Flashed and Owned: A Public Encounter with a Stranger
I was feeling wicked the moment I stepped out in that silk wrap dress. No bra. No panties. Just skin, scent, and intent.
It clung in all the right places and opened with a breeze. The kind of dress that dares you to misbehave — and I always oblige.
I strutted into the café like I owned it, heels clicking, wrap tied just loose enough to threaten scandal. That’s when I saw him. Not someone I knew — just a stranger. Alone, distracted, sipping his coffee. He looked… bored. I hate bored.
So I slid into the seat across from him like we were meeting on purpose. “You’re late,” I purred, lips curving into something between a smirk and a dare.
He blinked. “I’m sorry do I know you?”
“No,” I whispered, tugging my dress to the side just enough for him to see I wasn’t wearing anything under it. “But you do now.”
His pupils blew wide. I watched the color rise in his cheeks. I leaned forward, the hem parting more, until I knew he could see the curve of my inner thigh. Still, I never touched him. I only touched myself mentally.
🔐 A Little Secret Just for You…
You found it. Whisper “Stranger Peek” when you call me at The Sin Center and I’ll reward you with 5 minutes free on our first naughty call.
The thrill was in the risk. In the heat of being seen. In the wet tension between crossing the line and teasing it until it snapped.
“Don’t say a word,” I told him as I stood, letting the fabric flutter. “But do follow me.”
He did.
And when I turned the corner, I let the dress fall open completely just for him. Just for a moment. A stranger now branded by the image of me, ruined by a single act of public sin.
Tell me, lover… Would you have followed?