, but she certainly didn’t look like a woman who had boring sex. Her semi-open blouse, delicate jewellery and a figure-hugging skirt with a split high up a stockinged thigh told me that her sex was anything but boring. I suddenly felt very plain and dowdy in my buttoned cotton dress with its flowery pattern.

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

“Stand up.” I did as I was told. She began to unfasten my belt and then looked down at my feet. I’d kicked my trainers off when I’d come into her house, out of habit, although I guess it wasn’t necessary since Lisa was wearing her boots indoors.

“Socks?” she said, “Really?” I laughed. It wasn’t so strange to be wearing socks!

She rolled up my trouser leg an inch and pulled at my sock, tugging it off my raised foot, and then performed the same routine with the other leg.

I remained standing and she unzipped my jeans and hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled down. I had the second surprise in as many minutes as I realised she was taking my knickers with them.

“I…” I began to protest.

“Sssh,” she said, “We need to start from the ground up.”

I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto the back of a chair.

I’d honestly never felt so self-conscious, sat there, suddenly nude. Lisa sat back beside me in her PVC dress and boots.

Read the rest of A Very Grown Up Party, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF