A pretty woman I am. Or should I say instead: I was a pretty one? And if I "was", what am I now?
All will agree that I was pretty. Good figure, pretty face, a mass of auburn, slightly curly hair. On my head and in the patch down between my legs.
Pretty, yes, but how about my character? Oh, all would agree that I was independent and self-assured. Some would say I had a definite vice, however: I liked to be naked. Ever since I had left home, I preferred to shed my clothes whenever I was alone in my apartment. There was an erotic tinge to that at first, but my need did not derive from devious tendencies alone. Being naked felt pure and natural to me; that was why. So it came to happen that I opened the door to one of my friends in that state. When I saw her face, I immediately realised my mistake. We laughed, I got dressed and that was that.
But it happened again, and again, to female and male friends. As I studied visual arts, my friends stemmed from artsy circles, where apparently few taboos prevailed. So my nakedness got to be accepted: my slightly taller than average, slender frame, my small but round breasts, my juicy butt, my two patches of auburn hair. I would receive my friends undressed; some got to reciprocate the gesture, some would not. I even hosted parties that way. Was my nakedness an open invitation to make a pass at me? Sure, I slept around, but I was as choosy as the next person and I had friends whom I would not have dreamt sleeping with. The strength of my attitude was such that I remained in charge, naked but not vulnerable.
Read the full story in her e-book 'Menagerie and other erotic stories' HERE (press the link to see details - look for Volume 12.)
She is proud of this as she humbly find herself among great colleagues.
Now it needs to be bought!
As the book is currently unavailable, do contact me if you want to read the rest. We'll make an arrangement. Or I could reissue via Lulu by popular demand, for example.
Copyright by Vanna Vechian, 2003. Reproduction allowed only for personal use.
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