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.