The Flasher Cometh: Remembering My First Encounter

 The Flasher Cometh: Exhibitionists and Elevators

Hello, naughty ones. It recently dawned on me: you never know when or where temptation will strike. Maybe it happens in a dark alleyway, a corner of a parking lot, or even a crowded subway. Or maybe you’re strolling through the park, lost in thought when the flasher cometh. And many times, you only get a glimpse so you can’t be sure of what you saw. But there are anomalies.

I’ve always had a thing for exhibitionists, especially bold ones.

There’s something intoxicating about the idea of being watched and the flasher cometh situations. I find the risk, the rush, and the undeniable eroticism of a body revealed in the most inappropriate of places to be hot.

I remember my first “the flasher cometh” encounter. The city was buzzing with its usual midday energy, and I was waiting at a crosswalk when I noticed him. Tall, dark coat, hands tucked in the pockets. He looked so casual, like he was just another passerby. But there was a tension in his stance, a quiet excitement.

When the light changed and I started walking, he did too—falling into step beside me. For a moment, I thought it was just a coincidence, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. The coat parted, just enough for me to see he wasn’t wearing a thing underneath.

Was I shocked when the flasher cometh?

Maybe I should have been offended. But instead, my pulse spiked in the most delicious way. He was daring me to look. Daring me to acknowledge what he was doing. And I did.

I let my eyes linger for just a second too long, lips curving into a wicked little smile. He must have seen it, because his grip on the coat tightened, pulling it open just a little wider to reveal his hard cock.

Now, I’m no stranger to the thrill of playing in public. I’m all for a little unexpected afternoon delight. That said, there was something about the boldness of it – the sheer confidence, the hunger behind his eyes – that made me wonder if that was a silent invitation to reach out and touch him.

I would never find out because that particular “the flasher cometh” incident ended just as quickly as it started. He snapped his coat shut, gave me one last smirk, and disappeared into the crowd. But that wasn’t the case with a former colleague.

The flasher cometh – literally

He worked in finance, if I’m not mistaken. We’d only passed each other in the hallway a few times. And he always kept it professional. But there was a heat in his stare that told me he wanted more. So when we ended up alone in the elevator one afternoon, that energy boiled over.

There were no words, just a very bold move on his part. He unzipped his pants and revealed a rock-hard cock. And just like that first flasher, he was daring me to look. But this time around, I was ready and willing to do more than just look.

I stepped closer, wrapped my hand around his cock, and stroked it. Slow. Firm. Dirty. My fingers curled around his thick shaft, and I leaned toward him and whispered in his ear:

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me,” I teased, enjoying my “the flasher cometh” fun. “And I bet you’ve been jacking off to me in that office of yours, haven’t you?”

His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to answer my question.

My hand didn’t stop. The elevator climbed floors three, four, and five. He was trying so hard to stay quiet, to keep it together, but his hips betrayed him. Those little thrusts in my fist grew wilder.

Just before floor six, I squeezed tighter, picked up the pace, and he lost it. Yep, the flasher cometh. He cried out as his cock pulsed in my hand and jets of cum erupted from it. Then the elevator dinged. And I straightened my blazer, smoothed my skirt, and walked out like it was just another day.

“See you around,” I purred over my shoulder.

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