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Exposing Oneself, a Sexual Disorder

By: SusanJillParker



After years of flashing her shapely body to any and every man looking her way, after years of struggling to control the urge to flash and wrestling with guilt, when she couldn't, after years of private psychotherapy and group therapy, Susan thought she was cured of her sexual disorder of flashing. Nearly raped the last time she showed herself late at night on an empty subway train was the catalyst for her to get help. She swore that exposing herself would never happen again.

Driven by the urge to flash, always planning an appropriate time and plotting the perfect place to show her shapely body, she was consumed by an inherent horniness that was only satisfied by exposing herself and masturbating over the experience of flashing later. Not understanding why she needed and wanted to show herself, wishing she didn't feel so compelled to show her body to men, she spent years of her life flashing her panties and her bra, and showing her ass, her pussy, and/or her breasts to relatives, friends, co-workers, and random men on the street. Every man she's ever known has seen some part or all of her naked body. Too many men she didn't even know have seen too much of her body. Thanks to therapy, glad that she was finally saved from herself, her need to expose herself was behind her or was it?

A somewhat rare condition for women, typically men are the ones with this particular sexual disorder of exposing themselves. A psychological condition that manifests itself in them flashing their cocks to unsuspecting women for a sexual thrill and to masturbate over later, Susan loved flashing her body to unsuspecting men to masturbate over their shocked look of surprise later. Only, when men flash their cocks to women, they are hunted, until arrested. Conversely, when women flash their bodies to men, they are wanted and dated.

After not having the urge to flash herself for several years, her need to flash herself started again, when she went outside to take out the trash. An innocent and innocuous chore, something she's done many times before, had she known that something as simple as taking out the trash would cause her to lapse and flash again, she never would have walked outside to empty her trash bag in the barrel. If only she had stayed inside her townhouse, if only she had been wearing her jeans and sweatshirt, none of this would have happened. Yet, perhaps, fate had intervened and what happened to poor Susan was kismet, as her flashing abstinence ended that day.

A prelude to summer, it was a late spring day with temperatures nearly high enough to be summer. Just coming out of the shower, hoping to beat the trash pickup, she heard the trash truck in the distance making its way down her street. Grabbing her robe and slippers, she grabbed her bag of trash and headed for the trash barrel that she had put out last night. A household chore that should have taken only a minute turned into a flashing nightmare, after the neighbor's dog toppled her trash barrel again.

"Get out of there, Buster. Beat it," she chased away the neighbor's dog that had knocked the trash barrel over and littered garbage everywhere.

As she squatted down to pick up everything, with her knees unmindfully parted, she felt a cool breeze blow beneath her robe, one that elicited a familiar feeling, when she was flashing. Suddenly, she felt so open. She felt to naked. She felt so exposed. She felt so horny. 

Even though the sudden breeze felt freeing and good, the urge to flash felt controlling and bad. The sensation of the gentle wind fanning across her pussy lips tickled her pubic hair, as if the gentle breeze was nature's natural lover. It was then that she realized her furry flower was exposed to anyone passing. Yet, with most people already having left for work, few passersby were out at this hour of the morning, unless they were walking their dogs.

Then, when one part of her robe slipped from her thigh, even though she was still fully covered, she had the urge to flash. Remembering how she had flashed the pizza delivery guy, the mail man, the UPS man, the Fedex man, the Jehovah Witnesses, political campaigners running for office, petitioners wanting her to sign their petitions, traveling salesmen, and anyone and everyone who came knocking at her door in this very robe, she suddenly had the need to flash herself again. Not having had that urge, since she finished her therapy several years ago, her need to flash returned full force and with a vengeance. She'd call her psychiatrist, Dr. Jones, as soon as she went in the house. Maybe all she needed to control her abnormal urge to expose herself again was just another session of group therapy.

Nonetheless, now more mindful of the inherent flashing opportunity of her robe, especially in the way she squatted down and was so exposed with her knees apart, flashing her pussy to anyone she saw looking would be so easy. With the excitement of flashing creeping in her conscious mind, all she had to do was to turn more one way or twist the other, while opening her knees wider, on the pretense of picking up trash. In the way she squatted down now, she'd make her flash appear accidental to anyone looking and when it came to seeing any part of her, because she was beautiful, there was always someone looking.

Yet, beauty aside, whenever any women is showing anything, there is always someone looking. Even though she was supposedly cured from showing her naked body to men, she wasn't free from the thoughts of showing her naked body to men. Yet, so long as she could control the urge to flash, she was okay.

Still being cured from flashing didn't stop her from thinking about flashing. If she had the urge and the need to show more of her body, which suddenly she did, all she had to do was to loosen the tie around her waist. Then, when she stood, her bathrobe tie would fall and with just a quick twist and a fast turn, her robe would open.

With her robe open, her C cup breasts would spill out, first one and then the other, before she realized that she was so exposed, closed her robe, and retied her bathrobe tie. Only, too late, she imagined thinking. With someone always watching her, someone would have already seen her tits and, perhaps, even her pussy. The familiar excitement of being so exposed made her want to masturbate.

The perfect opportunity to accidentally on purpose flash herself, she'd love to show her naked body to someone, anyone who was looking. Only, even though she thought about doing just that, loosening her tie, before standing, turning, and twisting to allow her robe to fall open, the thought to flash herself was nothing more than an urge, an urge that she now was able to control, thanks to her psychological therapy. Erasing the thoughts of flashing from her mind, now that she was successfully able to control her lewd behavior and lascivious impulses, she stood and moved to pick up the trash and garbage that the wind had neatly deposited in small piles along the bottom of the garage door.

A life altering blessing, she was glad she had therapy that allowed her to control her flashing urges. She was glad that her sexual disorder of flashing no longer controlled her life in the way it had for so many years. She was glad that she hadn't flashed anyone any part of her in a long time.

Just coming home from the senior center, the headlights from her elderly mother's car lit her up and Susan stood, just as her mother pressed the garage door button. As if playing an eerie song from the Devil's violin, the garage door slowly creaked and squeaked open. When Susan stood in concert with the door raising, as if the Devil's hand commanded her to flash, the hem of her robe tangled in the garage door flashing trim. Unable to free herself, her robe lifted in concert with the garage door opening. 

Susan's robe lifting with the garage door replayed what happened to Spanky's Mom, the ultimate stage mother, in the Little Rascals, so long ago. Back then, when Spanky's Mom rushed on stage to save Spanky some embarrassment, when he fell over in his heavy knight's armor costume, the stage hand, thinking he was funny, lifted the heavy stage curtain. The curtain hooked the hem of Mom's dress and, lifting up with her dress, exposed her silk slip, silk panties, and garters holding her silk stockings to the audience. Now, Susan's bathrobe moved higher in the same way.

As if happening in slow motion, she first thought there was someone standing behind her lifting her robe. In the way how her bathrobe lifted, she actually thought that someone was sexually molesting her from behind. Only, as if it were eerie music that announced the opening of a stage curtain before presenting a reluctant stripper onstage, there was no one there, but the mechanical sound of the garage door opening.

"Hey, what the fuck," she said turning to swat at her imaginary sexual molester.

Then, realizing it was the garage door lifting her robe, she panicked. Quickly struggling to set herself free, she couldn't. As if she was meant to flash, some supernatural force had worked against her therapy to expose herself without her approval and against her will.

Oh, the inhumanity of it all. Why her? Why now? Why not? Show them some skin, Susan, she heard a whisper from her own sub-conscious urging her to flash her naked body.

"Oh, my God."

As horrified, as she was excited, she knew someone would be seeing something of her this morning. With so little time to react, as if a contestant on some perverse Japanese game show, willing to tear the material, she turned and tugged at her robe to free herself, but to no avail. An unwilling victim, she couldn't believe the garage door was stripping her naked.

"No, fuck, no. This can't be happening to me."

Within an instant, with her shapely thighs already exposed and her robe climbing higher, pulling harder this time, she tugged again and again. 

"God give me the strength to free myself."

Then, when her round ass and her blonde, trimmed pussy were revealed for anyone looking to see, she pulled even harder, as hard as she could, but without success. 

"No! No! No!"

Unable to free herself, finally, with the garage door completely raised and her robe not only lifted but also opened wide, while bunched beneath her arms, her public display of total nudity was a sad, sick joke.

"Mom! Close the garage door! Mom!"

Unable to move freely, as if being constrained by her own bathrobe in some cruel flashing joke, and looking much like a scarecrow on a pole, her breasts were now exposed, too.

"Mom!"

Better than anything she had planned in one of her accidental, yet purposeful flashing scenarios, never could she have imagined using a garage door to accidentally flash her on purpose. In all the years she had flashed men, always making it appear accidental, with men walking away scratching their heads, while wondering if she had flashed them on purpose or by accident, never could she have designed such a perfect flashing accident. As if a deer caught in her mother's headlights, with her arms raised at shoulder level, while helplessly standing there so tightly tangled and so totally exposed, with her bathrobe covering only her arms, her shoulders, and her upper back, she was virtually naked. 

"Mom! Push the button! Mom! Close the garage door," she yelled at her mother through the car windshield, while struggling to pull her bathrobe free. "Mom!"

Unable to even move her arms down low enough to cover herself from anyone looking, and to hide her breasts with her forearms and her pussy with her hands, her modesty was at the mercy of the garage door. In all of her flashes, flashes that only lasted a few seconds, never had she been so exposed for such a long time. Never had she been unable to control her flashes, as she was now. Helpless to pull the plug on her flash, as she had done so many times before, she was a puppet on a string and commanded by the will of fate.

Not noticing him the first time she looked and yelled at her mother through the windshield, when she looked to her mother again, she saw her mother's on and off again boyfriend, her next door neighbor, 67-year-old Mr. Simms, the neighborhood pervert. Always staring at her, leering at her, as if undressing her with his eyes, he no longer had to imagine what she looked like naked. With her bathrobe bunched up behind her, he had a good look of her pussy and tits now. Willing to flash Mr. Simms her naked ass, instead of her pussy and tits, she tried turning the other way but, unable to move enough rotate, Mr. Richardson, her neighbor on the other side of her was standing there with his dog anyway. With gapping mouth open, both Mr. Simms and Mr. Richardson stared at her tits, her ass, and her pussy. Then, just as her mother finally pushed the button to close the garage door, the three trash men appeared to applaud and whistle their appreciation for the free striptease show.

Unlike all the other times she flashed her body to unsuspecting men in controlled flashes, unable to exert control over this flash, humiliated, she was totally embarrassed this time. A good thing to feel a normal reaction to being so exposed, when showing a part of her that someone was not supposed to see, the emotion she felt, despite the sexual urges to flash that she had previously, helped her to believe that she was cured from her sexual disorder of flashing. Gathering up her robe and wrapping the material around her, she ran in her townhouse with her face a bright red. Yet, once upstairs in her bedroom, making a slow burn, the familiar excitement from what had just happened and from being so exposed to five appreciative men, made her want to masturbate with the thoughts of all she showed and all that they saw.

Reliving the experience in her mind, a sexual nightmare that had turned into a sexual fantasy, she recalled her mother laughing and Mr. Simms gawking. When she tried turning away from Mr. Simms, she saw Mr. Richardson standing there staring at her naked body, as his dog peed all over his leg and shoe. Then, she remembered the three trash men, her age and younger showing their obvious delight with all that they had seen of her. Already so sexually aroused, she opened her nightstand drawer, reached for her vibrator, and opened her bathrobe, just as her mother knocked on her locked bedroom door.

"Susan, are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine, Mom. My bathrobe got caught up in the garage door, as I was picking up all the trash that Buster got into, when he knocked over our barrel," she said knowing her mother knew nothing about her sexual disorder, her need to flash her naked body to men, and the sexual excitement that she was feeling now.

"Mr. Simms wanted me to tell you that he didn't see anything. The gentleman that he is," she said, "he wanted me to tell you that he averted his eyes."

Averted his eyes, my ass, thought Susan. If he was staring any harder and any longer, his eyes would have fallen out of his head. If only she was Medusa, she would have turned him to stone for looking so long and so hard. She waited for her mother to go downstairs, before she reclined back to pleasure herself, while thinking of all the five men saw of her naked body. Her neighbors Mr. Simms and Mr. Richardson, along with the three trash men saw her naked ass, her C cup breasts, and her blonde, trimmed pussy. Already wet from the thoughts of being so exposed, as soon as she touched herself with her finger and rubbed her bean, before inserting her vibrator, as soon as she fingered, pulled, and twisted her nipples, the sexual excitement of what just happened consumed her, as if she never had therapy.

Having promised herself to call her psychiatrist, she left a message on her voice mail for her to return her call. She'd talk to her psychiatrist later, after she masturbated and, since she's already been so nakedly exposed, after she had one last trip to the mall to expose herself again. Justifying her reason to flash with her need to flash at the mall, after having so much psychological therapy and now that she's already flashed her naked body to five unsuspecting men, albeit accidentally, she told herself that she needed to see if there was any difference in her desire to flash men. Masturbating over all that she already showed men of her naked body this morning, she masturbated thinking of all the things that she could do to show men her body at the mall. Excited by just the thoughts of flashing her panty, her bra, her ass, her pussy, and her tits, she was on the verge of...

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! I can't believe this. I going to cum. Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

When a wave of warm heat consumed her body, she exploded her flashing lust in the best orgasm she's had in a long time. Not having an orgasm like that, since she stopped exposing herself, she wondered if her psychotherapy had interfered with her ability to pleasure herself. Now, that she was finally free of the guilt of flashing herself, maybe now that she was older, smarter, and wiser, she could flash without fear her psychological baggage would cause emotional repercussions of guilt and shame. Promising herself to be more mindful of who she flashes and when she flashes, the last thing she wanted was to be raped by some man who didn't know the rules of playing the game of exhibitionism and voyeurism.

With her body tingling from cumming so hard and for so long, after taking a few long minutes to rest in the afterglow of her masturbation session that culminated in a powerful orgasm, actually having fallen asleep, she got up showered and dressed. A few years, since she last flashed anyone, she was suddenly filled with flashing ideas and the anticipation of flashing excited her now as it had never excited her before. So excited in the shower, while thinking about flashing her body to unsuspecting men, she masturbated again, this time with the shower massager pulsating on high.

Wanting to look hot but not slutty, she pulled from the closet her old flashing outfit from a few years back, a short skirt, the shortest skirt she owned, and a low cut blouse that falls open wide with the slightest forward lean. She wore her oh so sheer, nearly invisible bikini panties, along with her matching and supportive bra. For anyone looking, when she was flashing, her ass crack and pubic hair were clearly visible through her panty and her areolas and nipples appeared as if she wasn't even wearing a bra. The perfect outfit for a stripper or for a flasher, with her lingerie screaming, look at me, she was free to show her nearly naked body without anyone suspecting that she was purposely flashing them. The life of an exhibitionist, as well as a voyeur, doesn't get any better than this.

When she backed her car out of the garage, she saw Mr. Simms peeking out his blinds and when she turned to the right, Mr. Richardson was there again with his dog. Neither one waved, they never wave; they just stare. If only they'd follow her to the mall, her ever present admiring audience, she'd show them all that they're hoping to see. Yet, after having already seen her naked, she'd think that was enough of her for them. No doubt, after the free show she gave them, she imagined them masturbating their lust for her in a tissue. In the excited state she was in, she'd suck their cocks, if only they made the first move. Yet, lookers and not doers, just as she was just an exhibitionist and not a whore, they were just voyeurs and not rapists.

Excited to flash and unable to wait, on the way to the mall, she pulled alongside truckers and slowed to match their speed. With her driver and passenger windows down, in one glance the truckers, could easily see her areolas and nipples through her see through bra and her cleavage down her blouse. In the way that she had hiked up her short skirt nearly to her waist and fingering herself, while they watched, they could clearly see her pussy through her sheer panty.


Exposing Oneself, a Sexual Disorder



She flashed a dozen truckers, before reaching the tollbooth. The man who collected tolls must have been monitoring the CB radio because, as she pulled in, he was already looking, staring, and ogling all that she was showing him. Taking her time to show him what she needed him to see, she asked him for directions to the mall, even though she knew how to get there. Never making eye contact, when he wasn't taking to her exposed tits, he was talking to her exposed pussy.

She parked her car in a spot where there was a man sitting in his truck. With her blonde hair, pretty face, and big tits, she knew the man was watching her. Even when she wasn't flashing, even when she wasn't showing her panty, her bra, her tits, her ass, and her pussy, men were always watching her. With her skirt up to her crotch and her transparent panty so exposed, she parked her car at the perfect angle for him to see her spread her legs, when she alighted from her vehicle.

Making her flash appear accidental, she pretended she didn't know he was there, when she reached down to buckle her shoe with her legs still splayed wide open. Knowing she was giving him a good long look of her sheer, panty clad pussy and her bra, nipples, and areolas, when she leaned down to fix her shoe, with him, no doubt, thinking that he was in the right place at the right time, no one would suspect someone who looked like her would flash someone who looked like him. He was the nineteenth man that she had flashed today.

Her first stop, of course, was her favorite place to flash, the shoe store, one that had a young, cute salesman helping her to fit her foot. She waited for the store to empty, so as to have the undivided attention of the shoe salesman, without having to endure the nasty looks, she'd, no doubt, receive from other woman, who wished they could be as brazenly provocative as she was, while wearing her short skirt and low cut blouse. So very easy to do, her favorite shoe store flash was to try on boots a size too small. With her foot raised high and with all the pulling, tugging, and struggling that the shoe store salesman did to fit her foot, before measuring her foot and getting the correct size, her skirt raised higher, as her legs parted wider. By the time he squished her foot in the too small boot, as if she was a patient having a gynecological exam, her foot was against his shoulder and her legs were stretched apart, as if she was doing a cheerleading split.

Then, when she put her foot on the floor and leaned down to feel where her toe was in the boot, the front of her blouse nearly fell to the floor. After getting a exciting good, long look of her panty clad pussy, the shoe salesman got another thrilling good, long look of her sheer bra clad areolas and nipples. Already having practiced her moves at home in her full length mirror, she didn't need a mirror in the store to see what the salesman could see of her. She just had to watch his eyes, along with the growing bulge in his pants. Just as she was excited to masturbate over all she was showing this poor man, she imagined that he couldn't wait to masturbate over all that he was seeing of her.

Having already flashed her naked body to her two neighbors and three trash men, her panties and bra to a dozen truckers, the toll booth attendant, the man sitting in his truck in the parking lot, and to the shoe salesman, she felt liberated from psychotherapy and group therapy. So long as she didn't feel guilty about flashing, so long as she flashed to an admiring audience of men and not children, what was wrong with flashing her body? She wasn't hurting anyone and all the men she flashed appreciated the free show of her sexy, sheer lingerie. If she was doing anything, she was doing public service work to all those men who were, no doubt, sexually frustrated and denied seeing the live nearly naked, lingerie clad body of a beautiful woman. The thoughts of them masturbating over all of what they've seen of her today, while thinking of having sex with her, made her happy that she was a sexual, cock teasing woman. With some of the men she flashed good looking, manly types, she'd suck their cocks, if she could, while they whispered in her ear, how much they enjoyed her flashing show.

Her next flashing episode was to happen at the one the rare women's clothing stores in the mall that still had curtains on their dressing rooms. With those curtains never closing all the way, accidental on purpose flashing was easy to do and she understood why stores switched to the privacy of doors for the modesty of their customers. Yet, there were many women just like her, exhibitionist women, who didn't mind giving admiring men a free show.

Looking up at the ceiling of a dressing room that had no roof, she wondered how much of a free show she'd be giving store security, too. She wondered if they copied the video of her to play over in the privacy of their home, while masturbating. She wondered how many men had photographed and had taken videos of her to post on the Internet. A star in her own one woman flashing show, she suddenly felt famous.

She collected a skirt, a blouse, and a bikini and quickly headed for the dressing room. Already having an audience in place, there was a boyfriend standing outside of one dressing room waiting for his girlfriend and a husband standing outside of the other dressing room waiting for his wife, no doubt. Closing the curtain in the middle, while leaving a three inch space on each side, one peep opening for the boyfriend and the other peep opening for the husband, as soon as she entered the dressing room in between the girlfriend and wife, she sensed both men gravitating to each side her dressing room curtain. Not having much time before the girlfriend and/or the wife emerged from their dressing rooms, she quickly began strip down to only her transparent bikini panty.

With each piece of clothing removed, as if a stripper paid to strip for a private party, her excitement grew with the feel of the heat from the men's stare. Prolonging her excitement and maintaining their attention by slowing her strip, while hoping that their women didn't emerge from the dressing rooms prematurely and before she could show their men her nearly naked body. First she unzipped and unbuttoned her skirt, allowing it to fall to the dressing room floor. Then, turning, bending, twisting, and stretching to pick up and neatly fold her skirt, she flashed them her ass crack, pussy lips, and pubic hair through her transparent panty. When, she removed her blouse to show them her nipples and areolas through her barely there bra, knowing they could see all she was showing and knowing they were staring, on the pretense that she didn't know they were there, she turned to face them without looking at them. Finally facing them with her head turned the other way to look at herself in the mirror, she reached around her back, unhooked her bra, and released her breasts.

No doubt imagined, she distinctly heard an audible gasp of pleasure from the two men, upon them seeing her naked C cup breasts. But for her neighbors and trash man today at the garage door opening, the truckers on the highway, the toll booth attendant, the man in the pickup truck, and the shoe store salesman, it had been a long time since she had flashed anyone and she was so very excited to have flashed these two men her naked breasts. As soon as she heard their girlfriend and wife emerge from the dressing room, show over, she quickly dressed and left the store. So far so good, as if picking off ducks at a carnival side show, with the number of men flashed up to twenty-two and growing, possibly twenty-four or twenty-five, when imagining what store security could see of her, she continually added unsuspecting men to her list of men that she had flashed.

Time to climb the escalator, she sat on a bench close to the escalator, while waiting for her perfect choice of men to go up behind her. Meanwhile, sitting there with her knees tightly closed, she knew she was giving every man who past by her a free show of her sheer panty. Because her skirt was so short, even with her knees modestly closed, the triangular opening above her thigh showed any man looking what they wanted to see. A couple of men stood across from where she sat, while pretending they were looking at something else, other than her sheer, panty clad pussy. Moreover, with just the little bit of leaning that she did, while rifling through her purse on the pretense that she was looking for something, gave them all a great down blouse view of her sheer, bra glad breasts and abundant cleavage. No doubt, just sitting there for a few minutes, she must have accidentally on purposed flashed more than 100 unsuspecting men and more than 100 unsuspecting women her panties and bra.

When she cut in front of the men to go ahead of them up the escalator, from the direction of their eyes, she knew they noticed her short skirt and she knew that, if they lagged a couple of steps behind her, which they did, they'd be able to see her sheer panty clad ass beneath her short skirt. Only, they didn't know that she wanted them to see more of her. They didn't know that she was about to flash them her ass crack and pussy lips through her nearly transparent panty. They didn't know that, by her taking a few steps up, once she was higher up the escalator, she'd turn to look back, before bending at the waist to give them a front, side, and back view of her transparent panty, while pretending to fix her shoe.

Good God almighty, she was a one in a million sight to behold for horny eyes. She didn't have to imagine all that they could see of her, she knew, as she had practiced that move in front of her full length mirror at home, while standing, turning, twisting, and bending at the waist on a step stool. She knew by turning and twisting, before bending that not only could they see her ass but also her pussy, too. She added three more men to the total of men, who saw what they all had hoped to see of her and what she willingly wanted to show them. Looking for more men to flash, figuring this may be her last time flashing, before volunteering for more psychological therapy that would surely end her urge to flash, she looked for more men.

Store after store, she flashed men everywhere she went. From trying out a massage chair and vibrating lounger that hiked her short skirt to her crotch, to trying out a mattress that flashed her panty to the salesman, when she climbed on and climbed off, to using an exercise bike that allowed her to flash an up skirt and a down blouse at the same time, she was in a flashing frenzy. Adding another six men to the growing total of men she flashed, the number of men she flashed grew to 131.

Jewelry stores were favorite places to flash, too and, in quick succession, she hit three of them at the mall. With her blonde hair and big tits, as soon as she walked in the store, there was always a man eager to help her. Leaning over the counter, while peering down and pretending to look at jewelry through the glass, she gave the salesman a good down blouse view of her tits. She didn't have to look up to know that he was staring down her top. Whenever she went to buy a piece of jewelry, because of the free show she gave the salesman, she always received the discounted price. Add another three men to her total of men flashed for today, bringing her total to nearly 134 men flashed in just a couple of hours, when counting store security.

Taking a break from shopping or, more appropriately, from flashing, she hit the food court for some lunch. She sat at a table, while deep in thought, as if she was a longshoreman with her legs spread wide looking out to sea. As if there was a spotlight over her head, staring at her from across the food court and able to clearly see from her feet to her waist beneath the table, she didn't have to look up from her reading material to know that men were gawking at her from across the big, busy room. Every table across from her and facing her was suddenly filled with horny men staring over at her exposed panties. Just by flashing them her panty and leaning forward to read her book, while giving them all down blouse views, she was drawing a crowd. Some man walked past for a closer look, while most men were satisfied to voyeur her from a distance. Add another three dozen men to her total flashed bringing her total flashed to 170 men.

Finally exhausted, she left the mall and drove home with the sexually excited thoughts of all the men she flashed, still fresh in her mind. Wanting, needing, and eager to masturbate over all that she showed and all that the men saw, she quickly stripped out of her clothes and put on her bathrobe. Rubbing against and exciting her nipples with her every movement, imagining a man's fingers fingering her nipples, the soft material of her robe felt good against her naked breasts and she couldn't wait to make herself comfortable on her bed. She couldn't wait to touch herself, before fingering herself. She couldn't wait to plunge her dildo deep inside of her pussy in the way she wished every man she flashed today were here now to fuck her and make her suck them. Rubbing her pussy with her finger, she imagined a 170 men gangbanging her and having their sexy way with her.

"Ding Dong!

"Fuck, just as I was getting comfortable, there's someone at the door. Isn't that always the case?"

Then, she thought, never finished flashing, maybe it was someone else she could flash. Purposely, as if just about to take a shower being her quick thinking excuse, she ran downstairs with her bathrobe wide open and her tits and pussy totally exposed.

"Ding Dong!"

As if a signal for the sexual contest to begin, the doorbell echoed the excitement of whoever was standing outside her front door. As if it were her signal to flash, the doorbell echoed her excitement to show whoever was there all that they, no doubt, wanted to see. Having flashed whoever came to her front door, she was ready to flash whoever was there now.

"Who is it?"

"It's your next door neighbors, Mr. Simms and Mr. Richardson."

What the Hell did they want, she wondered? In a moment of flashing adrenaline, could she dare flash them again, especially after they've already seen her naked at the garage door opening? With her hand tucked cavalierly in her bathrobe pocket, while casually opening her robe more, could she dare open the front door with her bathrobe open enough to expose her breasts and pussy to their horny eyes? Horny enough to do just that, opened the door and did just that.

As soon as she opened her front door, Mr. Simms and Mr. Richardson came rushing in her house with the three trash men and hordes of men behind them. There were the 12 truckers she flashed on the highway, the tollbooth taker, the guy with the pickup truck in the parking lot, the shoe salesman, the boyfriend and husband from the store with the curtains in the dressing room, the 100 men who stared at her when she was sitting on the bench, the three men behind her on the escalator, the men from the jewelry, exercise, lounge chair, and mattress stores, along with all those men from the food court. With 170 men in her house, they stripped off her bathrobe and carried her upstairs, as if she were their Princess prize and they were the victorious soldiers that stormed her castle.

A full sexual assault of men, never has she felt so many hands touching, feeling, squeezing, and groping her naked body. With hands groping her tits, fingering her nipples, squeezing her ass, and fingering her pussy, her fright turned from fear to pleasure. With one man putting a hand to the back of her blonde head and forcing her to suck his cock, another man fucked her. As soon as they exploded their cum in her mouth and/or her pussy, they switched with another man taking his turn. For six long hours, as if they were part of a non-stop, tag team wrestling match they fucked her, while forcing her to suck them. 

Overwhelmed by their sexual lust for her, never has she had such a steady diet of cum. There was cum everywhere, on her pillows, on her mattress, on the wall and the carpet, and on her person. A night to remember, even with being a head cheerleader, no pun intended, and being gangbanged by the whole team and a few fans, after her team won the championship and she was voted the homecoming queen, never has she had so much cum in her mouth, in her hair, on her eyes, nose, cheek, chin, and chest. Literally covered in cum, she was so happy and sexually satisfied, albeit a bit sore. A fitting end to her flashing, with her being the flashing legend of the mall, now she could return to her therapy and finally put flashing behind her. 

"Ring. Ring." As if hearing a bell, after the boxer had already been knocked out, she heard it again. "Ring. Ring." Emerging from the distance and coming closer, the ringing she heard wouldn't stop, until she answered it. "Ring. Ring."

After having fucked and sucked 170 men, as if in a drug induced daze of sexual Heaven, she reached for the phone.

"Hello? Oh, hi Doctor Jones. Flashing? No, I was just calling to let you know that even though I've had urges to flash, even though I accidentally flashed my neighbors and my trash men, when my bathrobe got caught in the bottom of the garage door and lifted my bathrobe over my head to expose my naked body to them, I haven't purposely flashed anyone. Actually, instead of acting on my impulses, instead of flashing, I went to bed. Only, I've been having sexual dreams of flashing, dreams that were so real that I actually thought that I did flash men again. I dreamt that I went to the mall and flashed 170 men, Doctor Jones. Then, I dreamt that the men followed me home and gangbanged me. I dreamt I was gangbanged by 170 men, doctor, all the men that I dreamt that I had flashed. Better that I dream about it than to actually do it. Right, doctor? Except for the vivid dreams, dreams that were so real and so much better than actually flashing, if I may add, I think that I'm cured. Oh, you want me to come in for therapy? When? You have a cancellation now? Sure. Okay. I can be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you for returning my call, Doctor."

Susan quickly got dressed but, when she opened her front door, an excited mob of men, 170 men, filled her townhouse and carried her upstairs. What she thought was a dream was real. She had gone to the mall and she had flashed men. Now, what she thought was her dream, was her reality and they gangbanged her.

THE END