Driving Solo

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So, yesterday morning, I decided to go for a drive, just as I had done on many other days. I threw my clothes onto the bed, slipped into my luscious black stilettos, put on my sunglasses and walked out to the car. I had plenty of gas to get me out and back, and as the sun was dipping the air was cooling to a perfect temperature.

I was used to cruising naked through the neighbourhood by now; it had become much less of a thrill. Yet, as it had a few times before, as the last set of lights turned to red and I was forced to slow and stop I felt the butterflies rise in my stomach at the idea that maybe someone would walk past and happen to glance into the car. No-one ever did as there was nowhere worth walking to, but the thought was excitement enough.

This time, though, there was something that hadn’t happened before and I heard and felt a large SUV pull up in the lane alongside me. At least I was on the inside and hidden behind the door, but I felt myself sink low in my seat, hoping that the driver’s high position wouldn’t let them see down into the car. I kept my left arm straight on the steering wheel, doing everything I could to block any possible line of sight to my bare breasts.

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I Finally Made It

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“Don’t be too hard on her,” Martha said, joining the conversation, “She said she liked you… and it seemed like a fun way to stop you getting your clothes back…” She looked down at me, obviously pleased at the way she’d managed to keep me nude for the entire day.

“And my clothes?” I said. Now I was naked at a party full of strangers and I’d really rather not be.

“They’re around somewhere,” Martha replied with a wink.

“Here,” Sue said from beside me and handed me a bottle of beer, “Glad to see you made it. How was the journey?”

“Don’t you start!” I warned her, provoking a giggle from both Sue and Tan.

“It must be quite cold out there,” Tan said, and without even asking she reached a palm out and pressed it against my still-hard nipple.

“Hey!” I said, although her touch was pleasantly soft and warm.

Kathy seemed to think it was okay to do the same on the other breast.

“Oooh, yes,” she said, “Do let me know if you need warming up.”

The redhead girl looked at the pair enviously. I’d almost forgotten that the whole plan had just been to throw the two of us together, and now we were in a crowd she actually looked disappointed again, especially now there were two girls with their hands on my body.

Read the rest of Take Pride, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

Hanging At Home

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“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.”

“Oh,” I said, as if I understood, but obviously I didn’t really understand at all. Natasha smiled again.

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

Comfortably Nude

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shorthair-babes:

Ekaterina

When I first met Natasha I believe I experienced the same emotion that everyone does when first meeting her in the comfort of her own home; that emotion being surprise, or possibly shock, depending on one’s disposition.

The party seemed to be going the way that parties often run for me, that of being introduced to new people, not really knowing what to say, and then being rescued by someone (or maybe whoever I was talking to was the one being rescued) and then I’d be introduced to a new unsuspecting victim of inanity. This was no different, although as it was my first visit to the States I was being introduced and rescued even more thoroughly than usual as everyone wanted to meet “the English girl”, and then quickly realised that said meeting wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

But, as I said, this party was following a similar line to many, and I was running out of conversation with the quite charming and far too confident young American man I was talking to as, in the nick of time, I was tapped on the shoulder by my host for the week, Theresa, and a shout in my ear.

“Rupes! How ya doin’ there Rupes!” It wasn’t a question. “You must meet Natasha. You two just have to meet!” I rolled my eyes slightly as soon Natasha would discover, as many had already discovered that evening, that I was not the person anyone “had to meet”.

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.

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

Growing Up

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bodydiscourse:

Photo: Maiku Bokeh
Model: Glass Olive

2015

“Just a sec,” Lisa said, and she picked up my bundle of clothes and left the room with them. That answered the question of putting them back on without even asking it, I guess.

I heard her go upstairs and then a minute later she reappeared with a rectangular cardboard box.

“Here,” she said, “I’ve got these for you.”

She handed me the box. It looked like a shoebox, and I hoped it had more than shoes inside.

I opened the box: it did only have shoes inside. Gorgeous, strappy stilettos; light cream colour with sparkling insets.

“These are for me?” I asked looking at them.

“Just to borrow,” Lisa said as she made us both a gin and tonic, “Do you like them?”

“They’re gorgeous!” I said. And so much more glamourous than anything I owned.

“Here you go,” Lisa said, handing me my gin and tonic. I took a sip and waited for the alcohol to have some effect: hopefully it would help me to get over the discomfort of sitting around naked.

Lisa put her drink on the table beside her and took one of the shoes out of the box.

“Here,” she said, kneeling in front of me. She lifted my ankle with her hand and slipped the shoe onto my foot. I giggled at the tickling sensation as she fastened the thin leather buckle.

“And the other one,” she said, “I didn’t realise you were so ticklish.” Her eyes sparkled and she grabbed my foot with her hand and I almost spilt my gin and tonic as I wriggled in a fit of giggles.

She pushed the other shoe onto my foot and fastened the buckle carefully and then stood in front of me.

“Gorgeous,” she said, looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile, but I felt even more naked now I had the stilettos on.

“Can you stand in them?”

I pushed myself up off of the sofa and Lisa held my wrists while I stood, still trying to avoid spilling my drink. She released my wrists and took a step back looking me up and down. I was a half an inch taller than her now.

“You were made for them,” she said with a grin. I took another nervous sip from my glass; it was helping to quell my nerves a little, but I wished Tina would hurry up with some clothes.

I looked at the table again: there were a lot of glasses, and a lot of drinks. Lisa had mentioned something about expecting twenty or thirty people that evening but we were in no danger of running short of alcohol.

My eyes returned to the handcuffs again and Lisa followed my gaze.

“What are they for?” I couldn’t help but ask, feeling emboldened by the first flush of inebriation.

“We just play around with them,” Lisa said, “Let me show you.”

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

You’ll just have to wait

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“You’ll just have to wait!” I told her, holding a hand up to stop that line of questioning, “Anyway, what I did do was slip my hands around her back, and I found the zip of her dress and I slid it down as we kissed, and she sort of wriggled her shoulders, but she definitely didn’t stop me.”

“Was it the red dress?” I nodded. “Then you couldn’t really have gotten very far without Ellie going along with it if I remember just how tight it is.”

“Have you memorised my wife’s entire wardrobe?” I asked.

“More or less,” Cassie admitted.

“Well, anyway, she dropped her arms and I pushed the dress down, and she was standing pressed up against me in little black heels and red underwear.”

“Which I’m almost disappointed about.”

“Don’t be, because I was on a roll, so I unclipped her bra, and under the cover of another kiss I had that down her arms and dropped onto the floor. And she pressed herself against me and wrapped her arms around my neck.”

“And you were wearing?…”

“Trousers and shirt. From work.”

“This is a hot scene nonetheless. I just wish it hadn’t been you there.” I glared across the table at the woman who was supposed to be my friend but was always so rude to me.

“Anyway, it didn’t take much to dispense with Ellie’s knickers as well, and her legs wriggled a bit as she coaxed them down to the floor.”

“And then you-” I shook my head, cutting off the inevitable question.

“I had my hands all over her. She felt so good, and so horny. And then Ellie lifted herself onto tiptoes and whispered into my ear ‘After dinner’ and she slipped out of my arms and walked back to the kitchen.

“Still starkers?”

“Except for the shoes.”

“Oh my god your wife is so hot.”

I knew it, but I hadn’t known how hot.

“And she started putting food onto plates, and I didn’t know what to do with myself so I went and sat down and took our glasses across. And as she walked towards me, naked and beautiful with a plate in each hand, eating was the last thing on my mind.”

“I bet it was.”

“But she sat down, and we ate, and talked, and all I could think about was ‘Ellie’s sitting naked and eating dinner and I can’t believe it’s really her’.”

“I’m not sure I can. Are you sure you’re not having me on?” I shook my head again.

“It was just like she was dressed… except she wasn’t, and her eyes sparkled, and after dinner she took the plates away and it was only then I realised she hadn’t even pulled the curtains.”

“Oh wow. And your place you can see into from across the street with the light on.”

“Completely. Even with the lights dimmed a little, as they were then. I don’t know whether anyone saw anything or not, because I couldn’t take my eyes off of Ellie.”

“You know,” Cassie said, “I think you really are the luckiest man alive. And probably the least deserving.”

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You Can Stay, But Only Naked

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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?”

Louisa simply sighed in response and Tania ran her other hand across her girlfriend’s bare shoulder and down to gently stroke her other breast. Louisa’s head rocked back and Tania kissed her neck. She moved her right hand down, sliding it between Louisa’s legs, until she felt wonderful soft, moist yielding flesh which she began to rub gently. It had only taken a few seconds and Louisa was starting to pant, but Tania didn’t want this to be over so quickly.

They were interrupted by the sound of ringing and Tania’s phone buzzed and vibrated across the table. “Rebecca” read the name, and Tania decided it was worth answering, as much to tease Louisa as anything. She heard Louisa exhaled deeply as she took her hands away.

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

A Performance To Remember

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Jessica couldn’t remember the last time another person had seen her breasts. Her nipples hardened in response to that thought, and even more as she felt the cool air. Miss Ashdown’s voice was soft in her ear. “You can almost hear a gasp from the back of the concert hall as the object of your desire leans forwards to take in the sight of your naked chest. He can’t believe he isn’t dreaming. You want him to imagine what it would feel like to touch your skin, to feel your thin waist within his firm hands.”

Jessica’s breath shuddered again. Miss Ashdown, standing behind her, took Jessica’s hands within her own and moved them up to rest on her stomach, and then slide up along her sides as she breathed in. Miss Ashdown pressed Jessica’s hands onto her hips and slid them up and down her sides with the slow rhythm of each inhale and exhale.

Jessica imagined herself, standing on the stage, barely covered by her underwear, running her hands over her hips and stoking the fire of her passion. She suddenly felt incredibly sexual.

“You act as if you’re alone; this is the most private moment as you ready yourself to give everything to your playing,” Miss Ashdown’s soft voice continued. “You want nothing to come between you and your music.”

As she said this, and as Jessica exhaled, Miss Ashdown’s fingers, flat on top of Jessica’s, slipped into the white knickers. Jessica felt the fabric sliding over her hips as their interlocked hands pushed them down onto the floor. Jessica’s breath shuddered again but somehow she resisted the impulse to try to cover herself. She concentrated on the image of the concert hall, of standing naked on the stage as if no-one was there.

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

Bearing It All

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Sarah took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, “The earlier we go, the fewer people will be around town.”

In a near trance, she followed Jessica to the main gate. Her heart skipped a beat as the latch was lifted and the wooden door opened to reveal the street outside. Jessica stepped through and looked around: the coast was clear, for now. She nodded for Sarah to follow her.

Sarah followed as closely as if she was Jessica’s shadow but, inevitably, they started to see other people out on the street. They were headed towards the centre of town and, although it was early, life here started early for everyone, before the heat of the day set in.

The locals stared from a distance, and Sarah was conscious not only of her own embarrassment but also how embarrassed Jessica was to be accompanied by a naked woman. A nun in full dress accompanied by a woman in nothing but stockings and small, black shoes was not a sight anyone could ignore.

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

Warm Despite The Rain

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I looked around: it was better to be with Mia than to wait here naked for her to return. I knew that compromise was not something that Mia understood. No wonder she was single. I scuttled after her.

The umbrella covered our heads but I could feel the rain splashing against my ankles. We walked in silence and I resigned myself to following Mia around until she had decided that my ordeal had lasted long enough. Except that, for her, this wasn’t an ordeal: it was an experiment, and an experience to be savoured.

“I envy you,” she said, “It’s wonderful to be nude in the rain.”

I could have strangled her: if it’s that great then why didn’t you just do it and leave me as I was?

We arrived in the main square. There were a handful of people, apparently tourists, and all holding umbrellas. The rain was too heavy to be outside without one. Some of them looked in our direction and pointed and muttered to each other. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to huddle in on myself.

“Are you cold?” Mia asked me.

“No,” I said, “I just don’t want to be here.”

But that didn’t seem to matter to Mia. Maybe I should have claimed to feel the chill and hope for some sympathy, but it still felt very warm despite the rain.

We kept walking. We appeared to be heading directly towards a young couple looking at a guide book. They noticed us when we were only ten paces away and I could see the surprise in their eyes as a naked woman walking towards them in the rain.

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