FLASHERS! Free Erotica Appetizers


What are flashers?

They are naughty little bits of stories with a maximum length of 200 words. Here at PiperTrace.com we don’t like terms like “maximum length”…or really any restrictions at all, right? But flashers are fun writing exercises, specifically made to evoke a mood, a feeling, all in a tiny bit of text.

Think of them as foreplay.



Coveting Her Heat, by Piper Trace         

Griffin watched her from the dark, wet alley as she bent her head and touched it to the blonde man’s shoulder in a gesture of intimacy, a low exclamation, a laugh. The yellow light pooling under the streetlamp highlighted the sensual curve of her mouth when she tilted her chin up toward the man, parting her lips in a smile. For him.

Griff wanted to be that man—to give her the pulse-quickening flush that warmed her skin as he watched from the gloom.

But he wanted her blood more.

And that’s why he’d never be that man, could never take her by the wrist, lead her boldly into the alley and take just the sex.

He’d never, as this man could, duck into the alleyway, drawing her giggling along behind him and shove her against the coarse wall, devouring her mouth, her neck, her breasts. He’d never hear her gasp at his daring, moan at his urgent need and spread her legs for him, welcoming first his fingers and then his thick cock.

He’d never fill her, his cock pumping ecstasy and life into her.

He could only empty her.

So instead he turned, disappearing back into his shadows.


Copyright Piper Trace 2010, all rights reserved. Not to be copied or reproduced without permission.


Moths to Flame, by Piper Trace

Sitting on a barstool next to Michelle was a lesson in Sun Tzu, honky-tonk style. She maneuvered, drew the men in for the kill and delighted at their defeats.

“It’s Jake!” She grabbed my arm, knocking my purse to the floor.

“I thought you weren’t interested?” She’d told me she’d fucked him in his truck last month, bouncing on his dick until the windows steamed, then never returned his calls.

“I heard he got back with his girlfriend.” She hopped off the stool and stalked toward him. Ten minutes later she was leading him out the door. I scowled.

A cowboy sidled up between my stool and Michelle’s.


“Hey yourself.”

“Where’s your friend?” My smile faltered behind the mouth of my beer. With no answer, he wandered away.

Michelle marched back in, lipstick missing from her smirking mouth.

“Where’s Jake?”

“Recovering.” She winked. “What now?”

“My place to watch a movie?”

“Serena, you’re such a fucking homebody! No wonder you never have a boyfriend.”

Before I could respond she looked past me, “Matt!”

Her long hair brushed my cheek as she swept by me to bounce in his direction, never knowing how eager I was to be her fool.


Copyright Piper Trace 2010, all rights reserved. Not to be copied or reproduced without permission.


When He Gets Home, by Piper Trace

**this flasher inspired a scene in Come When Called, though this flasher is a darker mood than that of the book**

I’m a bad girl.

That’s what Damon had told me when he shoved me tits-down across the back of his massive, mahogany desk, looping leather lashes around my wrists and slamming the ends in the heavy, top drawers, trapping me there.

I must remember my purpose.

He’d thundered those words at me when he spread my legs and bound my ankles to the desk legs, a fine spray of spittle chilling the back of my thigh when he hit the Ps hard in his anger.

The last time I’d angered him this much he hadn’t returned for an hour, and when he did, he’d brought a man I didn’t know. Damon spanked me while the groaning man pushed his cock into my mouth.

I’d sucked the man eagerly, as I was supposed to, and he’d seemed to enjoy all of it—even the small breaks I took to gasp and yelp at the punishment Damon gave my bottom. Maybe especially those moments.

Will he bring someone this time?

I hear the key in the lock – *CLICK!* – and every muscle in my body zings to attention. Eyes fixed over my bare shoulder, I watch the door swing open.


Copyright Piper Trace 2010, all rights reserved. Not to be copied or reproduced without permission.

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