- or flashing, as we used to call it back in the days when fun was allowed.
- But not any more: drivers actually complained about this

I had wives and girlfriends who adored flashing. It made them unbelievably wet and horny, and it had a similar effect on most of the men lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the holy grail. Some got more than a good look, and ended up with a good fuck.
None of them complained when they were showing off their knickers, mostly because they didn’t want it to stop, and absolutely none of them called the police. It was flashing back then, not indecent exposure.
I had a wife who was better at it than the others, mostly because she enjoyed it more than all the others, and also because she had nerves of steel. She would flash her knickers anywhere. The more public and crowded it was, or the more unlikely the location, the more she liked doing it, and the wetter she got.
Standing in a crowded bar, you only had to say ‘show me your knickers’ and she’d lift her skirt and do a twirl. Always. She flashed on trains, planes and automobiles. She’d sit opposite a guy on a commuter train and visibly dribble into her knickers for half an hour while he covered himself with a newspaper and tried to hide the effect she was having. She did it in bars and cafes, restaurants and of course nightclubs, where being half-naked was expected of a girl, so she had to go further than usual and further than all the rest. This is a girl who sat in a London nightclub with her legs apart and her knickers in her handbag, fingering herself vigorously, while disbelieving guys gawped. ‘I want everyone to see what I’ve got,’ she said.
I think that worked.
We never stood on a motorway bridge but we did commute up and down the M1 every weekday for about five years, me driving and her with her skirt up, stockings and suspenders on show and of course her knickers on the dashboard, so lorry drivers in particular got a great view of her pussy while she played with it. My expertise was getting the car positioned just right, and matching speed with the lorry beside us.
It was her idea to fuck herself with the carphone. Good job it was long and thin, and on a long piece of curly wire, or we might never have got it back.
I suppose it’s no wonder she ended up fucking half the men at work. She arrived every day in a state of maximum arousal, and all that sexual energy had to go somewhere. Shame she didn’t tell me though; she knew I wouldn’t have minded and then it wouldn’t have been just one more of the dirty secrets that led to divorce.
Honesty is always the best policy, even if you’re fucking all your husband’s friends.
Yes, she did.
Here’s a link to her story:
As ever, here’s a link to the full newpaper story:
https://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/midlands-news/onlyfans-star-flashes-drivers-motorway-23966909