Gents

It's a New Year, time for untold promises to change your life. Resolutions that will never be kept, I think to myself as I pound the tarmac heading towards my local park. Why am I doing this?

I’m dressed in tight fitting sports leggings and a fleece top, sports bra underneath to take the strain of my 36FF cup boobs, no thong or panties to slice into my arse as I intend to power walk my way for a couple of miles.

I head into the clearing. My white Reebok training shoes are instantly splattered with good old English countryside mud. Great! Now I have to wash them.

I feel a little stupid as I stroll along the empty dirt track, a little apprehensive at the fact of being a female alone. I reach for my bag, not for a protective spray or personal alarm but for my disc Walkman. I press the play button and music fills my ears, not too loud because I don't want to be startled by a mountain bike or horse rider.

I see a bench up ahead and decide to monitor my progress bench by bench. They must be strategically placed around the woodland? I decide I will make that my goal. Each walk I will time myself. Not only for the length of walk but the speed in which I achieve it.

Suddenly I see a figure in the distance. At first my heart pounds in my chest. Is it good to see someone else? Or would I feel safer alone? I notice he is sat reading a newspaper, mobile phone in the other hand. Probably escaping the office, I think to myself.

As I turn the bend and begin heading towards him, he stands and makes to leave. For some unknown reason I feel relieved. I continue to head in the same direction. My CD sticks. Damn it! I must have a finger print on it. I stop to try solve the problem.

I become aware of a rustling sound behind the trees. As I look down I see a pair of shoes. Fear grips my vocal cords. I do not scream but I do look up wondering why someone would be standing there. It does not register at first but this man in a raincoat standing in the bushes is probably the one from before.

My eyes travel from his feet up. He has his flies undone and his cock is on view. I scan the image of him, his manhood in his hand. It is not stuck up fully erect but semi-erect, in his hand. He does not appear to be stroking it - just exposing himself.

To my surprise I do not react but continue to walk, maybe a little faster than before. But I cannot get the image out of my head of his bell end in his hand.

Unconsciously I detect dampness in my trousers. No way! I can't be turned on by a flasher, can I? I walk faster, heading to the light up ahead. I know there are toilets there and I can go pee and wipe my dripping pussy. I as enter the light I realise that the ladies toilets are out of order. A padlock and chain make them inaccessible.

I walk around the block to the other side to check whether the gents are out of action too. The light is on and I listen at the doorway. No sound. Dare I risk it? I realise I actually need to pee. No choice. I go inside. I sneak down the corridor leading to the urinals. No-one there. I step closer to the cubicles. No one there either.

I close the door and lock it. Listening all the time I drop my trousers ready to piss. But there is no way am I going to sit on the seat! I as squat, my pussy lips poised over the bowl, I notice there is no toilet seat present to piss on. As I stand, slightly bent over, I notice a gaping hole in the brickwork about two inches in diameter.

Curiosity gets the better of me. This hole looks purpose made. I lower my head to eye level. Just as I begin to squint through I hear footsteps. The sound is of proper shoes on the tiles. No squeak of trainers. I'm frozen to the spot. My mind tells me to sit quick and put my feet up and hide. Before my brain has time to tell my limbs to move I hear the noise.

It’s the sound of a zip being pulled down. I hear him say, "Look at it!" I swivel my head and body. My eyes focus on the reddest, most bulbous cock head I have ever seen. I gasp and the sound echoes in the tiled room. Through the hole I see the tan Macintosh briefly. I know it's him! The flasher. I am transfixed to the spot. He proceeds to push and then withdraw his cock through the hole.

The anonymity excites me. I feel myself reaching for my pussy, finding my already wet folds. I wriggle some fingers inside myself as he rocks his hips and slides his cock through his fingers. He pushes through a few inches then retracts ‘til only the head shows. I can see precum on his cock and I watch fascinated.

Unintentionally I am holding my breath. It's not until my thumb catches my clit that I exhale in a long gasp. He hears me and I hear him groan. His hand is working faster and faster. Mine too. Oh my god! My senses are heightened. I smell the dank acrid aroma of a public toilet but it is too late. I have brought myself too close to climax to stop now.

My cum trickles down my fingers and wells up in my upturned palm. I am spasming uncontrollably. But my eyes never leave the cock thrusting through the hole in the wall. Just seconds later it is forced fully through the gap, skin tight and veins bulging. The head is almost purple. I forget to take a step backwards. He is coming! He splatters me with hot jets of semen. A gift from an unknown man. It is hot and thick and sticks to my legs slowly running down my skin like slime.

I hear him running away and I am left alone to clean up. The cheap toilet paper hardly soaks up his cum. It seems to smear it into my skin and my clothes. I lean on the wall and compose myself before peeping my head around the door. I leave quickly and continue my exercise.

I wonder to myself whether I will return.