Jack had dressed for the occasion, wearing high black stockings and an old, belted raincoat, sturdy shoes, a widebrimmed hat, and nothing else. The stockings came up to the hem of the raincoat so that, with the coat closed, he appeared to be fully dressed. Yet with a quick movement, in a flash, as it were, he could throw open the coat and expose his big cock and balls. He had practiced in front of the mirror, the same mirror, in fact, before which his wife had practiced flashing her pussy a bit later. Throwing the raincoat open, he had thrust his naked loins out and grinned at his own performance. Jack was no ordinary, limp-cocked flasher. The very thought of exposing his prick to a girl gave him a hard-on, thereby giving him a hell of a lot more to expose.

Then, because he was just as keen on playing Peeping Tom as he was on showing his cock, the enthusiastic fellow had gone to the local lovers' lane. Jack believed in an eye for an eye, or more precisely, an eyeful for an eyeful.

With his prick already rock hard, Jack lurked in the shadows of a tree, waiting hopefully for some young lovers to arrive. ›From time to time he slipped his hand inside his raincoat and gave his prick a stroke or two, just to make sure it stayed nice and stiff. He made no attempt to jerk off, however. Later, after he had flashed his prick to some sexy girl, he might beat his meat, or he might lug his hard-on home to his voluptuous wife, depending on how the occasion developed. If the girl showed any interest, he might even jerk off while she watched. Or if he struck it lucky and got a juicier performance to observe, he might pump his cum-load out during that performance. Jack was versatile in such matters.

But tonight he was in for a special treat.

Jack had just slipped his hand in and tested his hard-on for tension when the headlights of a car came flashing through the trees. He grinned in anticipation, pulled his prick up, tilted his hat lower on his brow and waited.