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 ï>¿Nikki's Naked Weekend byRequiaxÂ(C)

   I've always lacked confidence about my body.

   If you had to pin me down about it, I would say that there's nothing
particularly "wrong" with the way I look.  I have a fairly average body
type - a little towards the "plump" or "curvy" side but no more than most
women my age.  I'm quite short and my breasts are on the large side,
leading to me feeling on some days like I am basically a pair of boobs with
some feet attached, but I do know that if my body was on somebody else, I
would like it a lot better than I do on me.

   If I think about it, my lack of confidence goes back to my pre-teen
years.  I developed early, compared to most of the other girls around me,
and this unfortunately gathered me a lot of attention from boys - and men.
I didn't welcome any of this, I was too young really to understand a lot of
it, and it left me often confused, embarrassed and scared.  But it also
caused problems with other girls - although I didn't like the attention
from guys, the other girls around me thought I was inviting it, and they
were jealous and angry as a result.  They were very mean to me, calling me
all sorts of names, telling me I was fat and ugly.  I know where it came
from now, but at the time it just seemed like they were telling me that
because I was.

   I hated taking off my clothes.  I used to dread changing for gym in
front of everyone, and wearing skimpy clothes or swimwear was horrible. 
The idea of anyone seeing me completely naked filled me with anxiety and I
would do anything to avoid it.  This carried on into adulthood, and I even
hated my partners seeing me naked.  I used to dress and undress hurriedly
around them, and would only make love in the dark, or at least in
flattering light.  This made things very difficult in relationships, with
my constant insecurities creating a barrier between me and the men I was
with.

   I was 22, and my last relationship had ended badly.  My insecurity about
my body and my shyness about nudity was not the sole reason for that, but
it had been a big contributory factor.  And by now, even I realised that it
was getting to the point where I needed to do something about it.

   I began to use the internet to look up ways to improve body confidence.
There was a big movement towards body positivity in women and there were
lots of websites and articles to explain how to learn to love yourself and
stop feeling ugly and inadequate (of course, there were also plenty of
articles on the same sites shaming celebrities for a bit of weight gain or
some other unsightly feature, so I wasn't sure how to feel about that!),
and lots of tips and tricks to try.

   One of the themes which kept popping up was the idea that it can help
you to feel better about yourself if you simply take off all your clothes
and spend some time naked at home by yourself - I guessed it was about
getting comfortable in your own skin.  A lot of writers talked about how it
had helped them and as it didn't require much more effort from me than just
staying indoors a while, I decided that it might be worth giving it a go!

   The first time I tried walking around naked at home I nearly cried.  I
was incredibly uncomfortable without clothes on and almost immediately, and
gratefully, slipped a t-shirt and leggings back on.  I told myself "baby
steps", and that it would be something that would get easier with time.

   Except, it didn't.  I just didn't feel comfortable or happy with my
clothes off.  Nudity was supposedly going to feel natural and liberating
for me, but all I felt was weird and awkward.  I disliked the feeling of
areas of my bare skin connecting with one another, or with unfamiliar
surfaces.  I felt cold.  And most of all I hated looking down at myself and
seeing my body uncovered and exposed.  Time and again, try as I might, I
would soon find myself putting my clothes back on.

   I felt like a big failure.  I couldn't even get up the courage to do
something as simple as walk around my flat naked.  I was never going to
build up my confidence and was always going to be ruled by insecurity.

   I think feeling like that was what got me to try a pretty drastic
measure.

   I'd bought, a few years before, a time-lock box.  It had been to help me
with my revision.  Anything that might distract me (usually my phone) would
go in the box.  I'd lock it, and instead of a key, it had a timer.  When
you set that, the box would not open until the time ran out.  There was no
override, no way to trick the box into opening early - once something was
locked in there, it was in there until the time reached zero.

   My clothes in my flat were all kept in one big walk-in closet off my
bedroom.  All my clothes, including underwear, nightclothes - everything
except for a few pairs of shoes.  The closet had a sturdy lock on the door,
and only one key - and it was this that formed my plan.

   I decided the only way I was going to get over my discomfort about being
naked was to force myself into it, to create a situation where I would have
no other option except to be without the security of my clothes, at least
in the privacy of home.  I didn't have enough willpower to stick with it,
otherwise - I would just run back to the comfort of clothing at the first
sensation of disliking my naked state.  I needed to make myself do it,
until I no longer felt like I needed to cover up.

   So, I laid my plan.  I cleared my diary, stocked up with food, drink,
snacks, and picked out some shows on Netflix.  Then, early one Saturday
morning, I got out of bed, stretched, and walked over to the closet.

   I had gone to town the previous evening.  As well as my clothes, I had
also made sure any towels, blankets - anything I could wrap myself in and
hide my body - were in there.  There wasn't anything left around my flat
that could be considered clothing, even by the most imaginative person. 
Everything was piled up in my closet.

   I stood looking at it all, for a moment, feeling apprehensive.  But I
was determined to do this.  So I took a deep breath, and pulled my pyjama
top off over my head.  I dropped it on the floor of the closet, and
followed it a few moments later with my pyjama shorts and my underwear.

   Now completely naked, I stepped back out of the closet.  I took the key
to the closet door from my dresser, closed the door, and locked it.

   I clutched the key tightly in my hand and went into the kitchen, where
the lock-box was.  I checked, double-checked and triple-checked the timer,
to make sure I hadn't just set it for 10 years or something ridiculous. 
Then I closed my eyes, took another deep breath, and dropped the key to the
closet into the box, before closing the lid.  It clicked and beeped to let
me know that it was sealed.

   I stood there for a moment, naked in my kitchen, looking at the key in
the box.  I'd set the timer so that the box would not open again for
slightly under 48 hours - the early hours of Monday morning.  My intention
was to force myself to spend the whole weekend completely without any
clothing or coverage of any kind - without even the option of covering up.
I wasn't going out, I was expecting no callers - I might get a bit of cabin
fever but I didn't see any logical reason why I should have any problems
staying naked around my home for two days, aside from my own discomfort
with nudity and my own naked body, and I hoped that by giving myself no
get-out-of-being-naked card, I would soon overcome that and maybe even come
to enjoy it!

   -

   Three hours in to my naked weekend.

   As I'd anticipated, it had initially been awful. 

   I'd shuddered each time I passed a mirror or reflective surface, and
caught a glimpse of my pale, naked form.  I'm just about 5'2", with brown
shoulder length hair.  I don't have a weight problem, but I do carry some
extra, especially on my thighs, bottom, and stomach - all the "trouble"
areas basically.  I do have, as I have mentioned, fairly large breasts,
with (what I would say are) big nipples - but I'm probably not the best
person to describe myself, as I have a pretty biased perspective against
using complimentary terms to describe myself!  Suffice to say, in the real
world, outside my head, you'd probably say I have a "nice" body - but I
wouldn't believe you if you told me!  So to keep glimpsing my naked form as
I walked around - well, it was hard going.  I found myself focussing on all
the flaws I perceived - the lumps and bumps, the marks, the way my stomach
looked or my pubic hair (which I trim but don't shave completely) was
scruffy, or how my breasts are uneven (every woman's are but I still felt
like there was something wrong when I noticed the tiny discrepancy in
size).

   Gradually, though, I had started to calm down.  My anxiety at being
naked and unable to clothe myself for the next 48 hours gave way to
frustration at my own ridiculousness - why was I so bothered about walking
around naked in a completely private place with nobody to see me?  - and
finally to acceptance.

   I fixed myself breakfast and got on with a few chores.  I had to admit,
once I had something to take my mind off the body issues, being naked was
actually quite nice.  I suppose it was the novelty, but dusting and washing
dishes and eating food with no clothes on was starting to feel pretty good!

   I gave myself a break and flopped on my couch to watch some cartoons.  I
only half paid attention to the screen, though - what held more interest
for me was my own body. 

   I began drumming my fingers on my bare belly, softly, just feeling the
connection between my skin and my fingertips.  I traced circles on myself
with one finger, then cupped my naked breasts in my hands.  My nipples were
hard, and I tweaked them and giggled.

   I shifted position on the couch, and parted my legs.  Slowly, a little
nervously, I slid my hand between them.

   I was not a frequent masturbator.  To self-love, for me, required me to
love myself, something I had until now struggled to accomplish.  But now,
feeling liberated from at least some of my negative thoughts about my body,
I went at it with gusto.  I caressed my outer labia with my fingers, before
I ran a cautious finger along my slit.  I was surprised and delighted to
discover how wet I was, and gathering some of that moisture on my
fingertips I began to massage first my labia and then finally,
delightfully, my clitoris.  I quickly found a rhythm of circular motions,
and in no time at all the ache was growing within me and I was building
towards climax. 

   Mindful that I was completely alone, I threw restraint to the wind, and
allowed myself to moan and cry out loudly and ecstatically as I came.  I
was normally much more reserved - a legacy of my teenage years, when we had
very thin walls and I would always find myself cumming with one hand
clamped over my mouth to stifle the squeaks and moans I would be powerless
to hold back.  But here, now, I was liberated, and very many gasps and
cries of "oh God...  oh yes!" flew from my lips before I finally sank back
on the couch, spent and breathless.

   I must have dozed off, after that.  I awoke, woozy and with a head full
of fluff.  Why was I naked on the sofa, I wondered for a moment, before my
mind cleared and ordered itself and I remembered - all my clothes and
coverings were locked away in my closet and I would have no access to the
key until the early hours of Monday.  I was maybe 4 hours into a weekend
which I was going to spend entirely naked.

   Now that I had masturbated, and orgasmed, I started again to feel a
little uncomfortable about my nudity.  Post-sex, I always feel very
vulnerable, and putting on some clothes - even just a big fluffy robe - has
always been my way of returning to a sense of security.  But, here and now,
I had no choice but to remain naked, and try to ignore that sense of
feeling vulnerable and exposed.

   I decided to try to take my mind off it by doing a little more
housework, and that had the desired effect.  I was beginning to enjoy being
completely naked again, and I was soon busy down on the floor scrubbing the
doors of the kitchen cabinets, completely oblivious to any discomfort.

   When the knock at the door came, I think I jumped about a foot in the
air.

   I flushed, scarlet and hot.  Panic gripped me.  I was stark naked.  I
had no accessible clothing of any kind anywhere in the house.  I'd been so
determined to force myself to remain naked that I had banished everything
that I could have possibly used as clothing to the closet.  I had suspected
that if I only locked my clothes away, I would simply wrap myself up in
whatever fabric I had to hand, so I had tried to anticipate that action. 
Towels, blankets, even my bedsheets - everything was locked away.  I
couldn't be any more naked than I was right now - and now somebody was at
my door.

   I tried to force myself to relax.  They couldn't see me.  They didn't
know I was naked.  They didn't even know I was here.  All I had to do was
not answer the door, stay still and quiet, and they would give up after a
moment, and go away.

   They knocked again.  I remained rooted to the spot.  I was barely
breathing.  I didn't want any noise to give me away.

   I must have stood there like that for about 5 minutes, but no further
knocks at the door came.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  My heart rate was
coming back to normal.  "Phew!" I exclaimed aloud.

   I was relieved, but also a little angry at myself.  I had been so
certain that spending a weekend naked would be, for me, a terrible
challenge that I had gone out of my way to prevent myself having any escape
clause, and locked everything away.  But, as it had turned out, I was
really rather enjoying being a nudie, and it had only taken maybe an hour
or two of nudity to get that way.  I'm not saying I suddenly felt confident
about my body, but being naked on my own in my apartment certainly no
longer seemed quite so terrifying, which was kind of the point of the
exercise.  My long-term goal - body confidence - would only happen, I knew,
once I had been able to develop a more casual attitude to nudity, something
which I hoped now would evolve naturally over time spent living my normal
home life in the nude at least some of the time.  This weekend had been all
about ripping off the band-aid, rather than the long-term healing.  That
had been accomplished and I now felt that, at this moment, even if my
closet door were to spring open, I would probably not get dressed, at least
until I needed to go outside - or greet a visitor.  And I wouldn't view
either as a defeat now I had managed to do what I wanted.

   But, instead, I had gone all out, trying to force myself to spend my
whole weekend without the crutch of clothing by locking my closet and
sealing the key away all weekend.  I'd gone overboard and not thought about
having an emergency item of clothing - just a dress or a robe or a coat -
in case I absolutely needed it.  I felt I'd been a bit silly, burning my
boat without considering I might have a legitimate need to get off the
beach!  But, on the other hand, who is to say I would have got to this
point without giving myself no other option?

   I didn't, in the end, have an easy answer.

   It was lunchtime by then so I fixed myself a sandwich and returned to
the sofa.  I ate then turned on my games console for a run round Skyrim.  I
had never played videogames naked before but, like everything else today, I
found it was a pretty enjoyable experience.

   I'd been playing for about an hour when, again, I was startled by
another knock at my door.  Once again, I jumped, but this time I more
quickly reassured myself.  People didn't call on me unannounced often, but
if they did, they weren't certain I would be home - just stay quiet and
still and they would go away.  As a precaution I muted the television and
then sat, still as a rock, remote in hand, and waited.

   I could hear voices at the door, and though I couldn't work out what
they were saying they started to sound familiar.  It took me a moment, but
I could soon make out the voices of my parents.

   My parents had obviously decided to stop by unannounced.  We lived not
far from each other and often did this, I would visit their house if
passing, and they would likewise sometimes call in on me if they had been
in town.  I thought it was nice of them to stop by, and I relaxed as I
reassured myself they would go away when they realised I wasn't in.

   Unless...

   Suddenly a terrific fear gripped me.  My parents, being my parents, had
a spare key to my flat.  They would use it to water my plants when I went
on holiday, but also sometimes to drop things off (usually food) if they
called round to deliver them and found I was out.

   What if...  what if this was one of those times?  What if my mum and dad
were the other side of that door with a casserole or a cake, about to let
themselves into my flat to discover me sitting there stark naked?  What
would they say?  They'd be shocked, and I'd be embarrassed...  but even
more so when I would have to explain to them why I was naked - and why I
wasn't able to spare all our blushes by going and putting clothes on!

   Fear sprang me into action.  My flat offered very little in the way of
hiding places.  But there was one possible escape route. 

   Using the remote I still had in my hand, I turned off the TV.  Let the
game still run - if the screen was off they wouldn't know I had been
playing.  Quickly I scrambled up from the sofa and grabbed the handle on
the glass door that led out onto my apartment balcony.  It was unlocked - I
pulled it open and propelled myself through, yanking the door quickly shut
behind me.  I noticed with relief that the light voile curtain I use to
grant privacy over the big balcony doors and lower the light without
blocking it out completely had fallen back into place, making it harder for
anyone in the flat to see out onto the balcony, then I crouched down,
barely concealed behind a potter fern, and held my breath.

   It was not a warm day and, five floors up on my balcony, there was quite
a breeze.  My bare skin prickled with gooseflesh and I shivered.  My
nipples were rock hard from the cold, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling. 
The metal rails of my balcony gave me no cover from the wind - or from
anyone in the nearby buildings.  I just had to hope nobody had chosen that
moment to look out of their window with close enough attention to see me
crouching there.

   My decision to hide out here, though, turned out to have been the right
one.  No sooner had I settled into my hiding place than I became aware of
people moving and raising their voices in the flat, calling my name.  Mum
and dad, just making sure I was genuinely out.  I crouched down, hoping
they would believe I wasn't home and wouldn't investigate this side of the
living room closely enough to notice me out here.

   Luckily, they appeared to accept that the flat was empty.  I heard them
moving away, even heard my front door close, but still I stayed motionless
on the balcony for a little while longer.  I didn't want to run the risk of
walking back in to find they had stepped back into the flat for some other
reason.  I stayed peering back into the glass door, straining my hearing
for any footstep or voice from the flat.  I was ignoring everything else
around me - the wind, the noise of the traffic below.

   I can only assume that was why I didn't realise she was there until I
stood up.

   "Excuse me?" came a voice.  "What are you doing?  Are you OK?  Why were
you hiding behind plant and why you have no clothes on?"

   My nerves must already have been shot.  That's the only explanation as
to why I didn't accidentally leap six feet into the air and topple off the
balcony to my death.  I whirled my head around.  Leaning on the rail of the
balcony adjacent to mine was my neighbour, Anna, a pretty blonde girl about
my age, originally from somewhere in Eastern Europe.

   "Are you OK?" she repeated.

   Words failed me, as did actions.  I stood there wide-eyed in shock - and
everything on show.

   "Sorry," she grinned.  "I did not scare you, I hope?"

   "Yes!" I squeaked, finally, a little too loudly.  I suddenly recalled
that I was naked, and tried as best I could to cover my breasts and my
crotch with my arms and hands.  I was, I am sure, beetroot red in the face
now too.



   "I am sorry," Anna grinned again.  "I was just not expecting to see you
out here in the nude.  I was curious."

   "It's OK," I gasped.  My normal voice seemed to be coming back now.

   "So what are you doing?" Anna asked again.

   I had no lie ready, all I could come out with was the truth - or a
variation.

   "Hiding from my family," I said.  "They called round and let themselves
in, I didn't want them to know I was home and see me."

   Anna looked thoughtful for a minute.  "Oh!" she said eventually. 
"Because you are naked!"

   I nodded.  "That's it."

   "But," Anna said, "why not just put your clothes back on?"

   "Well-" I began, then I stopped.  I couldn't really tell Anna what I'd
done, could I?  Not without looking like a weird idiot.  Well, more of a
weird idiot than I currently looked for standing out on my balcony stark
naked, telling my fully-clothed neighbour I was hiding from my family.

   I tried to affect an air of nonchalance, as if what I was doing was the
most usual thing in the world.

   "Well," I said again, "I just didn't want to get dressed."

   To my surprise, Anna laughed.  "I know how this is," she said.  "I am
some times like this also, naked at home, and it is not nice to have to
dress when you do not want to.  But I do not get unexpected visitors so I
do not worry so much."

   I smiled back, surprised that Anna had been so relaxed at my
explanation. She wished me a good day and returned to her own apartment,
and I gratefully stepped back into mine.  I closed the door behind me, deep
in thought.  Anna had just told me she had a habit of not always being
clothed at home herself.  I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised - like
me she lives alone, and she is of course European - probably, I told
myself, they are much more open-minded about nudity where she is from.  Why
shouldn't she walk around her own flat naked, just as I had been doing that
day?  It's a free country.

   But, the thought lingered.  Anna, basically, looks like a model.  I've
never been anything other than a heterosexual girl but I still find women
beautiful, and the thought of slender, blonde, gorgeous Anna wandering
around her apartment with nothing on gave me some very interesting
feelings. I retired to my bedroom, my hand almost unconsciously finding its
way between my legs, and soon I was masturbating again, laying on the bed,
fingers stimulating my sex, until I reached another delightful climax (this
time, in deference to Anna being home, I did at least try to mute some of
the noise I made).

   Spent and, I had to admit, once again relaxed and happy, I lay on my
bed. A strange notion gripped me.  It wasn't just learning that Anna had
some nudist tendencies of her own that had excited me.  Embarrassing though
it had been at the time, and much as I had acted with suitable modesty,
there had been something distinctly thrilling about being caught nude by a
clothed person, and standing there in front of them naked (even covering
myself) while they asked me about it.  This was very unusual for me!  I'd
just a few hours ago been deeply uncomfortable even being naked on my own,
and now I was getting worked up over having been naked in front of a
clothed acquaintance, even if it was just for a few moments.

   In some respects it was a troubling thought, and I tried to put it out
of my mind.

   The rest of my afternoon passed uneventfully.  My decision to not wear
any clothes for 48 hours required isolation, and so I had nothing to do but
watch TV and movies, play videogames, and catch up on a few domestic jobs.
I was again starting to regret how I'd enforced nudity on myself for so
long - it would have been nice to throw some clothes on and get out for an
hour or two, maybe meet some friends - and I knew now that I'd probably
have no reservations about getting naked again when I returned home.  I
wasn't lonely - I was regularly texting people or chatting on social media,
but they had no idea I was naked and I had to make a few excuses when the
prospect of meeting up was raised.  But being stuck at home was somewhat
uninteresting, and I wasn't really relishing another whole day without
leaving my flat tomorrow.

   The day drew to an end - the thing my parents had dropped off turned out
to be a lasagne, so I didn't even have to cook my dinner.  I had the great
idea to take a bath, spend a few hours luxuriating - but paused when I
remembered I had locked all my towels away in the closet and I'd probably
catch a cold sitting in my flat drip-drying.  In the end though, I figured
out a solution.  I sank happily into a warm, bubbly bath for an hour,
washing myself all over and making sure my legs, underarms and labia were
silky-smooth.  Then when I got out of the bath I sat on the rug on my
bedroom floor and used my hairdryer to warm myself and dry off all over,
before applying a generous amount of moisturiser.

   Feeling like a goddess, I curled up on my bed to sleep.  I'd locked away
my bed covers and sheets along with all my clothes (to say that now sounds
incredibly extreme, but at the time I had been trying to second guess
myself and imagine what I would have tried to do to avoid going through
with a naked weekend, and assumed I would probably wrap myself in sheets or
blankets if I was only deprived of clothing), but I was warm and
comfortable enough and I soon drifted off to sleep.

   -

   The noise that woke me was the most startling I had ever heard in my
life.

   Our building has a fire alarm system.  It isn't something we hear often,
but when it sounds, it does so in every flat and all the corridors and boy
is it loud!

   I woke with a start, eyes wide and confused.  I have heard the alarm go
off at night before but only maybe once or twice, and to hear it when you
are sound asleep is very scary.

   After a moment, as I realised what was happening, my sense of panic
subsided.  Usually, when the alarm sounds, it is because someone has been
smoking near a sensor and nothing to worry about.  Someone on the ground
floor will go and reset the alarm unit and it will all go quiet.  It's
annoying, but that's all.

   But as I sat there with my hands over my ears, the alarm simply went on
and on.  It didn't seem like anybody was going to be able to turn it off.
Maybe it was simply that there was nobody in on the ground floor to do it?
I could have gone down there myself but of course I had no clothes to wear
so I wasn't going to be able to leave my flat.  Surely someone would turn
it off eventually though?  I was starting to get worried.

   I sat there for a while, the alarm sounding.  Then, without warning,
someone knocked loudly and urgently on my apartment door.

   I froze, naked in my dark bedroom.  What was going on?  Hopefully they
would go away!

   But they didn't.  They knocked again, then I heard a man's voice calling
out.

   "Hello?  Is anyone in there?  This is the fire brigade.  Is anyone in
this flat?"

   I didn't know what to do!  I could just sit tight and say nothing and
they would almost certainly go away.  But, if it was really the fire
brigade, me pretending to not be home might mean I ended up in some sort of
terrible danger.

   But I couldn't answer my door naked, could I?

   In the end, feeling a growing sense of embarrassment, I got out of bed
and walked to the door.  I put the security chain on and stood awkwardly in
a position where, I hoped, the person on the other side wouldn't be able to
see around the door, and unlocked and opened the door a crack.

   "Hello?" I said awkwardly.

   The man at my door was definitely a fireman, in full protective clothing
and helmet.  I'd always been led to believe that firemen were phenomenally
handsome (as well as brave and strong) but this guy was fairly ordinary
looking and probably approaching 40.  He looked relieved as he saw my face
in the doorway.

   "Hello miss.  I'm afraid there's a fire in the building on the third
floor.  We're working to get it under control but as a precaution we need
to evacuate everyone from the upper floors, in case the fire spreads.  I
need you to make your way downstairs and outside as soon as you can."

   Downstairs!  Outside!  I was stark naked, and I didn't have a stitch of
clothing or anything approaching clothing to cover myself with.  My heart
stopped and my stomach sank.  Of all the days for this to happen...

   "Can't I stay here?" I asked, in a pleading voice.  I wasn't going to
tell him why, of course.  I was embarrassed both by my nakedness but also
the reason for it - that I'd put all clothing out of my reach because of my
own silly insecurities - and I didn't want to have to get into a discussion
about that with anyone.

   "No miss, I'm afraid not.  It's for your own safety - and ours.  We
don't want this to have to turn into a rescue operation.

   "Please make your way downstairs," the fireman said again, and began to
walk away down the corridor.  He obviously had to check every apartment.

   "No, wait!" I tried to call after him - but my voice wouldn't carry over
the loudness of the alarm.  "I don't have any clothes!" I squeaked in
desperation - but he didn't hear.

   I closed my door again.  I tried to think.  What could I do?

   I could defy the fireman's instruction and stay in my flat - but what if
the fire worsened?  What if I ended up trapped here and had to be rescued?
What if I got hurt, or even killed?  I'd never been in a building that was
on fire before, I didn't really know anything about fires - I wasn't about
to convince myself everything would be okay, just so I could avoid having
to go outside, when it might turn out to be the stupidest thing I had ever
done.

   I would have to go outside, just to be safe.

   But that would mean being completely naked out in the parking area of my
building, with probably a whole load of my neighbours and, of course, a
number of firemen!

   I looked desperately around my apartment for something to cover myself.
I'd been so incredibly, foolishly thorough in trying to force myself into a
weekend of constant nudity.  Every towel and sheet and piece of cloth and
of course every real item of clothing was all locked in my closet.  I
rattled the lock, but it was a surprisingly secure door, and although I
thought that if I had time I could probably break it open, it would take
more time than I potentially had - not to mention the damage to my flat
(which would not stand me in good stead with my landlord).  The time-locked
box where I had stashed the key was similarly robust - it would take a lot
of bashing or cutting to break it open, and I doubted there would be time
for that either.

   I briefly considered wrapping myself in tin-foil from the kitchen, the
only thing approaching covering I could find - but it seemed like that
would make very flimsy 'clothing' that I would probably tear off as I moved
- and anyway, it's debatable whether I'd look stranger to my neghbours
wrapped up like a Christmas turkey for the oven, or some sort of weird
spacewoman, than I would if I just went out as I was.  At least what I was
'wearing' now was acceptable sleep attire!

   In the end, with a horrible sick feeling, I realised my only option was
to walk outside completely naked.  I would just have to act as if I had
fled in panic while sleeping nude.  Maybe someone would take pity on me
enough to loan me something to cover myself with?

   Gripping my key tightly in my hand (I had no intention of adding getting
locked out to my list of woes) I gingerly opened my front door.  The
corridor outside was dim - part of the process with our fire alarm is that
regular lighting goes out and emergency lighting, to help direct to exits,
comes on.  That was a small mercy - at least I wasn't exposing myself in
bright and unforgiving light!

   There was nobody on the corridor, so with a deep breath to try to bring
some calm to my frantic nerves I stepped out into the corridor.  My door
closed itself behind me - I checked the key pressed into the palm of my
hand again.  Then, trying as best I could to cover my bare breasts and
crotch with my hands (as I had done when Anna caught me on the balcony
earlier) I set off towards the stairwell.

   I was moving at a pace, but I wasn't running - much as I wanted to get
out and to safety, it was hard for me to make myself dash full-pelt towards
the outside knowing that it would mean a whole bunch of people seeing I was
naked.  But I couldn't linger either and I soon reached the stairwell.  As
I descended, I was no longer alone - other people from other flats were
also going down the stairs both ahead of and behind me, and of course my
nudity wasn't going to escape notice.

   Nobody spoke to me though, and red-faced I fixed my eyes on the floor,
trying my best to ignore people's stares and the looks on their faces. 
That nobody could see my nipples and my pubic hair (which were covered by a
folded arm and a hand respectively) was little consolation - I was clearly
naked, and couldn't hide that fact from anyone, and every other part of me,
especially my butt, was bare to the world.  I was already feeling
humiliated and I hadn't made it outside yet.

   I reached the ground floor and the main entrance to the building.  The
fireman who had knocked on my door was holding the main entrance open,
ushering people through (and probably making sure the number of people
leaving matched the number he had ascertained were in the building.  When
he saw me coming towards him blushing and in my birthday suit he smiled and
raised an eyebrow - but I received no offer of anything to cover myself
with as I ran past him, the bastard!

   I ran through the door and out into the parking lot.  If I had felt
humiliated before on the stairs, it was nothing compared to bursting out of
the building into the cold night air, lit by outside lights and the
flashing blues of the fire engine, and just sort of standing there,
completely naked, trying desperately to cover myself and preserve some
modesty, while as one the assembled crowd of neighbours, firemen and other
random local people and passers by who had come to see what was happening
all turned to stare at me.

   Everything became a blur as my head whirled and my eyes filled with
tears.  I felt so ridiculous, and I had nobody to blame but myself.  It was
my own silly, vain insecurities that had got me here.  I'd been so filled
with anxiety about my body that I'd concocted this crazy plan, so sure I
would give in that I had made a situation for myself where being naked was
the only thing I could be - all to try and make myself feel better about my
body.  My body, which I now realised, too late, wasn't the horrid lumpy
thing I had in my head but was rather the same body as many women, soft and
curvy in the right places, the right body for me, and something which no
guy would ever complain about seeing intimately.  But it was too late
because instead of learning this and being able to enjoy my nudity in
private with a lover, I had ended up naked in public in front of a crowd of
people, all staring at me in shock, surprise, disbelief - and probably in
some cases lust and desire.

   I felt, to put it simply, a complete fool.

   It felt like an age that I stood there, blinking, tearful and thoroughly
embarrassed.  Nobody, I realised, was rushing forward to give me anything
to cover up with.  Were they all enjoying my humiliation?  Did they like
seeing me naked?  Or was it just that they had nothing to offer me?

   Then, salvation!

   "Nikki?"

   I looked at the speaker.  It was Tom, a guy who lived in one of the
apartments a floor below mine.  He was someone I knew well enough to talk
to when I saw him and had even had coffee with him on a couple of occasions
- a good-looking, dark-haired guy with hazel eyes and a kind smile.  But he
could have been Hannibal Lecter at that moment and I still would have been
glad to see him, because he was holding out to me a big-warm looking coat.

   "Put this on," he said.  I didn't need to be told twice.  I took the
coat from him and gratefully slipped my arms into the sleeves.  I realised
in doing so that I uncovered the parts of myself I had until now been
hiding with my arms and hands, treating the crowd to a second or two of an
even better view of me, before I quickly fastened the zip at the front of
the coat and finally, gratefully, covered up my nakedness.

   After nearly 24 hours without clothes on, the fabric of the lining felt
alien against by bare skin, but it was also a pleasant sensation, and I
felt my nipples stiffen beneath the coat.  But I didn't care, I was covered
up again!  I'm not a tall girl, and the coat (which was clearly Tom's and
had been what he had been wearing along with a t-shirt and sweatpants when
he'd left the building) covered me to just above my knees, with my hands
disappearing into the sleeves.  All but a faint residue of embarrassment
melted away, and I immediately enfolded a surprised Tom in a hug.

   "Thank you!" I exclaimed to my saviour - before awkwardly separating
from him, as I regained some composure and realised he probably hadn't been
expecting such a warm reaction.

   "You're...  welcome," he replied, a little taken aback.  "Um, I know
they were telling us we needed to leave quickly, but they do let us get
dressed normally before coming outside?"

   I blushed, again.  Of course, I wasn't going to tell Tom why I'd had to
run outside naked - to admit that I'd locked all my clothes and coverings
away and wouldn't have access to the key for another 24 hours or more was
going to make me sound like a crazy woman.

   "I panicked," I lied.  "The alarm was going off, they said there was a
fire, I was scared.  Just wanted to get out of there.  I kind of forgot I
wasn't wearing anything in bed and then it was too late..." I got tearful
again, remembering the humiliation - but I think it helped show myself to
Tom as someone who had acted out of genuine fear for her safety, rather
than because I'm a silly moo who had deliberately deprived herself of
clothes.  His protective instincts moved, he put an arm around my shoulders
and gave me an affectionate squeeze.

   "It's ok," he said, "I think they're getting the fire under control. 
You're alright."

   "Thanks for coming to my rescue," I repeated.  "I don't think anyone
else here was going to give me anything to cover up with."

   "Probably liked what they saw," he replied - a little too quickly.  An
embarrassed expression crossed his face as he realised what he might have
implied.  "Er, not that I didn't, of course!  That is...  what I mean
is..."

   I laughed, though.  His clumsily flirtatious manner made me feel more at
ease, and for a moment helped me forget how humiliated I had been. 
"Relax," I told him, "it's okay.  I understand, I'm grateful, and the only
thing I am going to read into you offering me a coat is that you are more
of a gentleman than anyone else here."

   Privately though, my internal confidence did a skip and a jump.  Tom had
flattered me by suggesting that the assembled people here might have been
glad to see me in the altogether, but more significantly, he had suggested
that he, personally, had both noticed how I looked and liked it.

   I stuck with Tom, chatting (and, yes, flirting) while the firemen fought
the fire.  Luckily, it turned out not to be serious (it ruined someone's
kitchen and did some small damage to the neighbouring flat but it didn't
spread further than that), and it was maybe an hour or so only before we
were allowed back into the building.  Much as I was enjoying Tom's company
I was glad of this - beneath the coat I was still naked, and it wasn't a
warm night.  Standing barefoot and bare-legged on the slightly damp tarmac
outside the building was not comfortable.  All the same, I was a little
disappointed - I hadn't spent much time with Tom for a while and it seemed
a shame to be bringing our chat to an abrupt end.

   It seemed as though Tom had the same feelings as we reached his floor.
"It was bloody cold out there," he exclaimed (I felt some guilt at
depriving him of his coat).  "Shall I put the kettle on?  You can run up
and get some proper clothes on and how about we have a cup of tea at my
place?"

   "Sure!" I said, happy to appear eager.  A hot cup of tea would be nice,
I thought.

   Only...  "some proper clothes?" My keenness turned to panic.  If Tom was
expecting me to run upstairs and come back with fully dressed he was in for
a surprise!

   But, my brain chided, he is cute, and when's the last time a guy asked
you in for a drink?

   I had to sort this.

   "Actually," I said, "can we just go to yours?"

   Tom looked at me, bundled up in his big winter coat.  I'm sure he
wondered what my game was.  Was I going to sit in his flat roasting in the
coat?  Or was I going to go all nudist and slip out of the covering as soon
as we were in a private place, and just hang out all naked and casual?

   (I'll not keep you in suspense, the only option I was entertaining was
the first one - I'd just have to be hot and uncomfortable, but at least I'd
be covered up).

   But, to his credit, he accepted my strange behaviour and we made our way
to his flat.  However, as he opened the door and we stepped inside, he
turned to me again and said; "are you sure you don't want to go up to yours
and get changed first?  It's quite alright."

   I shook my head.  I suppose I was blushing again.

   "Is everything alright Nikki?" he asked, concerned.

   I clamped my mouth shut, but I couldn't keep up the charade any longer.
It burst out of me.  "I haven't got any clothes!" I shouted.

   "Wh- what?" Tom was baffled.  "What do you mean?"

   Well, it all came out then.  Standing in the living room of Tom's flat,
I confessed everything to him - my insecurity, and my silliness.  I
explained how I had encountered the idea that casual nudity at home can
help a person feel better about their body and how, frustrated at my own
inability to go through with such a basic lifestyle change, I had
engineered a situation where I had to remain naked for an entire weekend
without being able to cover up in any way.

   "So this was probably not a good weekend for you for the building to
catch fire and everyone have to be evacuated?" Tom said.

   "That's an understatement," I replied wryly.

   I went on to describe hiding from my parents and getting caught by Anna
out on the balcony, before finally getting bang up to date with the fire
evacuation.

   "Wow," Tom said when I'd finished.  "Why didn't you just say in the
first place?"

   "I felt stupid," I explained.  "I think doing...  this to myself, well,
it's not been one of my best ideas, and having to explain it to someone
else I realise what an idiot it makes me."

   "You're not an idiot," Tom said warmly.  "You didn't know any of this
was going to happen.  You expected to just have a quiet weekend at home."
He paused.  "In your birthday suit."

   We both laughed at that.

   "Anyway," Tom continued.  "Would the newly-converted nudist object at
all if I found you some actual clothes to wear?"

   I couldn't hide my relief.  "Please?" I asked.

   Tom disappeared into his bedroom and I heard him opening some drawers. I
was still wearing the coat, of course, and as I stood in the living room I
began to feel uncomfortably warm.  Fortunately he came back quickly,
holding up a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.  "These do?"

   I nodded happily and he handed them to me.

   "You can change in here," he said, motioning to the bedroom.  "I'll put
the kettle on."

   I went into Tom's bedroom and closed the door behind me.  Safe in
privacy, I unzipped the coat and with relief slipped it off and tossed it
onto the bed.  Any longer in that thing and I'd have been cooked.

   I paused before picking up the clothes Tom had loaned me.

   Tom had a full length mirror on the door of his closet, and I examined
my reflection.

   Because of my insecurities, I had until now insisted on darkness or near
darkness when making love, and I had always reached for a t-shirt or robe
as soon as we had finished.  So, really, this was my first time seeing
myself naked in a man's bedroom in full, bright light.

   I had to admit, my day of enforced nudism had given me a change in
perspective.  I looked, well, not too bad.  I turned to the side, to view
myself in profile.  My stomach wasn't flat, but it wasn't the big wobbly
belly my dysmorphic brain had been telling me I had, either - and if I
sucked in my gut slightly I could almost achieve the figure I had long
believed was unattainable.  And boobs!  I had big boobs!  Not huge droopy
udders but full, round breasts, the sort of breasts a lot of girls wish
for. Sure, I had a roundness to my hips, and my thighs touched, and my
bottom could use a little toning...  but these were things I suddenly found
I could live with, because I realised now, my figure was, well, nice.  I
was starting, for the first time in a long while, to feel good about
myself.

   I slipped on the faded black t-shirt Tom had left me - it was big on me
but I don't think he'd deliberately left me an overlarge one in a statement
about my weight - and went to pull on the shorts.  But although I got them
up, the cut and the waist was all wrong - they were designed for a sporty
boy, not a curvy-hipped girl, and they weren't comfortable.

   I studied my reflection again.  The t-shirt Tom had loaned me came to
below the middle of my thighs and gave me plenty of coverage.  I'd seen
girls wear dresses shorter than that and retain their modesty.  I slipped
off the shorts again and gave a few steps and twirls in the mirror.  My
bare bottom and my private parts remained safely covered beneath the hem of
the t-shirt.

   Well, I reasoned, we're just having a cup of tea.  It's not like I need
to be fully-dressed - just...  decent.  And I'd just discovered my
confidence, it would be nice to use it.

   And, another part of my brain whispered, you have been flirting...

   So when I left Tom's bedroom to rejoin him, I was only wearing the long
t-shirt.  I had to admit, it was starting to feel exciting, being alone and
almost undressed with a man I found attractive, and little bursts of
sensual energy ran through me.  Which then became embarrassing, as I
realised that in just a cotton t-shirt and no bra it was going to be more
than a little obvious I was getting somewhat worked up.

   Tom, it appeared, may have noticed this, and he definitely noticed the
lack of shorts protruding from below the hem of the t-shirt.  He seemed
lost for words for a moment and I quickly sat down at the kitchen table
with him (sitting, the t-shirt didn't cover much of anything so I crossed
my legs and hoped he wouldn't have a reason to peek beneath the table) and
carefully concealed my breasts by leaning forwards toward the table, just
until my nipples could calm down.

   Tom presented me with a steaming hot cup of tea and we sat and chatted
while our drinks cooled.  Most of the conversation still revolved around my
unique weekend experiment, and my protestations of how silly I'd been to
lock all my clothes away.

   "You keep saying you've been silly," Tom said at one point, "and I think
you have.  But not for the reasons you think you have.

   "You were silly," he continued, "to ever think there was anything wrong
with your body in the first place."

   I blushed.  "You really mean that?"

   "You're gorgeous," he concluded, "and any bloke with eyes will tell you
the same."

   "Well, nobody has so far."

   "Okay, well I'm telling you now.  You don't need to lock your clothes in
a closet and live like a naked hermit for a weekend to feel good about
yourself.  You just need to listen to your mates and anyone who has a nice
thing to say about you, and stop listening to anyone who doesn't."

   I felt overwhelmed.  I wasn't used to compliments but something Tom said
struck a chord.  It wasn't actually that I never got any compliments - but
it was just that I'd always dismissed them, never believing them, and had
always focussed instead on any (real, or imagined) criticism.  But now,
what Tom was saying - I had no reason to doubt that.  He'd seen a lot more
of me than most people I knew tonight, and he was telling me now I was
gorgeous?  A warm feeling spread over me.

   We talked more, and I finished my tea.  I was starting to feel sleepy,
and although Tom was fine company I wanted my bed.

   "I should be going," I yawned.  Tom looked disappointed but he nodded.

   "Are your clothes still under lock and key?" he asked.

   I nodded.  "Til Monday morning."

   He laughed.  "Well, if you need to borrow some more clothes, just pop
round.  I'm in all day."

   I smiled.  "Thanks.  I don't know that I will, though.  To be honest, I
really rather like being naked around my flat now..."

   He spluttered a little on his tea at that!

   I gave him a friendly hug goodnight and he showed me out of his flat.  I
headed for the stairs and climbed up one floor.  It was only as I was
reaching my door that I realised - I didn't have my key!  It was still
where I had left it, in the pocket of Tom's coat.

   I headed quickly back downstairs.  Although I had the t-shirt on I was
still somewhat scantily clad for roaming the public areas of the building -
fortunately the late hour meant it was still and quiet.  Even so I didn't
want to linger.

   I knocked lightly on Tom's door.  He answered straight away, and his
face lit up when he saw it was me.

   "Sorry," I said, "forgot my key.  It's still in your coat."

   He looked a little disappointed at that - perhaps he'd been hoping I'd
come back for another reason.  I waited in the open doorway while he
disappeared off to get the key.

   I hadn't meant to disappoint him, and I felt a little guilty.  He'd been
so kind to me, he deserved something back.  A seldom-used and very naughty
part of my brain started to stir...

   Tom came back a moment later and handed me my key.  But I didn't say
goodnight straight away.

   "I wanted to thank you, as well," I said.  "For the loan of the
t-shirt."

   "Oh, that's alright," Tom began, but I cut him off.

   "And," I continued, "I wanted to bring it back to you."

   He looked confused, but before he had chance to say anything else I
grasped the hem of the t-shirt and in one swift, fluid movement, pulled it
up off and over my head, and bundled it into Tom's hands.

   Tom's eyes were wide.  I stood there for a moment in silence, smiling at
him, arms clasped behind my back, letting him see fully my naked body,
exposing breasts, nipples, pubic hair, everything.

   Then I was done.  "Goodnight Tom!" I called, and turning I streaked away
up the corridor.  I looked over my shoulder briefly as I ran, and to my
immense satisfaction saw Tom staring after my bare bottom with a dazed and
happy look on his face.  Then I reached the stairwell and disappeared from
his view, bounding quickly up the stairs and racing back to my own flat
before anyone else could appear and see my nudity.  I unlocked the door and
burst through, flinging it shut behind me.  Giddy and panting for breath, I
fell on the bed, my hand finding its way instantly between my legs.  One
quickly-achieved and incredibly intense orgasm later, I fell swiftly into a
deep and satisfied sleep.

   -

   I awoke late on Sunday morning.  Bleary and half-asleep, I was confused
at first.  Where were my bed covers and sheets?  Why was I naked?  Where
were my clothes?

   Oh.

   OH.

   It all came flooding back to me in an instant.  My crazy plan.  Hiding
on the balcony.  Being forced to go outside naked in front of everyone
because of the fire.  Tom.

   Oh my God, I'd flashed Tom.

   No, not flashed.  Flashing's a cheeky glimpse, a quick lift of a top or
skirt.  I'd stripped off the only item of clothing I'd been wearing right
in front of him, handed it to him and let him have a good look at my naked
body before I'd sprinted off, still starkers.

   I felt, well, not embarrassed exactly.  But definitely I had that
"morning after", "did I really do that?" feeling?

   But, I told myself, it was fun.  I had enjoyed it, to the point where it
had aroused me, even showing myself to him for that little short while.  So
I wasn't going to regret it.

   Although it did mean that I had rather foolishly returned to him the one
wearable item of clothing I'd had in my possession for the past 36 hours!

   I tried to look on the bright side.  I had no plans to go out today and
I certainly wasn't feeling any need to be dressed around my flat any more.
I rather suspected that clothing was going to be something I only bothered
with for going outside and for when I had company from here on, so I wasn't
in any way unhappy about the prospect of spending one more day in the nude
(and let's not forget, that was my original plan anyway).

   Of course, the t-shirt would have come in handy as an emergency
cover-up, something I had needed very much yesterday - and although the
odds of the same coincidentally terrible events happening again today were
astronomical, I had to admit I would have felt slightly better if I was in
some way prepared, just in case my parents popped in again or, God forbid,
someone else decided to set their flat on fire.

   I decided to at least try and head off the first of those before it
could happen again.  I fixed myself some breakfast and then I telephoned my
mum, ostensibly to thank her for the lasagne and apologise for having been
'out' when she called yesterday - but also to imply that I would be rather
indisposed the rest of today, to discourage her and my dad from thinking it
would be worth them 'just popping by' again.

   I must admit it felt rather strange to sit there naked on my sofa and
have a phone conversation with my mother, hearing her voice while all the
while knowing she had no idea how I was dressed (or not dressed, as it
were).  I doubted my family would have approved of my new-found enjoyment
of nudity, and they certainly would have been shocked to hear of all I had
gotten up to last night!  Not least because my family, like most people who
know me, would have been used to me as someone who was shy and modest and
insecure about her body, and the 'new' me would have been something for
them to get used to.

   Parents (hopefully) dealt with, I settled in to a relaxed morning of
games and TV.  I was really feeling much more comfortable in my bare skin
now, and was able to really enjoy the freedom of a day without clothes.

   Of course, peace and relaxation wouldn't last, and sure enough there was
soon a knock at the door.

   I froze, once again determined to pretend to be out and let them leave
me alone to my nudity.  But then, what if it was Tom?

   Even if it wasn't, I was feeling more confident.  Maybe I could have a
conversation with them through the door, and leave it at that?  If it was
someone who needed to come in, maybe I could even call Tom and get him to
bring me some clothes up?

   I went to the door.

   "Who is it?" I called out.

   "Anna," came the reply.  "From next door."

   That was a surprise!  Anna has always been friendly and we had often
chatted when passing but she had never called on me before - nor I on her.

   I unlocked my door and cracked it open.  As with the fireman last night
I used to door to shield my body from view, just pushing my face into the
opening of the door.

   Anna was stood in the corridor, smiling in a friendly way.

   "Hi," she said.  "Are you okay?"

   "Yes," I answered, "fine.  How are you?"

   "I'm fine also," Anna answered.  "Only...  my friend downstairs was
telling me about what happened last night.  With the fire alarm and all of
the people having to be being evacuated.  And saying there was one girl who
did not have clothes on.  This was you?"

   I blushed and nodded.

   "But you are okay?"

   I nodded again.

   "Is maybe okay if I come in?" Anna asked.

   I paused.  "Well...  you see, I, um, still don't have any clothes on."

   Anna raised her eyebrows.  "I was thinking this might be.  Is why I have
come over.  I am worrying about you.  I would like to have a talk.  If is
okay with you.  I will wait while you put something on?"

   God, this was awkward!  I hated appearing so rude to Anna, when she was
obviously only looking out for my wellbeing.  I realised I didn't want to
tell Anna to go away, I actually did want someone to talk to then and
there. But letting her in, well, that would be embarrassing for me.

   I'd look worse if I lied to her, though.  I should be truthful.

   "Listen, Anna," I said.  It's not that I won't get dressed, or don't
want to get dressed.  It's that I can't get dressed.  I, um, don't actually
have any clothes to wear.  They're all locked in my closet and I can't get
to the key."

   "What is this?" Anna replied.  "I am not understanding."

   "Well," I said, "it takes some explaining..."

   Then, something in my head just clicked.  Like a switch, one that went
from 'awkward and embarassed' to 'relaxed and confident'.

   "You know what?" I said to Anna, "if you still want to, you can come
in."

   Anna smiled.  "I am not prude," she said.  "I do not mind if you are not
wearing clothes.  It will be nice to hear this story."

   I took a deep breath and unchained and opened the door.  Anna stepped
quickly inside so I could close the door behind her.  She smiled warmly
when she saw me.

   For a few moments there was an awkward silence between us.  I hadn't
planned on speaking to anyone today and I certainly hadn't expected to
receive a visitor.  Yet here I was, standing in my hallway completely naked
and welcoming my fully-clothed neighbour inside.

   Anna, I realised, was looking me over.  I fought the urge to cover
myself with my hands - that was just silly.  She'd already seen everything
now, and it wasn't like I could spend the whole time with my hands over my
privates.

   "You are very lovely," Anna said.  "I hope this is okay for me to say?"

   I just blushed, and she laughed.  Feeling awkward, I hurriedly showed
her into the living room, and offered her a coffee or tea - she chose
coffee.

   I went into the kitchen to make it.  Playing the host while naked felt
very strange to me.  It was a supreme effort to be walking around and doing
things as if this was completely normal - I was constantly very conscious
of what was on show and felt very exposed.  But at the same time, it wasn't
exactly an unpleasant feeling.

   I returned with two hot drinks and sat down on my sofa opposite Anna.

   "Are you sure you don't mind me being naked?" I asked her.  "If I went
to visit someone and they were just walking around naked in front of me I
would be a little unnerved to say the least."

   But Anna shook her head.  "No," she said.  "Is fine.  Back in Russia
where I am from, nudist is quite common thing to be," Anna said.  "Is cold
but when is not cold it is nice to go to the forest or the river and take
off clothes, nobody is shocked and many young men and women do this.  I am
often with my friends naked as teenager.  Also many of other ages do it
also.  I am not shocked to see naked body.  If you are feeling okay with
being naked body!"

   I laughed.  "To be honest, it feels a little awkward to me."

   Anna nodded sympathetically.  Then her face brightened.  "I know!" she
exclaimed, "I have idea to make less awkward for you!"

   Before I knew what she was doing, Anna had put down her coffee and
pulled her t-shirt off over her head.  She had very small breasts, almost
to the point of being flat-chested, and wasn't wearing a bra.  She dropped
the t-shirt on the floor and, as I watched in amazement, she unfastened her
jeans.  She leaned forward to pull off her shoes and then yanked down her
jeans, sliding them over her feet and off, along with her socks.  Lastly,
she put her thumbs in the waistband of her plain cotton panties and pulled
them down, stepping out of them and sitting back down.  I stared,
open-mouthed - Anna was now as naked as I was.

   "There," she said, "is better, yes?  Now we are both having no clothes
on.  You are not on your own any more."

   I looked at her.  Anna was lovely.  Slim, skinny in fact - she had only
the most delicate curves.  Her nearly-flat chest gave her an athletic
appearance.  Her skin was a lovely even, golden tone and although she now
sat demurely with her legs crossed (as did I), I had caught enough of a
glimpse between her legs as she removed her panties to see she was shaved
completely smooth down there.

   I'm sure I was blushing now.  I'm the sort of person who politely averts
her eyes in communal changing rooms and feels embarrassed if a friend
changes her top in front of me.  To have a friend - not even a friend
exactly, just someone I knew who was young like me and friendly - come into
my home and then take off all her clothes - while I was myself already
naked in front of her - was more than a little overwhelming.

   I found my voice.  "You...  you don't have to be naked too, Anna."

   She laughed.  "I know.  But is nice.  As I say, I am often being naked
with friends back home.  English here are not so free, I think.  Is nice to
meet someone who does not feel that is important to be covered all the
time."

   She looked round the room.  "Sorry!" she exclaimed.  "I am making mess
of your apartment." So saying, she got to her feet and began to fold and
tidy the clothing she had just removed.  I was wide-eyed again - let's just
say she was very unselfconscious about what she was revealing, especially
bending down to pick things up off the floor!  I have to admit, I admired
how relaxed and liberated Anna was.  Her manner about the fact she was
naked was exactly how I was coming to feel I should also be.  I wasn't sure
I was there yet, but maybe one day I could be?

   Clothes tidied, Anna sat back down and sipped her coffee.  "Lovely," she
declared.

   "So..." she said, "why is it again that you are not having any clothes
to wear?"

   I told Anna the story once again.  This time I was able to laugh at
myself, at the ridiculousness of what I'd been doing and how I had ended up
in the situation I was now in.

   "So you are not normally doing this?" Anna said.  I realised then that I
had maybe somehow given Anna the impression that this sort of 'nudist'
lifestyle I was practising was something I did all the time.  I wondered if
maybe that's why she had come round and had almost immediately taken off
her own clothes.

   "No," I said, "in fact, before this weekend I couldn't bear to be naked
even by myself, let alone sitting here with you like this."

   "My goodness!" Anna exclaimed, "why not?"

   "Well," I said, "I just hated my body.  If it was uncovered I had to
look at it, and looking at it made me unhappy about all the things it
wasn't that I wished it was."

   Anna looked at me, eyes full of sympathy.  "But you are beautiful?" she
said.

   "I don't feel it a lot of the time," I replied sadly.

   "Well, I would love to have your body," Anna said.  I looked at her,
slender and nude and glowing healthily.  I found that hard to believe, but
she continued.  "I am so flat in the chest.  I would love to have beautiful
breasts like you have."

   This was something of a revelation to me.  I had spent so long hating my
body and wishing I had the body of another woman, that it had never
occurred to me that someone else would be envious of my body as well!

   Anna and I sat and chatted for quite a while after that.  Sitting and
having coffee together naked was definitely very unusual, but I found that
despite myself I was rather enjoying it.  There was an openness to being
nude with each other that made it feel as though we were old friends rather
than two women who had until today only really been neighbours and casual
acquaintances.  And though Anna's sudden stripping off had caught me by
surprise, I found I did appreciate the gesture, and it helped make me a
little less self-conscious about my own nudity.  That said, I was still
very aware I was naked, and that in itself had a certain charm, returning
some of the excitement I had felt the previous day at being seen naked by
others.  I still wasn't quite ready to give certain meaning to this or
understand it, but I was becoming aware that, in certain circumstances, it
was actually rather fun to have no clothes on and someone else's eyes on
me.

   Anna and I ended up having lunch together and she assisted me in the
kitchen with preparing it - both of us nude, of course.  After lunch, she
did have to leave, but before she donned her clothes it was my turn to
surprise her, as I gave her a big, nude hug, which she happily
reciprocated. Feeling her warmth and bare skin against my own was lovely,
and we parted closer than ever, with a promise to make hanging out, and
hanging out without clothes, a regular occurrence in future.

   After Anna had dressed and left, I was alone again.  It was early
afternoon, and I was down to maybe the last 12 hours or so of my naked
experiment.  All the same, I reasoned, that was still 12 hours when
anything could happen and I still wasn't really prepared for how I would
manage circumstances which required me to have some clothes to hand.  I
didn't feel like getting dressed, I was enjoying being naked, but it would
be nice to have access to clothes in case I needed them.

   I decided to dedicate some time to fixing this problem.  First I
examined the time-locked box, but I couldn't see any way of getting around
that easily.  So I then turned my attention to the closet.  Using a few
improvised tools, I sat cross-legged in front of the door and tried various
methods of picking the lock.  It wasn't a complicated lock, and with the
right tools and a bit of knowledge I probably would have managed to get it
open eventually - unfortunately, I had neither, I'd never picked a lock
before and I was limited to what I could find in my kitchen drawers.  After
a number of educational but fruitless events, I gave up and spent an hour
or two reading instead.

   It was supper time now - and an idea which I'd had for a while began to
take hold on me and refuse to go away.

   Anna and I had talked about quite a few things that morning but one of
the things that had come up for discussion was Tom, and the definite spark
between us.  Anna, being the sort of woman who is confident enough to talk
her way into a neighbour's flat and then take off all her clothes, had
given me some choice advice along the lines of not being afraid to be more
forward with him, and I was beginning to come around to that idea myself.

   I had Tom's number, so I texted him, asking if I could borrow something
to wear.  I didn't actually want to get dressed, but I felt I needed a
pretext to talk to him.

   He was slow to text back, but keen when he did.

   'Sure' he replied.  'You gave me back the t-shirt so shall I bring some
things up to you?'

   'No,' I answered.  'I'll come down.'

   Well, that was definitely sending Tom some sort of signal.  I'd told him
that I was going to come to his flat and, unless he'd forgotten from last
night, he would know that would mean I was going to arrive without a stitch
on.  I wondered what it must be like for him to now be expecting a visit
from a naked girl?

   I went to the fridge and took out the dish of lasagne my parents had
left the day before.  There was still a lot left, mum always makes loads of
food.  I gathered up the lasagne and my flat keys and left the flat.

   It was surprisingly cold out in the corridor to be walking around with
no clothes on.  I felt more than a little nervous as I headed to the
stairs. This was, after all, the public part of the building and I could
easily run into another neighbour, or a visitor, going to or from one of
the other flats.  I'd have even less ability to explain my nakedness now,
than I had last night - at least then during the evacuation things had been
panicky, but now everything was normal - and the only excuse I could give
for walking around naked was that I wanted to.

   I descended the stairs and walked the little way to Tom's door.  I
knocked and stood nervously, naked and holding a covered over dish of
lasagne, until the door opened.

   Tom's face went through a number of expressions when he saw me.  He'd
obviously been expecting me to arrive nude, and had probably been
practising a casual, nonchalant expression which would say "oh, naked women
come here all the time, this is absolutely not a big deal to me." But as it
was, when saw I was all on display with none of the modest covering up I
had, he had difficulty concealing both his surprise, and his delight.

   "Nikki, hi!" he said, inviting me inside.  I gratefully stepped into his
flat, which like mine was warm and cosy.  Lingering in the corridor getting
cold and risking being seen would not have been good.

   "I've laid out some clothes you might be able to wear in the bedroom,"
Tom said.  "You didn't say what you needed but hopefully there will be
something there that's okay."

   "Thanks Tom," I said, "I really appreciate it.  Only..." I had
butterflies in my stomach now, but I was determined to continue, "I don't
actually think I need to be getting dressed right away.  If you don't mind,
of course?" The look on his face said he really didn't.  "I wanted to say
how grateful I was for you looking after me last night and, well, my mum
made lasagne and I've got a lot left so I was thinking maybe you and I
could have dinner together tonight?"

   Tom looked like Christmas had come early.  "You and I?" he said.  I
nodded.  "Dinner?  With you, um, naked?"

   I nodded again.  "Well, you've seen everything already!  And besides,
I'm really starting to like having no clothes on.  It's becoming very
comfortable for me."

   I smiled then, and Tom smiled back.  "Sure," he said, "it would be an
absolute pleasure to have dinner with a beautiful naked woman who has
brought me lasagne."

   I grinned at that and we headed to the kitchen.

   It didn't take long to heat up the lasagne and we sat down to eat.  Tom
didn't have any wine but he had a few beers in the fridge and I was happy
to drink one with him.  In deference to my nudity (or maybe to make things
more 'date-like'?) he'd dimmed the lights in the dining area, but it was
still bright enough that I had everything on display.  I made no moves to
cover myself this time, and although it was definitely a strange sensation,
I was happy.  Tom couldn't take his eyes off my body, and in truth that
excited me tremendously.

   We ate and chatted and, whether a result of our growing closeness or my
naked state, the conversation gradually turned a little more intimate.  I
stopped short of inviting him to bed explicitly, but I think Tom was left
in no doubt as to what I wanted, and what I thought he wanted as well.

   Sure enough, after dinner I offered to help Tom clear and clean, and as
I stood at the kitchen counter I felt Tom step up behind me and, pressing
close to my naked back, he gently kissed the side of my neck.

   A shiver of pleasure ran through me at his warmth and his touch.  I
reciprocated, leaning back into him, and he kissed me again, reaching up to
cup my bare breasts in his warm hands.

   I turned to face him, looking up at him with a big smile on my face.  I
wrapped my arms around his neck and we kissed, open mouthed, tongues
exploring, for quite a long time.

   Our hands were busy, too - Tom sensuously stroking my bare back and the
curves of my butt.  I brought my own hands down and as I brushed the front
of his jeans I felt the solid, round stiffness of his prick, erect and
straining against the fabric.

   Wordless mutual agreement led us to the bedroom, and to the bed, where I
lay down.  Tom pulled off his t-shirt, revealing a muscular, lightly hairy
chest, and dressed only in his jeans joined me on top of the covers.  His
kisses again covered my neck and then moved down, his lips brushing my
collar bone before he came to my breasts and took first one, then the other
nipple in his mouth.  I gasped at the sensation, my areolas puckering and
stiffening in pleasure.  I pulled him up and on top of me and kissed him
hungrily, my hand again finding the front of his jeans and that pulsing
stiffness within.

   I was taking Anna's advice and I wasn't being coy.  I fumbled open the
button of his jeans and drew down his fly and reached inside.  I breathed
sharply - Tom hadn't been wearing any underwear, just his jeans, and now my
hand wrapped softly around his unrestrained and rock hard prick.

   Tom pulled back, and slipped off his jeans.  It was my turn now to look
surprised - Tom was hung!  Not like some cartoonish, over-huge porn star,
but definitely among the biggest I have encountered in my own life.

   He saw me looking, and grinned.  Clearly he didn't have any confidence
issues about his own body - but now, here in his bedroom, nor did I.  I
arched my back, pushing out my breasts, and beckoned to him.  He came to me
without hesitation, nude now as I was, and very much ready.

   I put a hand between my own legs, feeling wetness with my fingertips. 
Tom, aroused by the gesture, placed his hands on my knees and spread my
legs.  Gently, perhaps aware from experience of how some girls had
difficulty with his size, he entered me - but I was ready, and eager to
take him.

   And then, we fucked.  Fluidly, naturally, he worshipped my body with his
own, responding to my own moans and sighs, touching and caressing me, and
showing appreciation to my own touching of him.  First with me on top,
riding him, then a shift in position and he was behind me, hands on my hips
as he came closer to the edge.  I was near to cumming myself, and thought
that was it, but suddenly Tom shifted position again, flipping me over.  I
lay back on the bed and he entered me again, fucking me hard now, his cock
finding my spot, bringing me to a loud and breathless climax.  He came
himself, then, pulling out at the last possible moment, arching his back as
thick cum squirted from the end of his manhood, over my breasts and belly.
I giggled, dazed and seeing stars from my own orgasm, but he wasn't done
then and he slid two fingers inside me, stimulating me with his other hand
until he brought me back, to cum again, longer and more sustained this
time, until I had to push his hand away from me, unable to take any more.

   Spent and satisfied we curled up on his bed (once I had cleaned up) and
dozed happily.  A few hours later we awoke and, kissing passionately, we
resumed again.  Wearing a condom this time he came inside of me, holding me
close, and continuing beyond his own climax until I achieved my own.  Then,
sleep again.

   I awoke at something like 4 in the morning, wrapped in Tom's duvet, his
scent and mine still heavy in the air.  I climbed out of bed, quietly so as
not to wake him, and walked out of the bedroom.

   Still naked, I opened the door of his flat and stepped into the
corridor. I headed back to my own flat, unlocking the door, and walked to
the kitchen counter.  I picked up the time-lock box.  The lid was loose and
swung open as I lifted it - the time had finally expired.  I withdrew the
key I'd concealed there and went to my closet.  I unlocked the door and
opened it.  There, inside, were all my clothes, just as I had left them -
everything I needed, everything I could have used to cover myself with over
the weekend, especially at those times when I had really been in trouble.

   I paused a moment, ran my hand over some of the fabrics.  I looked down
at myself, at my bare skin, my naked body, and smiled.

   Then I closed the closet door (this time without locking it), walked
back out of my flat, and back downstairs to Tom's.

   Well, we had a few hours yet before I had to get dressed for work.  I
was going to make the most of them!