Flashers by Chris Bridges

Workplace Decorum © 2005

Her naked breast thrust from my e-mail, to my surprise. Fortunately my cubicle is in the corner.

Gotta love cell phone cameras, she messaged gleefully.

Hell, yeah, I replied. More?

She took the challenge and for the next fifteen minutes she contrived to expose, photograph, and e-mail me her body a piece at a time. My montage grew.

Just one more! she messaged.

The last was her trimmed pussy, but between her legs I could see her boss coming in her office door. She didn’t answer my messages again.

Either she’s fired, or she’s getting a hell of a raise.

* * * * *

Gloom Service © 2004

Margie hated February 15th.

Bad enough she didn’t have her own valentine, but she had to clean up after the ones that did and that was torture.

The sheets in 206 were covered in baby oil.Flower petals and torn lingerie clogged up the tub in 210. 211’s headboard was actually dented, for God’s sake.

Grumbling, she pushed into 212 and found another depressed soul.Alone, sitting on the bed, still in a tuxedo, he was staring at an unopened box of chocolates and looking handsome and vulnerable.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” Margie whispered, and she closed the door.

* * * * *

Pavlov Me Tender © 2004

For a woman with an obnoxious husband, Jenn looked more relaxed than Marcy had ever seen her.

“Nick’s much calmer now,” she said. “For over a month, whenever he fell asleep I’d ring a bell and then blow him.”

“What good does that do?” asked Marcy.


The door opened and Nick strode in, frowning and grumpy. “Dammit, woman, haven’t I told you-”

She rang a tiny bell and suddenly Nick’s pants bulged. Instantly he convulsed once, twice, and a wet stain spread across the front. “Gah! I… um… you…” He ran upstairs, awkwardly.

Jenn smiled. “Nick’s much calmer now.”

* * * * *

Trading Spaces © 2003

“Hey, George.”

“Matt! What’s up?”

“Got a favor to ask you.Kinda personal.”

“Anything, buddy.Shoot.”

“You think me and Miriam could borrow your house this weekend?”

“Borrow my…”

“Yeah.See, we were trying to find a new place to, you know, and we’ve used every spot in our own house.”

“Every single-”

“Frankly, we were eyeing your backporch swing.”

“What about your kid’s swingset?”

“Been there.”

“The piano?”

“First day we moved in.”


“Second day.Look, it’s okay if it’s too weird for you.”

“No, I was just impressed.Sure.Say, Matt?”


“Can we borrow the swingset?”

* * * * *

Dying With Anticipation © 2003

She promised me my greatest fantasy, and now I wait, trembling, eager.

Will she tie me up?

Will she abuse me; force me to do her desires?

Will she be a teacher, babysitter, boss, cop?

Wait! I don’t know how, but she’s discovered my most secret wish! Her sister! Oh, most perfect wife, sharing your luscious younger sister! I love you my darling!

The bathroom door opens, I cry out, “Yes! Let me fuck your sister now!”

My wife stands there wearing a blonde wig and a startled expression that’s rapidly sinking into fury.

I think maybe I guessed wrong….

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