Flasher Exposes More Than His Cock

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Halloween flasher cursed to say Treat or Trick.
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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-in-law, 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moment, the lewd and lascivious sexual assault that made him feel bad about what he did later to unsuspecting women, superseded whatever pleasure he received from flashing.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."

andtheend
andtheend
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