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Flasher

By: Ed0613



She was flashing me!

I didn't realize it at first. I just thought I was in a fortunate position, sitting at the table of the corner sidewalk cafe. There were not many other people there at this time in the afternoon so I had my choice of seats. She had something in front of her that looked like an ice tea or Coca-Cola and was reading a book. I had just gotten off work and was sitting two tables away and having coffee with an unobstructed view of her legs under her table. She absent-mindedly opened them slightly causing her miniskirt to ride up a bit. The light was perfect so there was no question at all that she wasn't wearing panties and I could see her clean shaven pussy, almost glistening in the afternoon sunshine. It was beautiful, or at least as beautiful as a pussy can be.

I thought she was completely oblivious to my stares until I had to adjust the swelling that such a stunning sight caused in my pants. I adjusted, and readjusted. On the 3rd adjustment, she looked first at my hand, then into my eyes and smiled. I think I was a little embarrassed until she opened her legs wider and grinned at me. There was almost an explosion in my trousers when she raised her head ever so slightly and licked her lips. She laughed out loud when I spilled the coffee in my lap.

I jumped up from the table and tried to sop up to mess with the very small napkin that came with the beverage. It was no use, the front of my khakis were saturated with coffee. Fortunately I had been staring at her for so long it was barely warm. 

She came over to me with a larger napkin and said, "If I caused that I apologize. Here, let me help." 

She knelt down in front of me and dabbed at the stain with her napkin. Needless to say, she couldn't help but feel the swelling that had caused this incident in the first place. "OOH, if I caused that too I guess I should apologize."

"It's not your fault, I was ogling you and enjoying the scenery."

"I know, I saw you and thought I would give you a thrill. I think I am just an exhibitionist because I love for men to look at me."

"Well, from what I saw, you are worth looking at."

During this verbal exchange, she had gotten to her feet but her hand was still on my crotch and I did nothing to remove it. She gave me a playful squeeze and said, "I'll tell you what, I live here, just upstairs over the cafe. Why do you come up to my apartment, we can throw your chinos in the washer and have you looking presentable and an hour or so. I am sure we can find some way to pass the time while we wait."

I started to protest a little, but I was afraid she might change her mind so I shut up and followed her up the little staircase alongside the cafe.

I was very surprised; the apartment was well decorated and occupied the entire second floor. It was very large, light and airy with windows on all four sides. "This used to be the café owners apartment until he built a house in the suburbs," She explained. "Come back into the kitchen, we have a washer and dryer there. Take off your pants and I'll get that stain out for you."

She attacked my belt and was undoing it when she said, "By the way, my name is Barbara. I live here with my roommate Joan. Don’t worry about her, she is away for the afternoon." She laughed a little when she said; "I guess I should know your name since you are going to get naked in my apartment."

I was busy trying to get my keys and wallet out of my pockets. "My name is Ed and I live in the apartment complex around the corner. I’m the morning desk clerk in the hotel down the street. I just got off work."

She dropped my trousers and had me step out of them. For some reason I felt quite foolish standing there in my shoes and socks, shirt and tie and my boxer shorts. Fortunately, my erection had subsided so it wasn't making a big bulge in my shorts but I still felt the need to cover myself with my hands. She didn't seem to notice as she put the discolored garment into the washing machine. "It will only take a few minutes to wash the stain out and then we will put it in the dryer. In the meantime, would you like another cup of coffee?"

"Not really, I was just killing time and then I saw you. The coffee was just so I could sit down across from you."

She came to me and put her arms around my neck, looked straight into my eyes and said, "Well, now what will we do while we wait for your pants to come out of the dryer?"

My hands around her back discovered she was not wearing a bra under the silken material of her blouse. She was grinding her hips into me, causing a reoccurrence of the swelling. She smiled, and very seductively said, “My, you are a big boy, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t had any complaints,” I said as I undid the fastener at the top of her blouse and ran the zipper down.

I kissed her and with my tongue answered her question as to what we could do while we waited. I did things to her mouth that I intended to do to her pussy and she knew it. When we broke, she was breathless. “Slip out of the rest of your things and come into the bedroom.”

By the time I got there, she was nude and with her back to me was turning down the bedcovers. She eased into the bed and said, “Now, come over here and lets do some more of that thing you were doing with your tongue.”

With most of my body on top of her and my erection poking her in her hip, I kissed her again. This time it was her mouth that told me what her pussy was going to do to my cock and it was me that broke the contact. “God, it was just like I was fucking your mouth with my tongue.”

She chuckled a little bit before she said, "Well, I'll tell you what, you can fuck my mouth with your cock if you'll fuck my pussy with your tongue."

That sounded like a good exchange to me so I slowly worked my way down to her neck and then her chest. When I got to her breasts, I marveled at the size and color of the areola and nipples. Although her breasts were probably only average in size, they were creamy white and perfectly shaped. The ring around the nipple took up half the area and the beautiful pink nipple itself stood up almost an inch. When my mouth closed around it she gasped and pulled my head so tight into her chest I had trouble breathing. I played there for some few minutes, rolling this delightful morsel around in my mouth, sucking and nibbling on it. 

In the meantime, my right hand had not been idle. I slowly worked it down until I contacted the clean-shaven area that I had seen downstairs. There was no denying she was aroused. There was no resistance at all to my finger when I slowly slid it between the lips of her weeping pussy, but there was another gasp from her and she started pushing my head to follow the path my hand had taken.

She didn't have to push too hard but I did kiss my way down. By the time I got to my destination she was wiggling so much I had trouble keeping my finger in her. I teased her by kissing the inside of first one thigh and then the other, running my tongue from one side to the other, just brushing it against the lips of her pussy. When I finally withdrew my finger and inserted my tongue she was flopping around like a fish out of water. 

I was pleasantly surprised to find that her clitoris was very prominent and swollen. It was at least a half-inch long and was standing up like a tiny little penis. I was able to capture it between my tongue and upper lip and she responded by clamping her thighs tightly around my head. "Oh my God, what are you doing to me? Oh, don't stop!" I didn't stop but I was able to alternate between sucking her little woman cock in my mouth and plunging my tongue in and out of her pussy. Finally, after a few minutes, I took her clitoris in my mouth and sucked on it like someone might give a man a blowjob.

I think she had an orgasm right there. Her entire body went rigid and she picked her ass up at least four or five inches off of the bed, still holding my head in the vice grip of her thighs. There was a low moaning wail coming from deep within her chest, her head was twisting back and forth and she was beating the mattress with her arms. Slowly, she wilted. My captured head was released, her ass sank back to the bed, her legs opened wide and she was mouthing some sort of unintelligible gibberish.

I tried to move her around but she was limp as a wet rag. I finally gave up and figured if I was going to get anything at all I would have to fuck her in the missionary position. When I slid up and stuck my cock in her pussy, she roused a little. "Oh my God, I never had anything that good. Where did you ever learn to do that? It feels so good to have your cock inside of me now but I don't think I can cum again. I must have had at least three or four orgasms. I want you to cum inside of me but not too soon."

Her pussy was tight and wet but the conversation was distracting. I closed my ears as well as my eyes and was pumping away, trying to call my own orgasm up from the depths of my loins. I could feel it coming, crawling out of my testicles, crouching, ready to spew itself into the depths of her cunt. I was so close that had almost had a heart attack when a cool hand grabbed my testicles from behind and a syrupy sweet southern voice said, "You all look like your havin a good time. Kin I get some of that?"


It was too late for me to stop. With one last mighty shove I emptied my entire load of cum into Barbara’s slippery snatch. Each movement brought a new spurt until I finally collapsed with my full weight on top of her.

"If’n you all want, I can come back later but I sure would like to do some of that with you."

Barbara looked over my shoulder and gasped, "Ed, this is my roommate, Joan. Joan, this is Ed. He is by far the best male pussy eater I never met, maybe even as good as you. I want you to try him in a little while but first, I still owe him a blowjob."

I still hadn't seen Joan, she was just a voice from somewhere in the room behind me. "Well, I ain’t sure I like that, being replaced by a man!" If she hadn't chuckled a little I would have thought she was angry. Her hand again found my testicles from behind and gave them a playful squeeze. "Well, at least it looks like he has a nice big cock, did he give you a good fuck?"

They were discussing me like I was a side of beef or the hired hand that had just plowed a field for them. "Oh yes, he fucked me for at least 10 or 15 minutes. I think the only reason he came when he did was because you grabbed his balls."

I rolled off of Barbara and tried to get a look at Joan but Barbara wasn't finished. "Look, even though he had a hell of a climax and shot a monster gob of cum into me his dick is still hard."

Then came the big surprise. Joan was black. Not really black but a beautiful golden color, almost like burnished copper. She was tall and slender with graceful hands, short, soft curly black hair and almond colored eyes. She sat on the bed closest to me, her hands caressing my slimy dick, still wet with Barbara's pussy juice. "You sure have a nice cock for a white boy. Most of you guys are kinda puny and don't know how to fuck. I think I let you try me and see if you are any good."

She stood up, kicked off her shoes, dropped her skirt and panties and pulled her blouse off over her head. It didn't take 15 seconds for her to become completely nude. I was enthralled by this bronze goddess. Barbara said, "Wait just a minute, I want him to eat your pussy first so you can see how good he is at that."

Joan smiled and rubbed her snatch. "I'm all for that. I don't know any men that are very good at eating pussy and I do like having it done to me. For some reason, not many black men do it either, but I don't care, Barbara is the best I know. You just lay back and let me sit on your face and I'll be the judge as to how good you are."

So, I lay back and she assumed the position, a knee either side of my head, hands on the headboard and smiling as she looked down into my eyes and slowly lowered her clean-shaven pussy onto my waiting mouth. I tried to do the same thing to her I had done to Barbara but her clitoris was not as pronounced. After minutes of searching with my tongue I was finally able to capture it between my lips. By this time, she was wiggling so hard I had trouble holding onto it. I finally gave up and stuck my tongue as deep into her pussy as I could.

I had to put my hands on her hips to make her stay in place. In order to hold on to her better, I formed a huge "O" with my lips and sucked everything near in and around her cunt into my mouth. Continuing this vacuum hold on her I was able to wiggle my tongue over every single piece and part of her pussy. I heard her moaning and looked up to see that she had her head bowed between her shoulders and her eyes were closed. My tongue continued its dance with the various pieces of her snatch as I found them.


I felt a weight on the bed and then the unmistakable feeling of a warm, wet vagina descending on my cock. I saw the hands snake around Joan torso from behind to cup her breasts. The unseen cunt now had complete control of my dick, slowly sliding up and down.

The delicacy of Joan’s delicious pussy was now a hindrance. I didn't want to experience anything other than the delightful thing that was occurring on my penis but I could tell Joan was teetering on the verge of a climax. I renewed my efforts, pushing the limits of my tongue into her.

Almost exactly as Barbara had done, I felt every muscle in her body tense and then go limp. She was still holding onto the headboard with both hands and with a couple of grunts, she started sliding back and forth on my face, making my nose fuck her as well as my mouth. Delicious liquid began to ooze out of her; so luscious that I almost forgot what was happening to me down below. I think she had at least two more orgasms before she finally gave up and fell off to one side.

I now had an unobstructed view of Barbara, her hands on my chest and sliding up and down on my cock. Each upward motion was accompanied by a soft "ooh" and on the down stroke, another soft "aah." Because of Joan's intervention, my first orgasm had been less than ideal but I was on the verge of making up for that now. Barbara’s motion was began to increase in tempo, almost in keeping with the climax I could feel building inside of me. I was now thrusting myself into her so hard that my ass was coming up off the bed.

Finally, it happened! I could feel the exotic delight of my semen squirting out of the end of my dick, spurt after spurt. I know they say it is better if you can cum with your partner but sometimes, when you are climaxing, there is just no one else in the world but you. Each gush of cum was heavenly. Each movement caused a new wave of ecstasy to course through my body. 

The Kingdom of rapture soon claimed me, carrying me off on magic carpet of white breasts, each with a large pink areola and a proud, erect nipple. Like a royal carriage, it was pulled with a team of hard, wet cocks and the whole thing was driven by a beautiful, tall black princess with a whip in her hands. 

When I awoke, it was dark outside and I was alone. My clean clothes were on a chair beside the bed and there were two separate notes pinned to them. One, with a plastic flower attached said, “Awarded to the best white pussy eater I ever met. I hope you cum back to see us again soon and let me show you how good I am. Licks, Joan”

The other, on a plain sheet of white paper simply said, “I O U, one blow job. Barbara. P.S. You can collect here tomorrow. Sorry but we had to go to work, Love.”

I’ll have to check my schedule and see if I can make it tomorrow. I probably can.

- 30 -

Copyright © 10-22-2002 by E. J. Sheeran. All rights reserved. This work, in part, or whole, is not to be distributed, reproduced, transmitted or posted, in any manner, without the express written permission of the author.

For comments on this story contact me. 

Flasher!



I almost don't know where to begin, so I guess I will just start with Sharon and what she is like.

Sharon is small, nearly all of the women in my life have been. No idea why, I just lean that way, maybe part of my tendency towards dominance. I do know that I run the show most of the time, my woman needs to do what I say within reason. I am not harsh, I am just firm, I make the decisions that matter in my life.

Sharon was a virgin when we met, stayed that way through several dates, resisting all of my advances past a certain point. That's not to say I didn't try every single trick there is that a less than experienced young male can come up with.

She figured out quickly that letting me cop a few feels and then reaching into my pants and relieving the tension worked great to reduce the pressures I placed trying for access to her sacred loins.

Then we were engaged, one day we were at our new home we bought beforehand to prepare for life together. She allowed me way more liberty than ever before, and I more or less fumbled the situation. We both ended up bloody and confused, it was a struggle for her, painful when her hymen broke.

Seems her 93 pounds was a bit too small for my 190, but time heals all wounds they say, we got past that.

Sharon got shortchanged in height, she claimed 4' 10" but I knew she was barely 4'9". Think of a waist my fingers and thumbs easily circled and touched, her hips weren't much larger. What she lacked there was made up for up top, though. I swear about a quarter of her body weight was breasts.

Damn fine ones, too. Not a hint of sag or droop, they looked better than any surgeon can create. 

I read all the stories stating sizes, big double "D's" and all of that. Hell, I never even thought to measure them, I just played with them, fun stuff. I have heard folks say that more than a mouthful is a waste, but I didn't waste any of it. 

Most women have one side slightly larger, or some tiny flaw. Sharon didn't have any at all, anywhere on her body. Add in a black hair covered pussy that stuck right out of her ALL the time, and got half again bigger when she got all fussed up, and you see the picture.

Yea, dark hair, dark eyes, my little china doll. I used to call her that,teasing, it always pissed her off. Sensitive about her size, I guess.

Sex between us was a bit like trying to stick a Zuchinni into a garden hose, damn it was always a struggle to even get inside. It hurt her, too, I knew that so we tried vaseline and all sorts of lubes and I tried to be slow and gentle. Sex between us always took a long time. She would makes moans and sounds but nothing amazing, hell, I thought she loved it.

Then one day I was screwing around, started talking to her. Just silly stuff about her laying there on the beach naked with the surf pounding between her legs. It progressed to me saying she was naked and and helpless, a group of guys were watching. Her legs were spread, they could see her and they were all getting hard.

That seemed to set something off, all of a sudden she flooded like I had never seen before, opened up inside and it was easy for me. She screamed and screeched, ripped the shit out of my back, she went on and on for what seemed like half a goddamned hour! She was kicking her legs in the air and yelling, crazy as hell.

I was having one hell of a time reaching my own climax, too. It ain't easy when you have fingernails dug into your back. Dang, I bled for three days after that. Hurt like hell.

I filed her fucking nails down myself that week, told her if she did it again, I would make her wear gloves. 

I tried some of that again with the same result, but she acted a little mellower since I think she was expecting it. I tried new scenarios, all of them seemed to work, the new ones without fail got her doing that crazy jumping around and digging at me again, mercifully with trimmed nails.

Damn, all of a sudden sex with Sharon was a kick in the ass, and I have to say my own climaxes got stronger too. We were having fun, learning about each other.

Lots of fantasies, I guess everybody does that. Not everybody shares them. Personally, I think they should. Fun as all get out.

One day were in my old truck, I had to stop for gas. Good old days, they washed windows and everything. I got a crazy idea, reached over and hiked her skirt. I knew damn good and well she wore no panties, she didn't own any. Something about her mom thought they caused "diseases", her mom didn't own any either which I had noticed a couple of times.

The attendent was an old guy, maybe 50. Well, hell, old to us, were were 21 and 20 at the time. Sharon reached out and jerked her skirt back down, I reached over and jerked it even higher. Knowing me, she gave up, pursed her lips and just sat there, her skirt almost all the way to her crotch.

The attendent started washing the window, my side first, then hers. I hit him halfway through that he could see "almost" all the way up Sharon's skirt. Most probably he spotted the chance for a peek right off, I have never been sure of that. But he was interested, and made it obvious. I sat there with a big grin, I was mostly just teasing Sharon at first. Then realized I was getting a boner at the idea, too.

Well, the old guy knew he might get to see some pussy, next thing I knew my driver's side door was yanked open, he was vaccuming the carpets on my side. Did a sloppy job, too.

Then he went around to Sharon's side, and reached in, finding the usual rocks and dead grass. I could see he kept twisting his head to glance at Sharon's bare legs. Then he reached right down under the seat, leaning at the same time.

Sharon had her legs together, she twisted first towards me then away as the guy poked under the seat. She looked at me, I saw the flush in her face.

"Spread your legs and let the man do his job, honey!" I said.

That got me an almost painful look, but she opened her legs a a little.

"Hey, we ain't got all day Babe!" I told her.

She looked at me again, then spread her right leg over and out the open passenger door! She gave me a look of almost defiance, like "This is what you want, this is what you get!" The poor guy just came to a stop, he was face to face with Sharon's spread pussy, less than a couple feet away, with no idea at all what to say or do.

From my vantage point I knew all I had to do was lean forwards and I could see her pubic hair, no way could the poor guy be missing anything unless he was blind as a fucking bat! He took a long time poking around with that hose. But finally, he could stall no longer, we paid for the fuel and left. He still did a shitty job with the vacuum though. I swear, Sharon climaxed right on the spot. Her juices soaked through her skirt too, fucked up my truck's seat.

Once home, Sharon and I didn't make it to the bedroom, we jumped each other right there on the living room floor and she was hot as a pistol. I didn't even need to talk to her, create fantasies, she was already lost in them.

Fucked my back up again, too.

We progressed after that to Sharon baring her beaver in a couple of restaurants. There was one incident where we got out of the truck and went right inside the office with two guys at a gas station. Sharon bared it all, even going so far as to unbutton her top and show her breasts. But that was a little blatant, I liked the "accidents" a lot more.

We even went to a few swinger's club meetings, but the guys hit on her and were pushy even though the ads for the parties said this wasn't allowed. She did dance with me at their parties with a see though top on, then later some guy came over and blatantly copped a feel, that wasn't allowed either. Supposed to ask permission. I growled at him, he made some smart comment, I ended up popping him one.

There was quite a scuffle, I ended up with a bloody nose and a lump on my head, he ended up with a broken tooth and half his ear bit off and some fine looking scratches down his face that Sharon had left on him when he had me down on my back. We never were sure which one of us got the ear.

We dropped out of that club. Well, they say we were asked, we say we dropped out.

I was reading a men's magazine one day a year or so later, there was a story about some guy who watched his wife get screwed. The idea got me hot, but at the same time it was MY wife, I didn't want anybody else in there but me. Looking was one thing, thinking about it was something else, actually fucking her was another entirely.

Damned idea would not leave my head, I must have read that story 30 times. I even tried to control it, that wasn't working.

Now I suppose some would say I am a wimp, fact is, I am not. The idea of doing swaps with other couples doesn't do anything for me, either. Even the idea of MY wife, MY personal lady getting touched by some other guy just wasn't in the cards for me, I thought.

But she got turned on beyond belief from me suggesting erotic situations, especially flashing. I would try to say it didn't affect me, but the fact is it did. Sharon and I had sessions of sex that I can't describe, those damned fantasies were in there and now would not go away.

I began to wonder how she would react with someone else. Now that I got the idea into my head, I knew damn good and well I was screwing things up but my mind would not allow me to stop.

During lovemaking, I began to describe to Sharon scenes of other men. I even went so far as to change what I did, I even changed my strokes while inside her. I read somewhere of techniques used by Oriental men, I tried those. The changes had the same results with Sharon, she without fail would go nuts.

Our life together was getting more prosperous as my business grew, by the time I was in my 30's we had a new large home and a pool, and grounds that required a caretaker. We had tried for children and it didn't happen, testing showed that Sharon never would. One of those things.

Our life was good, but still, in the background was that need. Call it something else if you will, but it was a need to me. I had a wife that loved me and I had long since ran out of scenarios that would turn her on in the wild way they did at first. The days of huge orgasms had faded to a jaded life of fine sex but normal sex, no real heat to it.

There was one trip we made to Casino, the place had two floors. Sharon had on one of her criss-cross type tops that let her titties peek out the side at anybody who had the right angle. She was very good at getting into the right angle, and she was having fun, knowing it got me all fussed up.

We were on our way up the escalator when I heard a small gasp behind us. I looked around to see a couple below us. The lady had a shocked expression on her face, the guy was staring up the back of Sharon's very short skirt with a huge grin. I realized she was probably sans panties, so when we got to the top, I pulled her aside and reached under there to see.

She not only had no panties on, but she had trimmed her pubes to make herself as visible as possible. Anyone on the escalator below her had a clear view of her snatch. Sharon knew it and liked it, and she knew I liked it to.

We went up and down the escalator a lot that day, at one point we had several guys following us around. Then I noticed that 2 guys had posted themselves at a table just off to the side where folks sat to eat. They got to watch three trips, the ones going up were pretty good, the ones coming down had to be spectacular! Sharon would turn her body, letting one leg spread out a little to improve their view.

We ended up back in our room going at it again, it was almost like the old days.

Still, once back to our usual life, my vocal suggestions to her just didn't do the job, she had heard most of them. Her response was fine, but still...the magic. I wanted the magic. I know now that we all get just a few shots at that, the rest is comfortable and normal. I did not want comfortable and normal.

Sharon had joined a health group, they worked out weekly. I never went, my body was 190# at 22, and it was still 190# at 32. No reason to go.

One day I was at home when she left for her workout, normally I was at one of my several warehouses. Sharon had on a thin leotard, it fit like a second skin and the color quite simply made her look naked. The soft crotch showed clearly her black mass of pubic hair. I looked at her, planning to go out like that. I noticed that all of a sudden I had a boner like I hadn't had in years.

Sharon caught the look on my face, I think she had missed that for quite some time. She didn't make it to her class that day, we rolled around on the carpet like a couple of kids.

That was the day I decided to accept her request and join her weekly classes. Sharon was tickled pink at the idea, she mentioned something about me "getting a bit soft"...There was nothing "soft" about me at all, I was still 190# and I lifted weights, did pushups, all the usual.

But down at the gym they started these exercise routines, they were easy at first. Then they got tougher and tougher, I wasn't about to let a bunch of women and a half dozen over-muscled snot-nosed kids outdo me.

They did.

I ended up gasping for breath as the rest of them went on and on like the damn energizer Bunny. That pissed me off but told me something, so I began to go as regular as I could.

It wasn't long before I could keep up with the class. A big benefit was the eye candy, the gals all wore those thin leotards like Sharon had. I really liked it when they got a good sweat up, some of the things would go almost see through. I never saw so many titties in my life in one place.

There were just a half dozen guys around most of the time. I think if men knew what some of these classes were like, there would be a lot more men in them, for sure. Talk about eye voyeur's paradise!

There was one older gal, her name was Clara. her outfits were the kind that came up tight in the crotch and bare legs. She was skinny with muscles on her muscles, too. When she got sweat soaked her suit seemed to conform to her crotch, she obviously shaved the thing completely because I could often make out the shape of her nubbin.

Clara delighted in teasing the men, but most of them actually paid little attention. Probably homos, who knows? Then there was me, I paid attention. Clara was always wanting me to spot her on the weights, sometimes she would be laid back on the bench with her feet on the floor on each side.

I really liked it when she was doing leg presses one at a time, her pussy would slide back and forth under her tight outfit, a few times a lip would pop out. Once I even caught a glimpse of her clit as the cloth moved, it was pink and wet looking. Not a single hair that I could see on that thing. I had to turn away to hide my bulge, I had on a tight set of shorts too.

Sharon's outfits were pretty much the same, too. Except hers had full legs to the knees most of the time, and while they were light and thin, they covered her.

Then one day she mentioned she needed a new outfit to work out in. Hers had popped a seam, she had sewed it once but it popped out again. She asked me to go with her to help her pick one out. 

Yea, sure. Just what I wanted to do, wander around stores and look at women's clothes. I complained that the NASCAR race was on, and even promised to weed the garden, didn't work. She leaned on me until finally I agreed to go.

There was a store just a few miles away that catered to a lot of people into exercise. They had biking outfits and climbing outfits, and all sorts of shorts and tops combos, plus the leotards of course.

I found a couch and a book about fishing and sat down prepared to be bored. Sharon poked around and finally found several outfits, and headed off to the dressing room. She put one on and came out, asked me what I thought. I looked up, went "Uh huh, that's nice" and went back to my book.

She was putting on the 4th outfit and I was checking my wristwatch, starting to get pissed. Hell, I am a guy, I go in, see a shirt, tell them my size and go out the door. I try the fucking thing on at home.

Just then Sharon came out. She had on one of those high in the crotch things, thin and Yellow, the top covered the bottom half of her tits and that was all. If it wasn't for the straps holding the top up her boobs would come bouncing right out of there. The crotch was what got me, it wasn't an inch wide. Her fairly full bush was sticking an inch out each side! I even looked around to see if anyone was watching, no one was.

"I will need to shave to wear this one."

No shit.

Then she reached down and popped the snaps and said, "See, it unsnaps like this." pulling the crotch open.

I sat there with my mouth open. Finally I managed to mention that I didn't think she could stay in that and work out. That got me a mischievious grin and she went back into the cubicle.

Yep, bought that one.

At the next session all the ladies were going "Oh how cute!" while wrinkling up their noses behind her back. The guys just ignored her, except for Steve. I should tell you about Steve. He is one of these guys whose shit don't stink, and he knows everything about everything. He also has arms the size of trash cans. He makes it obvious that he likes the ladies, and most of them would start acting like schoolgirls if he did pay them any attention. I had a feeling without knowing for sure that he was poking Clara from time to time, even though she was married.

Yes, a bit of an asshole, I tolerated him, about it. Plus his arms were damn fucking near as big around as my legs.

Sure enough, Steve seemed to manage to always be in position to help Sharon with the weights. I was watching the situation, Sharon had a lot of her stuff showing. Normally the idea of someone peeking at her would get me going, but I didn't like Steve much.

So I was helping Clara do some presses, trying to keep an eye on what Steve was doing. That is tough to do because if the spotter misses the weight when needed, someone can get hurt. Clara had 110# on her bar, about her limit, too. I could hear Sharon giggling at something but couldn't look over there to see what was going on.

Finally Clara set her bar down and sat up.

"Relax." she smiled at me.

I looked over at Sharon, every time she lifted her 80# weight bar, her tits would roll up and almost out, then slide back into the top. Fucking Steve was standing there with his hands out to catch the bar, but he was staring down her top. I glanced down at her spread legs, the only thing that kept her pussy from looking completely bare was the pair of snaps side by side right in the middle. The seam on one side had rolled upwards and one pussy lip was sticking out in clear view.

I was crabby, confused. Hell, I liked this stuff, now I didn't like it, what the hell was the matter with me?

So of course Sharon and I had a big shouting match that night. I yelled at her for playing up to Steve, she yelled at me for staring at Clara's crotch all the time, accused me of screwing around with her.

Then the bombshell.

She was so furious at me that she shouted, "What the fucking hell difference does it make? I have already fucked him several times!" and she slammed the bedroom door.

I stood there in shock for what seemed like an hour. Finally I went into my downstairs office and slept on my couch.

I left early for my job, didn't wake Sharon or call. I didn't go home that night, either, I took a room at a local hotel. I turned the heat way up, I just couldn't seem to get warm.

By weekend I was recovering from the sting of those words, I decided I would get some revenge.

Yep, pissed off.

I called Clara.

We chatted a bit, then she agreed to meet me "for a drink." We both knew what that meant. I could go into what we chatted about, but it was all drivel leading up to being alone up in my hotel room.




Flasher!



Clara looked just as fine completely naked as she did almost naked. Her breasts were still firm with just a bit of sagging, small but nicely formed, evidence of the muscles underneath were obvious. Her abdomen was flat as a pancake and rippled with muscle from the regular workouts. Her pussy was the kind that opened like a flower as she became aroused. The kind of stuff we men jack off wishing for.

I acted like I loved that.

And I was as limp as a noodle!

No amount of attention made any difference. I licked Clara until she climaxed, best I could do. She played and stroked, sucked on me, teased, all the things that will drive any man insane.

Nothing.

She told me not to worry, it was OK, but I could see the look in her eyes. I was almost glad when she left.

I just went back to my room.

It was the next day when the phone rang, it was Sharon. She went into being "sorry" all the usual shit involved with being caught cold and no doubt.

There was a long winded story about it "Just happening" and "She didn't know why", on and on.

I believed her, I wanted our life back. Plus I realized that some of it was most likely the result of me feeding her fantasies, making suggestions to her that turned her incredibly on.

She promised me, swore that it was over, nothing would ever happen again.

So Sharon and I settled back into our boring life, I worked, she kept house, we made love sometimes once a week, sometimes twice a week. I didn't do any of the scenarios for her, figured there was no need.

Then one day I left work early, drove to our house. I walked in the door, it was quiet, all in order. Then I heard the sounds from the bedroom. Yes, you guessed it, she was down on her back, Steve was stroking away at her, so engrossed he didn't realize I was there.

I walked back out into my den, my pistol hung there on the wall in it's holster. I walked back into the bedroom, they still had not noticed me.

Rage.

I pointed and pulled the trigger, nothing happened. I stood there feeling stupid, realized the safety was on. I fumbled with the thing, some damn little lever on the side. Steve realized I was there, he was starting to lift himself up off my wife, I got the safety lever moved and pointed and fired.

Shot a hole in the curtain and the bedroom window. Steve was moving faster now, but it was like in slow motion, his dick withdrew and I had a flash of it, hell, the fucking thing was only half the size of mine and it was still half hard!

I pulled the trigger again, hit the wall behind him. The goddamn little slide thing came back and bit a chunk out of my hand, then jammed. I started jerking on it, trying to get it free, finally the slide moved and another shell went into the chamber.

Steve now had his hands up yelling "NONONONO!" I just pointed and fired right at his chest.

Killed the fucking lamp on the table behind him, the bulb went out in a shower of sparks. I pulled the trigger again, hit the other windowpane and it collapsed in scattering of glass.

Then I realized Sharon was screaming, Steve was backing away, his hands up trying to protect himself. I pointed deliberately at the motherfucker, pulled the trigger again. I actually hit the SOB that time, right in his left thigh. I was aiming at his head. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and fell to the floor, still yelling, "NONONONO!!"

I looked at Sharon, sitting there on our bed, naked.

I turned and walked out of the room, disgusted with them, with myself, unable to even shoot them right.

I called 911, told them I had just shot Steve and to hurry up or I was going to go back in there and shoot him again!

The lady on the phone told me to "Calm down, Sir, please calm down, help is on the way."

Help? Yea, I needed help all right. I just hung up.

I heard the sirens, I waited. Finally, I heard them at the door, I put the barrel into my mouth, pulled the trigger.

Click.

Just fuck!

The door burst open, suddenly there were big guys everywhere, I was in handcuffs, and the fun part was so was Steve. Sharon came out, she was bawling and wrapped in a blanket. The cops were rougher on Steve than me, they had seen things like this before, I guess.

I was aquitted, justifiable under the laws of my State, it seems. I think that is a stretch, but I did notice the prosecutor seemed to be as much on my side as the Attorney I had was, that helped.

So I did 6 days in jail, released on my own recog, ordered to stay away from my wife. Oddly she didn't fight me for the house, so I got to go home. She also didn't touch any of the bank accounts, and she could have.

At home, nothing was moved. The two windows were still broken, I fixed those. I threw the lamp away, wiped up the black bloodstains on the carpet, knowing I would need a new one. I just left the hole in the wall.

I slept on the couch.

Situations like this mean divorce of course, I waited for the papers to arrive, none ever did. I went back to my life, just living it. No women around, I guess I more or less shunned them all.

One day I stopped at a little sidewalk cafe, it had a nice reputation for good food and cute waitresses. I was sitting there messing with a salad so big I didn't need the main course when I spotted a lady sitting just 20 feet away. She had on a short skirt, as I looked her way her legs parted a bit more than would be normal.

I looked again, the long blonde hair confused me for a moment, then I realized it was Sharon.

Looking closer, I could see all the way to her bare crotch, she was exposing herself to me. Lord help me, I began to arouse.

This went on for several minutes, then she got up, walked over to me.

"May I join you?"

"Yea."

She sat down, smiled at me. I smiled at her.

We talked that day for hours, finally she was promising me she would be totally faithful, if I just gave her "One more chance."

Lord help me, I believed her. We left that day hand in hand, and had magic lovemaking like we had done years before.

Now we go out together and do things, we flash strangers. It is always "accidental", It seems to excite me, turn me on.

I don't know why.

There is no sign at all of her cheating or sleeping around, time will tell. Since she did it twice before, perhaps. But then guns going off when caught in such a situation might cause her to think about that. Plus I did some practice at a local firing range, I don't miss much anymore.

Once when Sharon and I were talking the subject of Steve came up. She told me that she thought it was something I wanted and wouldn't mind, since I did all those suggestions to her as we made love.

I didn't believe her, because she kept it a secret. Like I said, time will tell.

We even ran into Steve at a different club, still doing his posing and showing off his muscles. He spotted me, turned white. I smiled at the small dicked SOB, and walked right by him.

The other fun part? Well, I went to see Clara again, I was feeling good. I hosed her from one end of her apartment to the other, then I went home and did the same to Sharon.

Somehow that made me feel better, but I also realize it was stupid. Now I am just like Sharon, also a cheat. I don't know if it makes us even or not.

Somehow I don't think so since I feel guilty about it. One day I will tell Sharon, and I simply don't know what her reaction will be.

Sharon and I still go to the clubs to work out. She is still sexy as hell when we do it, so am I. I have these tight shorts that outline my cock and balls clear as a bell, the other women look at me and smile. Sharon has gotten very good at letting half her pussy slide out of the crotch of her outfit when she is working out. Sometimes I get an erection and it sticks right out the top of my shorts. I just let it.

So the guys look and the ladies look. No one says anything.

When we go on trips, we always flash. Sharon has some Bikinis that are impossibly skimpy. She doesn't shave, she has her pussy waxed. I found out the person waxing her is a guy, oddly, it didn't bother me. Sharon just grinned when she told me, watching me come erect at the idea.

One day I am going to go down and watch the guy do the job. I may see if he has a female helper because that could be fun.

Way it is, and it seems to work for us.

For now.

MGM



Flasher



I tend to dislike parent/teacher nights. The parents, if they actually bother to turn up, tend to whine a lot, explaining it's not their fault that little Johnny/Mary is a thug/tart with the intelligence of a goose and the social skills of a mongoose.

I have to gently explain that I'm there to further the kid's education in basics like reading and writing. Social behaviour is part of the parent's responsibility. Have they explained to little Johnny that he can't always get his own way by hitting people?

Of course, there are some reasonable parents who are genuinely interested in knowing how their child is progressing and what, if anything, they should do to assist their child.

Fortunately, as I've moved up to teaching the higher grades, I find a lot more of the second type of parent, mainly because the thugs and tarts have dropped out and are now terrorizing the local neighbourhood instead of the schoolyard.

This year the senior grade consists of seventeen and eighteen year olds and they know where they're going and are willing to study. Very few of their parents will bother with the parent/teacher interviews because they're not really required. Some die-hards continue to come, probably just to put that tiny bit of pressure on their child, letting him/her know that they were watching.

I actually had a couple scheduled for the night that this particular incident happened, which made the whole thing a bit. . . different, is how I'd describe it.

The last period I had I was really just discussing assignments that had recently been handed in, using some as examples of excellent work, while not specifying whose they were. Jenny was sitting in the front row, which surprised me a little. She usually chose one if the back rows. She was one of the students whose parents were coming to see me later. 

Jenny was one of the older girls, eighteen, nearly nineteen, I believe. She was blonde, had a nice figure and always seemed to have a boyfriend in tow. I had no idea if she was sexually active, and it was none of my business anyway, but it wouldn't have been a shock to me if she was. She was quite intelligent and worked hard and her assignment was one of the ones I'd used as an example.

She had always struck me as polite and obedient, not really getting into much trouble. Every student has little lapses that get them into hot water, but some less than others and Jenny was one I had unconsciously flagged as safe. Not someone you had to watch like a hawk.

So I was a little taken aback when I called on her to answer a question and she spread her legs far enough apart for me to see her panties. That is, I would have seen them if she'd been wearing any. I copped a good enough look to see that she was indeed a natural blonde and that she trimmed her fur.

It wasn't just once that she flashed me, either. If I looked in her direction her legs would part. I gave her a rather cold look and did my best to ignore her. There was no way I was going to call her out for that sort of behaviour in front of the whole class.

When the final bell rang I dismissed the class and as they were scrambling to get up and go I added a message.

"Oh, Jenny. Could I see you in my office, please. I'd like to discuss your assignment with you before your parents arrive."

What could she do? She nodded and said "Yes, sir" very quickly and bolted. I hoped she didn't drop any of her books. Her skirt was short enough that if she bent to pick anything up she'd be flashing the whole school.

Whoever designed the school buildings was apparently experimenting with different ways of doing things. One result of this was that instead of having a communal teacher's room we all had our own little offices tucked away in various corners of the building. It seemed to me that every time the architect had a bit of spare space he made it a teacher's office. The teachers had to spend half their time running around to different offices to talk to each other. One and all, we condemned the architect as a jackass. The only advantage of the disbursed offices was that some of them gave the lucky occupant a good deal of privacy. Mine was one of those. During breaks and after school my little office was in the equivalent of Siberia. No-one went there unless they had to.

Jenny had to. I'd barely gotten settled at my desk and she was tapping at the door. I called on her to enter and she came in and stood nervously in front of my desk. I didn't invite her to sit.

I glowered at her for a moment, watching her start to blush.

"Tell me Jenny," I said to her. "Do you know what social mores are?"

"Ah, it's the way people in a society interact with each other," she mumbled.

"Close enough. Now tell me, do the current social mores include young women showing of their privates in public in an attempt to initiate sexual intercourse?"

Her face blazed.

"I wasn't trying to get you to have sex with me," she gasped, apparently deeply shocked at the idea.

"Really? You could have fooled me. What other reason could you have for spending your time in class showing off your pussy? Pardon me if I seem a little crude, but so was your behaviour."

"It wasn't deliberate," she muttered, not looking at me. "I just forgot I wasn't wearing any panties, that was all." 

"Ah, I see. And dare I ask why you weren't wearing any panties?"

"Um, I had an accident during the lunch break and they got torn and I didn't have a spare pair with me."

"And didn't bother going to the Head Mistress and telling her of your predicament so she could get you a pair, of which she keeps a stock available. Let's see - panties torn in an accident."

I opened the folder that I had in front of me and ran my hand down the list. 

"Excuse number seven - tore my panties in an accident. Not very original, you know. The best one is number one, a bee stung me on my privates and it hurt too much to wear panties. I will say that the girl who had her panties ripped off by a dog that then ate them had quite a good story, too.

I'd probably be willing to believe your excuse a little more if you'd only flashed me once, not that I would have noticed if you'd been sitting in your normal seat."

I shut up and regarded Jenny, letting the silence work for me. Jenny was looking everywhere but at me, apparently not knowing what to say. Finally she blurted it out.

"It was a bet. I lost a bet and as a penalty I had to flash you in class."

"It was a bet is on the list of excuses, too. It's the most common and probably the most truthful. Lift up the front of your dress."

"Lift up my dress?"

I nodded.

"Why do I have to lift up my dress?"

"Because I want to see if you had the common sense to put your panties on before coming to see me or whether you left them off thinking I'd fall for your story. I can't believe you if you say you have or haven't, so lift it and show me, now."

A sloth would move faster than Jenny lifting her dress, to reveal that she hadn't bothered putting her panties back on. I had a much closer view this time, and it was quite charming. Before I could speak, my phone rang and I answered it.

It was the office. Jenny's parents had turned up for the parent/teacher interview. 

"Can you give my apologies and tell them I'll be with them as soon as possible. I'm discussing something with a student right now and it's taking a little longer than I anticipated. Give them some coffee and kindness and I'll hurry things along here."

Jenny was still standing there with her dress lifted, face burning. 

"I see. You decided to try to bluff it out. Silly of you, wasn't it? You do realize that I can't let this sort of behaviour pass unpunished, don't you."

She nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "If you were younger I'd know how to deal with you, but at your age?" I shook my head. "I'll have to discuss it with your parents, I suppose. They've just arrived for their parent/teacher interview."

Jenny was horrified.

"You can't tell them," she gasped. "They'll be furious. I'll be grounded for months. Provided my dad doesn't kill me first. You just can't tell them."

"Really? Then what do you suggest I do?"

Jenny looked around, a hunted expression on her face. Then an idea struck.

"You said if I was younger you'd know how to deal with it. Why can't you deal with me in the same way?"

"Because a younger girl I could put over my knee and spank some sense into her," I said. "I can't do that with you."

"Uh, if I agreed to it you could," Jenny muttered, looking at the floor.

I sighed and, getting off my chair, I walked around to stand next to her. She was still clutching her skirt, apparently not realising she was still showing everything she had.

"A younger girl has certain legal protection that you don't have," I explained. "You're eighteen and, as far as a man is concerned, this is fair game." 

On the word 'this' I reached down and cupped her mound. Her mouth and eyes all popped wide open. I continued.

"Now while it is one thing to spank you on the bottom," reaching around with my other hand to slip it under her dress and start rubbing her bottom, "it would be quite another thing for me to start paddling you here," gently massaging her mound while her face glowed and she spluttered.

Jenny finally came out of her shock and started pushing my hands away, probably relieved when they moved easily.

"But you wouldn't," she said quickly. "You'd just spank me, and I can put up with that. I'm willing to trust you."

"Then trust me when I tell you this. If you were to bend over the desk to be spanked I would molest you and ravish you. The only thing that would save you from being raped would be for you to give your consent, and even then my cock would probably be deep inside you before you finished saying yes."

"You wouldn't, would you? You're a teacher. You don't do things like that." 

"Jenny, where you're concerned I'm prepared to make an exception. So unless you're sexually active and willing to broaden your experience you'd better think of something else."

She was stubborn. Naïve, granted, but stubborn.

"What about if you put me across your knee to spank me? Then you couldn't rape me."

I sat on the visitor's chair.

"Let me demonstrate something to you, Jenny. Bend over my knee as though you were going to be spanked."

Hesitantly, she did so, tugging at her dress in an attempt to keep her bottom covered. It didn't help as I promptly pushed the dress up out the way.

"Now while you're bent over my knee like this, not only is your bottom facing me but your legs are slightly splayed and your mound is on display. The natural space between your legs allows me to see and touch you here, for a start."

I poked a finger between into the gap, pressing against her womanly softness, right at that point where I'd like to place my cock.

"At the same time, your breast is right here next to my hand."

I demonstrated how easily her breast came to my hand. She only had a light bra on under her blouse and I found and pressed her nipple with no problems. 

"I can assure you that if I was to give you an over-the-knee spanking I'd also be playing with you to the point that you'd be so aroused that you wouldn't be able to say no when I finished spanking and started ravishing. Are you starting to get the idea?" 

While I'd been talking I'd also continued to gently massage her mound and her breast. When I finished speaking, Jenny just continued to lie over my knee, so I continued to play with her. Then she suddenly snapped out of it and pushed herself up and away, scrambling off my knee.

"You're just using this incident as an excuse to try and have sex with me," she gasped. "You're despicable."

"On the contrary," I said with a laugh. "I'm trying to protect you from yourself by warning you of what might happen. Now we're going to go and see your parents. During the interview you can confess to what you did and I'll leave the whole thing in their hands or you can remain after the interview and I'll paddle your pretty little tush."

"But you said if you spank me you'll also, ah, have sex with me."

"I did, didn't I. So if you choose to get yourself paddled it shouldn't come as a surprise when other things happen as well."

I stood up and headed towards the door.

"Come along. Oh, if you've got panties stashed away somewhere you might like to put them on. School rules insist that girls wear them."

It turned out that she did have a pair stuffed in the pocket of her dress, and she hurriedly scrambled into them and followed me out the door.

The interview with Jenny's parents went well, helped by the fact that Jenny is a good student and doing well, today's lapse in social etiquette excepted. Jenny kept her mouth shut most of the time, finally having a quiet word with her mother at the end of the interview.

Her mother frowned at her and shook her head. Not in refusal - more in you're a silly girl way. Then her parents were leaving, plainly not expecting Jenny to go with them. I glanced at Jenny and raised an eyebrow.

"I told mum I had detention for talking in class. I said I have to stay behind for a half hour to practice being quiet."

Not a bad excuse. I'd have to use that as a punishment on some of the chatterboxes I run into. I turned and strolled back to my little office, Jenny trotting along next to me.

Reaching my office I opened the door and ushered Jenny in, thoughtfully locking the door behind me. Jenny was standing in front of my desk, looking nervous, so I hastened to set her mind at ease.

"I think it might be best if you got completely undressed, Jenny."

Her eyes opened wide and she looked horrified.

"Why? I don't need to get undressed, surely?"

"Mmm. I think so. Right now you're still telling yourself that I won't really seduce you. Being naked will help you to come to terms with it, help you understand that it is going to happen. Would you like my help in getting undressed?"

Reaching over I started undoing her blouse. She gave a startled yelp and slapped at my hands. I held them still but didn't move them away, looking at her. When she didn't say anything I continued to undo her buttons. Buttons undone, I slid her blouse off her shoulders, pushing it down and slipping her arms out of the sleeves. Gently turning her I unhooked her bra then turned her to face me again.

I waited while she stood there, clutching her bra to her breast. Just when it seemed as though I'd have to move her arms aside and take the bra off myself she gulped and lowered her arms, letting the bra drop free. 

"Very nice," I said softly, forcing myself not to grab. 

Now that she'd actually started assisting in the removal of her clothes I stood back and let her get on with it. Red-faced, she unfastened her skirt and let it drop, then pushed her panties down and stepped out of them.

"Do you want me to just bend over the desk," she muttered, sounding a little forlorn.

"No, not yet," I told her. "You're nowhere near ready for something like that."

I sat on the visitor's chair, a hand under her elbow drawing her nearer.

"I'm going to put you over my knee and give you the spanking you're supposed to get. It will remind you that you've been misbehaving. On top of that it will help you adjust and prepare for whatever else may happen."

That said a slightly surprised Jenny found herself face down, bum up, across my knee. She was even more shocked when she found out that I really did intend to spank her. My hand came down firmly on her bottom to be greeted by a squeal of shock.

"Try to keep the noise down, Jenny," I chided her. "Do you really want someone coming in to see what's going on?"

With the next spank I slipped my free hand under her and let it close happily around her breast. I started stroking it and playing with the nipple, flicking the nipple lightly, using the same rhythm as my hand spanked her bottom. It was a case of spank-flick, spank-flick, with Jenny practically bouncing off my knee as I proceeded.

She was doing her best to keep quiet but I could hear little squeaks and gasps as I paddled her. The first time my hand slapped against her mound, stinging her pudenda, there was an especially loud squeak.

With that first slap against her pussy Jenny very hastily brought her legs together, and together they stayed for the next four or five spanks. Then they started to drift apart again, and this time they stayed apart, even after the next spank landed in a delicate place. 

The spanking I was delivering to her bottom stung but wouldn't cause any real harm. The secondary spanking I was giving her love mound was both stinging and exciting her. I could see her lips were swelling and parting, her inner lips puffing up and pushing out, making their needs known.

My hand started lingering on her mound when I spanked, squeezing and rubbing. It wasn't all that long before I dropped the bottom spanking, concentrating fully on teasing her mound. There was a definite squeak of outrage when my fingers slipped between her lips and started probing internally, but no attempt to stop me. I suspect that Jenny was finding that her body was starting to dictate terms to her mind.

Playing with Jenny told me several things. One was that she was ready for anything that might follow, being hot, wet and eager. Unfortunately, a second thing was that she was still a virgin. Did I have moral qualms about deflowering an innocent young maiden? Not really, I decided. It just meant I'd have to go slowly.

After a couple more minutes of stoking the fires I let my fingers go poking around her clitoris. A gentle touch there brought forth a sharp squeal and Jenny almost bucked off my knee. She settled back down, shuddering slightly.

"Don't do that," she muttered.

"What, this?" I asked, to be met by another display of why I shouldn't touch her there.

"Yes, that. Don't do it," came the reply in a sort of half wail.

"OK, no more of this," I said agreeably, showing what I wouldn't do.

This time Jenny did buck off my knee, helped, I must say, by me easing her back onto her feet when she bucked.

She stood looking at me, her face flushed and her breasts heaving in a most enchanting way.

"I think," I said in a carefully dispassionate tone of voice, "that you had better get dressed now. If you don't you will very quickly join the ranks of ex-virgins."

I paused for a moment while Jenny just stared at me, trying to take in what I'd just said.

"Well, chop, chop," I said, making hurry up movements with my hands. "Let's get a move on."

"What do you mean get dressed?" Jenny asked, and her eyes were sparkling. She looked excited and angry.

"What do I mean? I mean you take your clothes, put them on that delectable little body of yours, and high-tale it out of here while you can. I'm trying to be very high-minded and moral here."

"High-minded and moral be damned. You've got me all worked up and now you're telling me that's it? How dare you?" Her voice was steadily rising. My, she was in a temper.

"You mean you want me to lay you back against the desk and ravish your lovely body?" I asked.

"Why else did you bring me here? You can't back out now, damn you."

I stood up and slowly undid my trousers. Jenny stood there, watching, looking slightly triumphant that she'd won and would be ravished according to plan.

I suspect her triumph may have faded a little in favour of nervousness when she found herself looking at my instrument of ravishment. Her eyes flicked from my erection to my face and back to my erection.

"I want you to lean back against the desk," I told her.

"Back against it, not over it," I asserted, when she went to turn and bend over.

"Why?"

"As a virgin you should get to watch as you're taken for the first time," I told her. "I want you to be able to watch and see me enter you, not just stand there bent over and cringing, waiting for something to happen." 




Flasher



She leaned back as instructed, legs parted, arms behind her supporting her. She was looking a lot more nervous now. I think she'd rather have the whole thing come as a surprise rather than watch my cock approach. But watch she did, eyes glued to my erection as I eased nearer to her.

I brushed the head of my cock back and forth against her swollen lips, teasing her. I could see her nervousness fading away, being replaced by irritation that I wasn't actually doing anything. Mind you, I'm quite sure that if she'd been asked yesterday if a cock brushing against her swollen lips was doing something she would have given a horrified yes. Now it was just a stalling tactic and she wanted the main event to start.

A little push against those fat moist lips and they yielded, letting me in but promptly closing around me. Jenny gave a shuddering sigh, and kept a close eye on what was happening. I eased forward a little, finding Jenny automatically pushing forward to meet me. It only took a moment and the moment of truth was upon us. 

With my cock pressed firmly against her hymen I waited, wanting her to look up at me. After a few moments she did, breathing hard. 

"You know this may hurt a little?"

She gave me a feminine look.

"Fuck that," she muttered, and to my surprise she looked down and pushed forcefully against me, squealing as her hymen yielded, but continuing to push herself onto me. 

Startled, I found myself pushing into a passage that was well and truly ready for me, even if I wasn't quite ready to be there. Not that the suddenness of the event stopped me from pushing forcefully home, my sword filling its sheath with no problems.

Jenny looked at me triumphantly.

"Didn't hurt a bit," she said airily, a fact that was belied by a tear in one eye.

"I'm so pleased for you," I murmured, "but I'm afraid you'll find the pain is still to come."

"What? How? It shouldn't hurt at all after the start," she protested.

"Well, I'm afraid that you will find that there is more pain in the offing as I intend to spank you for that little stunt. You could have been badly hurt."

"You were dithering again," Jenny said kindly. "I thought you were going to back out."

I laughed. "I wasn't dithering. I was taking it slowly so that you wouldn't get hurt. Any gentleman would be careful when initiating a virgin."

"Maybe so, but we're not discussing gentlemen. We're talking about you."

Oh, she was so going to get her bottom smacked again. Not just yet, though. Right now I had other things in mind.

I gave her a look of my own and pressed slightly harder against her, bringing to her full attention the fact that I was male and had her where I wanted her. She gasped, and her breathing kicked up a notch. Then I started moving in her.

I started slowly, pulling back and returning, giving her a feel for what was to happen. After a few moments she was moving with me, looking at me hard, but also concentrating on what was happening. Then the excitement being stirred up appeared to get to her. A funny look crossed her face and her eyes went dreamy. Then she stopped looking at me.

Her eyes closed and she just swayed against me, moving in time with my gentle thrusting. The way she was reacting I saw no need to increase the pace at all. She was one with the motion, her whole body swaying back and forth as I gently engaged her and started taking her on what I hoped would be a long journey to her first climax.

I slid in and out, enjoying the power I had over her, enjoying the feel of her young body so completely surrendering to mine. I saw no need to quicken the pace. Jenny was completely enthralled by what I was doing, not knowing where things were heading but lost in the journey. 

Back and forth, on and on, the excitement slowly building. Time didn't worry us. We had all day and I was quite willing to keep this up all night as well. She felt marvellous. I pressed on, working hard at maintaining the slow rhythm while my whole body was starting to yell at me to take her hard.

On we went. Jenny was shaking her head now, tossing it about, moaning with the need building within her. I suspect that if she'd been more experienced she'd have been asking for me to take her harder and faster, but without that experience she didn't ask and so didn't get.

She was moaning louder now, a real need in her voice, and I wondered if I could actually take her to a climax at this slow stroke. Then I ceased wondering. Her eyes popped open in shock, and a stifled scream came from her. Stifled, because she was jamming her hands into her mouth. I could feel her clamping down on me, her orgasm having sneaked up and struck, taking me by surprise, but to her utter consternation from the look of it. 

With Jenny already climaxing I just gave a couple of harder thrusts and let my own climax wash over me, releasing myself within her.

We didn't actually say much afterwards. Jenny grabbed some tissues from a box on my desk and wiped herself down, dressed and wandered off, looking very dreamy. I tidied up in the office and went home. 

I thought about our encounter a couple of times the next day when I spotted Jenny around the school. She seemed her normal cheerful self, although it seemed to me that she had a few too many boys following her about. It was almost as if they could smell the change in her virginal status. I determinedly put it from my mind.

Last class of the day for me and Jenny was in it. I just treated her the way I always had, although I did notice that she had the front row again. And then the rotten little wretch flashed me again. Oh, she was so going to be in trouble after the class.



Flasher Exposes More Than His Cock



Halloween flasher exposes more than his cock by saying the magic words, "Treat or Trick."

No doubt about it. No ands, ifs, or maybes, Dwayne was a pervert, always was and always will be. If there was one thing that defined Dwayne, more than the fact that he was married with children, held down a good job, was a good friend, a loving son, brother, uncle, and son, was active in his community, and did his civic duty by paying his taxes and voting, he was a flasher.

He's been a flasher, as long as he could remember. He even remembered the first time he flashed his cock was to his cousin and his aunt, then later to whichever relative and friend came to his parents house. Not long after, he took his show on the road, flashing his cock outside to women he didn't even know.

The guilt that seeped through and that eventually overwhelmed his excitement of exposing himself, indelibly stamped flasher on his forehead in the way that Nathaniel Hawthorne indelibly stamped the scarlet letter on Hester Prynne for bearing an illegitimate child. The same shame, despair, and solitude of his crime of flashing is something that he alone bore and that always was there in the background, as if watching a pouring rain on a grey, foggy day from inside his house. Flashing, a bittersweet moment, the lewd and lascivious sexual assault that made him feel bad about what he did later to unsuspecting women, superseded whatever pleasure he received from flashing. Yet, as his way to remove the guilt, the shame, and the despair, he continued flashing.

On the surface, just another harmless exhibitionist, he was more a nuisance than anything else. In a world of passions with some men who love to drink, other men who love sports, and with most men who love drinking, while enjoying their passion for sports, there are those who love their hogs, their cars, and their hobbies, whatever, Dwayne loved exposing himself to women. Yet, not giving Dwayne his just do, he was more than just an impulsive and random flasher. In the way that he planned when and where he'd flash, so as not to be caught and without ever being caught, with the guile and plotting of a bank robber casing out the location of his crime, Dwayne put the same level of serious effort in his flashing. 

More hands off, but in the same vein as those Japanese men who shark women by lifting their skirts to expose their panties, pulling down their panties to expose their asses and pussies, and/or pulling down their tube tops to expose their tits, what excited him was to catch women by surprise and flash them his cock. Even though he was aghast by those Japanese men who played their raping game of Chikan on subway trains, buses, and hotel swimming pools, Dwayne never even consider touching, groping, and/or exposing his flashing victim. He derived his excitement from only exposing himself. Having women see his exposed prick was all he ever needed and wanted.

His way of recapturing his most exciting days in his life, over and again, he felt that same level of excitement, as if it was the first time, as if it was the first kiss, every time he flashed his cock to a woman. Reigniting the excitement he had the first time he got laid, the first night of his Honeymoon, his first job, the birth of his first child, his first new car, whatever it was that made him crazy with excitement, flashing created that same level of excitement over and again in him. Every time women saw his prick was as if he received a shot of renewed adrenaline that made him want to flash again. Whether depressed, worried, and, even sick, just by the mere flash of his cock, he'd forget his personal problems, if only for the time before, during, and after his flashing adventure.

Indeed, flashing his cock was his miracle drug. An elixir that he could not buy over the counter or even with a doctor's prescription. Even though psychologists and psychiatrists have all used their full education and experience in hoping to improve the mental health of Dwayne by stopping him from flashing, he was never as happy as he was when flashing his cock to unsuspecting women.

In readiness to flash, as his flashing victim neared, he was so excited that he'd quiver. Young or old, tall or short, fat or thin, no matter, he was so excited that he shake and quake, while exposing himself to whomever she was. Deliriously not with the joy of cooking, sewing, or baking that any of his victims may have enjoyed doing, his joy was more base and vile. The role of the women, other than being forced to be victim to see Dwayne's exposed cock, were just a casualty of his crime. As if a junkie needing his fix, needing that constant excitement to make him feel alive, Dwayne was delirious with sexual excitement before, during, and after flashing.

It wasn't only flashing his cock that got him excited but also in watching their reaction to their seeing his cock; that's what did it for him and really made his day. Whatever their reaction, was what he needed to take away with him to replay through his mind, while masturbating over the incident later. Reliving the flashing events later by masturbating over what they all saw of him, their reaction to having seen his cock was what excited him. The more violated they felt, the more horror at the sight of his cock that they showed on their faces, and the more they showed him their revulsion to him flashing his cock to them, the more their reactions made him want to flash more women. He masturbated over what they all saw and how they reacted when they saw his exposed prick. Flashing his cock was a viscous cycle of perversion; the more he flashed, the more he wanted to flash.

Just as there were ones who looked once, there were others who looked, looked away, and looked again. Some stared but, as if they all feared that he was going to chase them, attack them, and rape them, they all hurried away. Most women looked at him, as if he had a disease or as if there was something really wrong with him, which, of course, there was. The first to admit it, he always felt that there was something seriously wrong with him for him to not only flash women but also for him to enjoy flashing women.

Yet, just as he couldn't help himself from enjoying flashing women nor could he stop from flashing woman. All it took for him to want to flash a woman was to see a woman in a place where he knew he could flash her and get away. The excited enjoyment he felt from flashing far outweighed any shame he imagined that he'd have had for exposing himself to women later. Besides, the shame and self-loathing didn't come until much later and he could always reverse his mood and turn his bad days to good days by flashing again. Even though he sometimes felt guilty about exposing himself to women, even though he was made to feel bad by some of the looks of horror he received from flashing his cock, it didn't matter, he still flashed them.

An intelligent man, he justified his flashing by seeing the other side of the coin. As the flasher that he was, he couldn't help but think about all the women who flash men in a bar, on a beach, on a subway, at sporting events, on a dare, at Mardi Gras, and at Spring Break? What about them? Why is their flashing acceptable, even encouraged, behavior? Why is their flashing any different from his flashing? Why aren't those women arrested for exposing themselves? Why aren't those women made to feel like the sexual deviates and perverted predators that they are in the way they purposely tease men by purposely flashing them their naked and semi-naked bodies?

For the sake of unmercifully teasing men, those women who flash their bodies to men, while making it appear accidental and making the men feel like the perverts that they aren't, are the perverted ones by showing so much of their skin to men. Why aren't the names of those women listed on a sex registry list? Why aren't those women hunted down and chastised, instead of being cheered and revered, in the way that he's been so treated?

It didn't make any sense to him. The same laws of public nudity should apply to all, regardless of sex. Admittedly, if a woman flashed herself in front of a police officer, especially if that woman was obese and/or unattractive, chances are, she'd be arrested. Yet, if a woman who looked like a Sports Illustrated bikini babe or a Victoria's Secret underwear model, even without wings, she'd be asked out for a drink, dinner, and more. 

There are many times more women flashing their bras, panties, tits, asses, and pussies, than there are men flashing their cocks. Just as a woman would never walk up to him and fondle, stroke and suck his cock, after he flashed her, other than to just flash her his cock, he'd never attack anyone. He'd never rape anyone. His thing was just to expose his thing, so that he could capture their reaction to them seeing his thing. Another thing, he needed that visualization, so that he could relive his flashing events to masturbate over them later. 

Flashing women didn't work, as well, if his targeted women enjoyed what they saw and stared. He needed that shock value. Instead of being shocked by his flashing, it wasn't as much fun when the women more enjoyed what they saw. Whenever that happened, whenever they stared too long, he'd give them a real show by masturbating in front of them.

"Eww, that's so disgusting. You're so disgusting. I can't believe you're masturbating in front of me," said his targeted victim staring, while watching him masturbate. "Pervert," she said finally leaving.

Usually, then, he'd get the reaction that he so wanted and he so needed from them for him to masturbate over later. That's how he met his second wife, Ida, by flashing her and when she stared too long, he masturbated in front of her. Yet, that's another story in a completely different Literotica category, Erotic Couplings or Loving Wives, for another time.

Now with surveillance cameras everywhere, he had to be more careful not only who he flashed but also where he flashed. He had to scope out his flashing places first, as if he was a cat burglar getting ready to steal the family jewels, instead of flashing the family jewels. Further, in the age of Aquarius with women's lib giving women equal rights, the birth control pill, and women having as much sex, if not having more sex than men, women aren't as shocked by the sight of a cock, as they once were.

Furthermore, too many women are runners and weightlifters and can out run him, catch him, and hold him for police, should he try to run away. Then, there are those women who just can't take a joke and who studied Martial Arts, just to teach flashers like him a lesson. Some women carry Mace and even handguns. For sure, without a doubt, flashing for a flasher just isn't as safe as it used to be.

"This is a 44. Magnum, one of the most powerful handguns in the world. In all the excitement of you flashing me your cock, I don't remember if I loaded my gun this morning," she said in her best Clint Eastwood impersonation. "Are you feeling lucky, punk? Go ahead, make my day. Flash me your cock again and I'll blow it clean off."

"Take it easy, lady. I can't believe you keep that big gun in your bra."

"You'd better get the Hell out of here, before I make you a woman."

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving. I'm sorry."

Actually, it was no big deal for some women to see his cock. He had more difficulty in receiving the shocked reaction he needed to bring home with him, when a woman treated him more like a piece of meat than a sexual predator and a flasher. He hated those women who weren't offended by the mere sight of his cock, such as nurses. After having seen so many penises in their profession, they were the worst offenders to not being shocked by his flashing them.

"Is that all you got, honey? Does that little thing get any bigger than that? My hubby, my boyfriend, and my lover all have bigger cocks than that. I wouldn't so proudly flash that itty bitty thing around, if I were you, honey. I'd be embarrassed to show that little pecker. I'll tell you what, sugar. Maybe you should wear a bag over your head the next time you flash that limp, little dick, so that you don't embarrass yourself," she said with a laugh, while shaking her head and walking away. 

To make matters worse, the Internet with pornography 24/7 has virtually put flashers out of business. Now, instead of hiding behind a tree, a car, or a building to jump out at unsuspecting women and flash them his cock, he can just e-mail women his naked photo. It's exciting to send women he's been corresponding with a photo of his cock, especially if they write back their shocked surprise. Nonetheless, he never received the same level of excitement e-mailing a photo of his cock, as he received hunting down his victims on the street and flashing them his penis in a surprise ambush, so that he could personally witness and watch their live reactions on their faces to seeing his cock. 

When sending naked photos of his cock over the Internet, he missed the excitement of that cat and mouse chase and bagging them, when they least expected to see a prick, especially his prick. Besides, most women aren't morticians, anthropologists, and/or forensic scientists. When women want to see a cock, they want to see the face of the man, too, not just body parts. For sure, whenever he sent photos of his cock over the Internet, viewing his cock from the comfort and privacy of their homes, those women who would have been shocked, surprised, and looked away in disgust, if he flashed them on the street, were the same women who would stare at the nude photos he sent them.

Yet, this story is as much about flashing as it is about what happened to Dwayne last year. He'll never forget it. This one flashing event changed his life forever.

It was a week before Halloween. He always parked his car a distance away, but not too far, should he need to make a fast getaway. Just as he got out of his car and rounded the next corner, he saw a woman approaching. He didn't have a chance to set up and to stroke his cock to give himself more of an erection, but what the Hell, flashing this woman would get him in the mood to flash other women. He timed his move perfectly and, just as she rounded the corner, he stepped out of a doorway, opened his raincoat, and flashed her his cock.

She was an attractive women, possibly in her mid thirties. She had long, jet black hair and was all dressed in black. He figured she worked for one of the fashion houses that were located from Fifth to Ninth Avenues and that ran from 34th to 42nd Streets in New York.

Only, the peculiarly thing that should have raised a red flag and made him more suspicious to not only know who she was but also what she was, had he noticed, there was a black cat walking beside her. Weird. He never saw a cat walking with a person before, as would a dog walk with its owner. Now that he thought more about it, enchanted with human like qualities, such as intelligence and facial expressions, he didn't think that this cat would be afraid of any dog, no matter how large.

Over in a few seconds, their exchange happened so fast that there was no time for indecision or second thoughts on his part. He just jumped out, opened his coat, and flashed. Immediately after, he realized who and what she was, he wished he had never flashed her, of all people.

"Oops. Oh, shit."

She looked down at his cock and then up at him. She got this evil and crazy look on her face that frightened him. She looked as if, she was going to kill him or (gulp) turn him into a toad. Quickly he closed his raincoat, turned, and started quickly walking away in the opposite direction but to no avail. He couldn't get away from the sound of her voice. As if she carried a megaphone with her, with her voice traveling behind him and echoing between the uptown buildings off of East 72st Street and continuing as he ran through Central Park, he could still hear her yelling after him.

"You'll say treat or trick, when you flash your prick. No more surprised shock, when they see your cock. Each day treat or trick, they'll laugh at your dick."

He remembered hearing her laughing, even from blocks away. He chalked her up to being crazy and her words just insane ramblings of a crazy woman. He didn't even understand what any of her words meant. If anything, her words sounded like a curse. Did she just curse him? Did he inadvertently just flash a witch? Nah, there's no such thing as witches, are there?

He didn't think much about what she said, you'll say treat or trick, when you flash your prick, no more surprised shock, when they see your cock, each day treat or trick, they'll laugh at your dick. It was just utter nonsense. For sure, there are a lot of strange people in the world, more so in New York and, admittedly, she's one of them.

Then, a week after his altercation with the assumed, feared witch, the very next time he flashed a woman, something unexpected happened. Instead of his flashing experience being delightful, it was frightful. It was a Halloween night like any other Halloween night. In previous years, he never went out flashing on Halloween because there were too many kids. With children of his own, he wasn't a pedophile. He was just a flasher. Besides, he was always too busy trick or treating with his own kids and passing out candy to the neighborhood kids. Now, that his kids are grown with families of their own, with so many women out and about, he had the desire to flash on Halloween, albeit more carefully to make sure that it's only women that he's exposing himself to and not minors, and certainly not witches.

It was during the Halloween holiday that he noticed the changed behavior of the women he flashed. It all started with a woman who had just gotten off the bus. He was hiding around the corner waiting to surprise her. He had a good view from either direction, one watching her approach and the other making sure no man or cop was coming the other way to surprise him. Wearing nothing but shoes, socks, a hat, a raincoat, and a smile, quickly he masturbated just enough to give himself a nice, hard erection, while being careful not to cum. It'd be more exciting to cum later, after he flashed her, while recalling the look on her face, than it would be to cum now, before he flashed her.

Just as she neared, just as she rounded the corner, and just before she looked at him and his exposed prick, he jumped out and opened his raincoat. It was then that he said the magic words that changed his exhibitionistic flashing life forever.

"Treat or trick!"

Treat or trick? He didn't know why he said those words and why he said those words in reversed order, but he did. Maybe this, his first Halloween flashing, he was nervous. Maybe he thought it was funny and, with it being Halloween night and his treat and his trick was flashing his cock to her and one in the same, therefore it didn't matter in which order he said the words, it meant the same thing. Nah, that was just stupid.

He really didn't know why he said anything at all. In all the years he's been flashing and showing his cock to women, hundreds of women, maybe even thousands of women, he never spoke a word to any of his victims. He just flashed them and left to find another place to flash another woman.

Yet, this time, he received an unexpected reaction. She stopped. She stared. Then, she did something that no other woman has ever done before. Instead of showing a look of horror, instead of showing a look of shock, instead of showing a look of disgust, she smiled, while still staring at his exposed penis.

"Now, that's the best costume I've seen in a long time," she finally said laughing. "But aren't you a little old to be dressing up in a flashing costume for Halloween," she said with another laugh. "I don't have any candy with me," she said going through her purse. "But here's a dollar for making my day," she said walking away, while shaking her head and laughing. "Treat or trick. That was a good one saying it ass backwards like that."




Flasher Exposes More Than His Cock



He couldn't believe it. She laughed at him. With his cock shriveling by her rejection of it and of him, he was the one shocked and not her. He was bewildered. He was dazed. He didn't know what to think or what to do. She had totally thrown him off his flashing game.

"Costume? I don't get it. I'm naked," he said talking to himself, after she left. "How could she think my naked body is a costume. She actually thought my cock was a gag, a prop, a plastic dildo? Is that it?"

He couldn't believe what just happened. It put him out of the mood to flash, that is, until he saw another woman walking his way. Well, obviously, by the first woman's reaction, there was something wrong with that woman, for sure. Maybe she needed glasses to see that his cock was the real thing and not some rubbery, phony baloney. Yeah, maybe she was a female version of Mr. Magoo and was blind as a bat. Much like getting back on a horse after falling off of one, he'd flash this woman coming his way and he'd be right back in his game of exposing himself to unsuspecting women.

With her quickly approaching, he masturbated again to make his cock hard enough to make him proud. His exposed prick stuck straight out just in time for her to see that he had a big dick. He closed his raincoat and waited and watched timing his move to correspond with the click, click, click or her high heeled footsteps. Then, just as she rounded the corner, just as she'd be in his direct line of vision of him, he jumped out at her, pulled open his raincoat, and surprised her with a flash of his erect dick.

"Treat or trick!" 

Fuck! Are you kidding me? He said it again. Why did he say that? No matter, he was glad he said those words and in the order he said those words again. He needed to know if it was the treat or trick words that made the first woman think that he wasn't a flasher but a man in a flashing costume celebrating Halloween. With his raincoat held wide open, he watched her face for her reaction.

"Gees, you scared me," she said staring down and never removing her eyes from his exposed prick. "Treat or trick? That's a good one. That's funny, but I think you're a little confused. It's trick or treat," she said laughing, while still staring down at his cock. "Nice cock. It looks just like the real thing. May I?"

He couldn't believe it when she took a step closer, reached her hand down, and felt his exposed prick, before cupping his balls. As if she was feeling if someone had hair instead of a toupee, she actually pulled his cock and stroked it.

"Just like the real thing," she said slowly shaking her head. "It feels just as good as it looks. It feels and looks better than my dildo," she said still holding his cock and still stroking him with her hand and fondling him with her fingers, as if holding a mood stone in her hand. "I could use one of these when I'm relaxing in my bath later," she said looking at him. "Where'd you get it?"

"A little adult store on Forty-second Street," he said, no longer wanting to play his game and going along with her game instead. Not wanting to expose anymore of himself than he'd already exposed, he closed his raincoat.

"Sorry, I don't have any candy," she said letting go of his cock to reach in her purse. "But here's a dollar."

Dejected, degraded, depressed, defeated, and demoralized, instead of a flasher, instead of being deemed a pervert who exposed his cock to women, he was now upgraded to just a panhandler, a beggar, a bum, a loser, and a nuisance. What the fuck! This was embarrassing. He was a failure as a flasher. He had a good mind to hang up his raincoat for good and wear pants and (gulp) even underwear everywhere he went.

It was then that he realized that every time he flashed he had to say, "Treat or trick," and every time he said that, while flashing women, they laughed at him. That woman who said those words to him, "You'll say treat or trick, when you flash your prick, no more surprised shock, when they see your cock, each day treat or trick, they'll laugh at your dick," must have been a witch and put a curse on him and a spell on everyone who sees his cock.

Yet, all was not lost, maybe he could make money with his new found gig. He found an agent who booked him at Halloween parties to get up on stage and say, "Treat or Trick," just as he opened his raincoat. 

Then he broadened his act to telling jokes that culminated with him opening his raincoat and yelling, "Treat or trick," even if it was the Fourth of July. Now a standup comedian, appropriately named The Flasher, he appeared on Leno, "Treat or trick," and Letterman, "Treat or trick," before getting his own situation comedy called, what else, The Flasher, "Treat or trick."

Now with fame and fortune, just be saying those three magic words, "Treat or Trick," his life would never be the same. His flashing life was ruined. Unable to flash women without them laughing at him, unable to get the reaction that he needed to masturbate, turning to drugs and alcohol, he went into rehab.

It was there that he met an unnamed celebrity and they lived happily ever after.