Stories

Service With A Smile. A Topless Smile

Standard

“Cassandra smiled and nodded. “I know, I know, and I apologise. There’s a reason I tend to do the negotiating with suppliers…” I could see how that would work, with Cassandra handling negotiations, and then I realised that, if all their meetings...

Cassandra smiled and nodded. “I know, I know, and I apologise. There’s a reason I tend to do the negotiating with suppliers…”

I could see how that would work, with Cassandra handling negotiations, and then I realised that, if all their meetings happened in the same state of undress, she probably negotiated some quite decent discounts on supplies from male sales staff.

“But, we’re good to continue?” Cassandra asked, looking at me hopefully with a hint of a smile on her face. She put her hands onto mine, which were still covering a nipple each and, gently, she pulled them away from my body. I offered no resistance. We stood opposite each other with our hands linked. I forced a smile and nodded.

“You’ll do fine,” she whispered, and then added a wink. My smile broadened a little; she really was good at winning people over. I stood, suddenly relaxed, and I realised I probably would have taken the bikini top off if she’d just asked more persistently earlier.

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

Why Wear What Nobody Sees?

Standard

“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...

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

Invisible Beside Her

Standard

“The waiter arrived and I watched his eyes lock onto Mia’s breasts for a second before he gained enough self-control to address her face. “Do you mind if I order?” Mia asked as she looked at me. It was only half a question. “It’s just… I know what’s...

The waiter arrived and I watched his eyes lock onto Mia’s breasts for a second before he gained enough self-control to address her face.

“Do you mind if I order?” Mia asked as she looked at me. It was only half a question. “It’s just… I know what’s good here. There’s nothing that you don’t eat, is there?” I shook my head.

She ordered in fluent Spanish.

“I have ordered some wine for us too. It’s impossible not to drink with tapas,” she said.

I looked down at my notepad of questions. None of them seemed appropriate.

“Is this a regular of yours, then?” I asked, glancing around the café, wondering if they were used to seeing Mia like this.

“I come here sometimes. Not often, but a few times.”

“And… were you naked before?” I asked.

“Nude,” she said stiffly, “I prefer nude.” I nodded. I had read about Mia’s word preference during my research, but my mind wasn’t quite with me at the moment.

Mia’s eyes looked upwards thoughtfully. “I can’t remember. Maybe once, perhaps.” She shrugged. It was seemingly so commonplace to her that she genuinely couldn’t tell for sure. If I’d ever been nude in a café, I’d damn sure remember it.

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

True Sacrifice

Standard

“Sarah felt Theresa begin to climb onto the altar, moving between her legs, and she opened her eyes and looked down at her. They held each other’s gaze as Theresa put her hands on Sarah’s sides and then, bowing her head, she poked out her tongue and...

Sarah felt Theresa begin to climb onto the altar, moving between her legs, and she opened her eyes and looked down at her. They held each other’s gaze as Theresa put her hands on Sarah’s sides and then, bowing her head, she poked out her tongue and her head sunk towards Sarah’s slit. As she made contact and probed for the clitoris Sarah emitted a short, high-pitched yelp.

“Now, let’s get Satan out of you,” the Reverend Mother said softly, and Sarah wondered if she, too, was going to add to this impossible pleasure.

“Yes,” Sarah said expectantly. One more lick from Theresa, or maybe two, was all it was going to take.

But Sarah’s excitement turned to dread as she saw the Reverend Mother holding something bright above her head. As it cut out the light from the stained glass window she could make out the long curved blade of the dagger. The Reverend Mother was poised to strike down. Sarah tried to lift her arms to stop her but the chains held her. She screamed “no!” over and over again and ever louder.

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

Imagine I’m Clothed

Standard

“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...

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

Getting Changed

Standard

““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...

“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

A Secret Habit

Standard

“She felt satisfied: she may not have the full, red lips, the dark eye make-up, or high heels, but her figure was just as good. She felt that, in another life, if she had a man then there would be no reason for him to look at anyone else. Still, that...

She felt satisfied: she may not have the full, red lips, the dark eye make-up, or high heels, but her figure was just as good. She felt that, in another life, if she had a man then there would be no reason for him to look at anyone else. Still, that was in the realms of fantasy, and she wasn’t exactly sure what the appeal of keeping a man was in any case.

Sarah’s reverie was broken by a sharp knock at the door.

“Sister Sarah?” the voice from the other side called.

Sarah suddenly panicked. At least she had remembered to lock the door: there was no way anyone could discover her like this.

“Sarah?” the voice called again with another knock, “Are you in there? The Reverend Mother wants to see you right away.”

Sarah looked around: she couldn’t keep the Reverend Mother waiting, not for the time it would take her to change back into her own underwear. Hurriedly, she pulled her habit over her head. She looked down: it was long enough that it covered her feet and hide her stockings. She bundled her white underwear up and pushed it back into the drawer.

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

Too Good To Hide

Standard

fuckyeahrussianbabes: “Наташа by Ilya Golovin 🇷🇺 ” “I looked down at my feet and shoes. I did have nice feet, and the thin stilettos did set my legs off nicely. “That’s why I stay barefoot as well,” Natasha continued, “Can you imagine what I’d look...Наташа by Ilya Golovin

I looked down at my feet and shoes. I did have nice feet, and the thin stilettos did set my legs off nicely.

“That’s why I stay barefoot as well,” Natasha continued, “Can you imagine what I’d look like in those heels? The boys would think I was begging for it.”

Natasha had a point. Somehow, she was just naked, or nude, or whatever she might want to call it, but it wasn’t like a stripper was nude. She was sexual, but not just sexual. It’s hard to explain, but somehow sexuality wasn’t what defined her nakedness.

“But you must get guys chatting you up all the time?” I asked her, and that brought another of those quizzical head tilts. I translated to American in my head and rephrased it. “Hitting on you,” I added.

“Oh, well, sometimes,” Natasha answered, “But most of them are too scared. I mean: where do you start? As long as boys don’t get into a pack-hunting frame of mind then I’m fine, and, as I said, people here are friends of friends. And besides,” she added, “I usually mention my boyfriend Martin over there.” A nod of her head indicated a towering figure with a stereotypical American football player build across the room. “And that puts them off the idea pretty quickly.” She giggled and it was obvious she quite enjoyed handling the reactions her nudity provoked.

“And he doesn’t mind, everyone seeing you?…” I asked her.

Natasha shook her head. “Not at all, or at least he says he doesn’t, and he knows he has to accept me as I am. And I was fully dressed when we first met too, so it’s not like this is a thing he’s into or anything weird like that.” I couldn’t help thinking it was something weird already, but I wasn’t sure that I should think that.

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

Naked Inspiration

Standard

sexynaughtybits: “Nasten'ka on Instagram ” “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...

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.

“You imagine his strong hands, running up and down your naked body,” the teacher continued, their hands continuing to move together, “His eyes devour your image as he remains fixed in his seat, desperately trying to control his breathing lest he be discovered watching you while you arouse yourself, naked on the stage.”

Miss Ashdown paused. Jessica’s hands were now moving by themselves and Miss Ashdown was merely following their movements with hers.

“Finally, with one last stretch, you feel you need to release this energy, to show him just a hint of the woman that is bursting to get out of you.” With that, she lifted Jessica’s hands above her and Jessica arched her back as if she were stretching after awaking in the morning.

“You’re a beautiful young girl, Jessica,” Miss Ashdown whispered, “So now let’s see how you play.”

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

Waiting For An Outfit

Standard

jai-envie-detoi: “ *** Photographer: Davide Padovan ” “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...

Photographer: Davide Padovan

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.

“What…” I began, “What am I going to be wearing?”

Lisa looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you know Tina?” she asked me. I nodded, although I only barely knew the girl she was talking about.

“She has something for you to put on,” she told me.

“And where’s Tina?”

“She’s on her way. Or at least she said she’d get her early.”

I looked wistfully at my clothes crumpled on the chair: I’d have preferred to have gotten undressed after my outfit had arrived, not before. Then I glanced up at the table across the room, laid out with drinks and empty glasses. I noticed what looked like a pair of handcuffs on the far corner and then averted my eyes in embarrassment. I don’t know why.

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