This is a fully fictional story. It does not and does not attempt to reflect reality.
I travel a lot for business. Once a month at least, alone most of the time. And, being fairly well-endowed, of course that dreadful milimeter-wave scanner goes off on me every once in a while, showing that pesky red box over my crotch.
I am, however, usually too much in a hurry to care; I tell the agent to just do his patting and be over with it real quick. But then, my flights are usually on time.
Today is a different day. My last meeting finished early and, having already checked out of my hotel, I decided to simply go to the airport and enjoy a more relaxed trip back home, instead of the usually tense situation of being right on time.
It was mid-April, and the heat was bearable; wearing a suit and tie didn't really bother at that time. I was in the warmer side of comfortable: hot enough to not feel cold, but cold enough not to sweat too much.
Oh, there's something I didn't tell you. I simply love wearing pouch underwear. With tighter and lighter-colored clothes, the bulge is inevitable, and that bulge gives me a tremendous confidence boost. And having confidence is a requirement when you're a young executive.
So, there I was, at the airport security. Four hours until my flight was scheduled to depart. I'd spend some time at the lounge, eat something, and charge the entire thing to the corporate credit card; all I had to do was go through the usual motions. Well, guess what. I was relaxed, the temperature was fine, my shower cock was a bit engorged... The red box decided to appear.
There comes this security agent. Asked me if I wanted to be patted down there, or if I preferred to be taken to a private place. For some reason, I thought he was hot; not only physically attractive but with a commanding presence. I had nothing to do for a few hours. I felt daring. And asked for the private room.
He rolled his eyes and asked me to follow him. I took my hand luggage, already cleared by the X-ray machine, and my jacket and walked behind him. Five minutes and two restricted doors later, we were at the screening room. There was a rectangular table, a cabinet with some drawers, and two chairs, one in either side of the table. A ceiling panel lighted up the room. He locked the door.
I took off the jacket once again. My black shirt and light-grey pants stayed on, but he asked me to remove my shoes and socks, which I did. Then, I stood in the middle of the room.
He started patting me. First on the thighs, front and back. Then my butt, which got my adrenaline racing and started the flow of blood to my dick. Then on my lower back, and then my groin. He patted repeatedly, decidedly, and my already-engorged member felt it and became a little stiffer.
The agent stood up and looked me in the eye.
-- Sir, I'll need you to strip down to your underwear.
-- Is there anything wrong?
With a strong, even if not threatening, tone, he replied:
-- Please.
I paused for a second. I knew I had nothing on my body.
You know what? Fuck it.
I took off my shirt and the trousers. My bright blue pouch boxer-briefs stood out in the clinically-white room. He restarted by tapping my buttocks exactly where the underwear covers them. The blood continued to go down to my cock, halfway erect already. After doing my backside, he again patted my upper thighs, again where the underwear covers. My arousal was pretty obvious by then.
He moved towards my inner thighs, almost touching my dick but not quite. After patting very close more than once, he once again stood up. My heart began to pound right there. I must have flushed red by this point.
-- Sir, are you carrying drugs inside of your body?
-- No. Why do you suspect?
No answer. Another command.
-- Due to a security protocol, I'll need to conduct a full body cavity search. Please drop your underwear.
Holy fuck. Was he really suspicious of me, or he saw I was getting hard and just played along?
-- Do I have to?
-- No. But then I can arrest you.
I could just fuck around, but didn't want to find out. So, in a few seconds I was completely naked. His tone went edgier.
-- I'll use latex gloves and a water-based lubricant. Are you allergic to latex?
-- No.
-- Then bend over the table, with the legs open wide.
I bent, then separated my legs. Shit, I had lasered my entire body the week prior, my asshole would be in plain sight. And my half-hard dick was at full display, with my balls dangling down.
I heard him open a drawer, put the gloves on, then spread some lube on a hand. The other hand grabbed my left cheek and spread it further apart. I relaxed my sphincter and soon enough he inserted two fingers inside me.
Fuck me, that felt so good. My erection went full right there, and with me fully exposed there, a bit humiliated, but so fucking aroused, he surely could see it.
And then he started moving his fingers, poking around everywhere, searching who knows what. He was taking his time there, and his fingers filled me up... At one point, I swear he was even tugging my testicles slightly, brushing his hand against my shaft.
Hell. I started dribbling precum all over the floor. I could hear it splattering, a drip, a drop, once, twice, ten times. I apologized, even if I was enjoying it.
-- Sorry for that, I'm making such a mess here.
He replied in a friendly way.
-- Never mind, it's normal, just your body responding to stimulation.
After that, he was satisfied.
-- Okay, you may stand up once again and get dressed. Thank you for your cooperation and have a safe flight!
He unlocked the door and left the room. His black uniform wouldn't allow me to figure out if he sported a hard-on. But what the hell had just happened?
After I got home, almost eight hours later, there was only one way I could process that: I gave myself an epic jack-off session, and had one of the strongest orgasms of my life.
I travel a lot for business. Once a month at least, alone most of the time. And, being fairly well-endowed, of course that dreadful milimeter-wave scanner goes off on me every once in a while, showing that pesky red box over my crotch.
I am, however, usually too much in a hurry to care; I tell the agent to just do his patting and be over with it real quick. But then, my flights are usually on time.
Today is a different day. My last meeting finished early and, having already checked out of my hotel, I decided to simply go to the airport and enjoy a more relaxed trip back home, instead of the usually tense situation of being right on time.
It was mid-April, and the heat was bearable; wearing a suit and tie didn't really bother at that time. I was in the warmer side of comfortable: hot enough to not feel cold, but cold enough not to sweat too much.
Oh, there's something I didn't tell you. I simply love wearing pouch underwear. With tighter and lighter-colored clothes, the bulge is inevitable, and that bulge gives me a tremendous confidence boost. And having confidence is a requirement when you're a young executive.
So, there I was, at the airport security. Four hours until my flight was scheduled to depart. I'd spend some time at the lounge, eat something, and charge the entire thing to the corporate credit card; all I had to do was go through the usual motions. Well, guess what. I was relaxed, the temperature was fine, my shower cock was a bit engorged... The red box decided to appear.
There comes this security agent. Asked me if I wanted to be patted down there, or if I preferred to be taken to a private place. For some reason, I thought he was hot; not only physically attractive but with a commanding presence. I had nothing to do for a few hours. I felt daring. And asked for the private room.
He rolled his eyes and asked me to follow him. I took my hand luggage, already cleared by the X-ray machine, and my jacket and walked behind him. Five minutes and two restricted doors later, we were at the screening room. There was a rectangular table, a cabinet with some drawers, and two chairs, one in either side of the table. A ceiling panel lighted up the room. He locked the door.
I took off the jacket once again. My black shirt and light-grey pants stayed on, but he asked me to remove my shoes and socks, which I did. Then, I stood in the middle of the room.
He started patting me. First on the thighs, front and back. Then my butt, which got my adrenaline racing and started the flow of blood to my dick. Then on my lower back, and then my groin. He patted repeatedly, decidedly, and my already-engorged member felt it and became a little stiffer.
The agent stood up and looked me in the eye.
-- Sir, I'll need you to strip down to your underwear.
-- Is there anything wrong?
With a strong, even if not threatening, tone, he replied:
-- Please.
I paused for a second. I knew I had nothing on my body.
You know what? Fuck it.
I took off my shirt and the trousers. My bright blue pouch boxer-briefs stood out in the clinically-white room. He restarted by tapping my buttocks exactly where the underwear covers them. The blood continued to go down to my cock, halfway erect already. After doing my backside, he again patted my upper thighs, again where the underwear covers. My arousal was pretty obvious by then.
He moved towards my inner thighs, almost touching my dick but not quite. After patting very close more than once, he once again stood up. My heart began to pound right there. I must have flushed red by this point.
-- Sir, are you carrying drugs inside of your body?
-- No. Why do you suspect?
No answer. Another command.
-- Due to a security protocol, I'll need to conduct a full body cavity search. Please drop your underwear.
Holy fuck. Was he really suspicious of me, or he saw I was getting hard and just played along?
-- Do I have to?
-- No. But then I can arrest you.
I could just fuck around, but didn't want to find out. So, in a few seconds I was completely naked. His tone went edgier.
-- I'll use latex gloves and a water-based lubricant. Are you allergic to latex?
-- No.
-- Then bend over the table, with the legs open wide.
I bent, then separated my legs. Shit, I had lasered my entire body the week prior, my asshole would be in plain sight. And my half-hard dick was at full display, with my balls dangling down.
I heard him open a drawer, put the gloves on, then spread some lube on a hand. The other hand grabbed my left cheek and spread it further apart. I relaxed my sphincter and soon enough he inserted two fingers inside me.
Fuck me, that felt so good. My erection went full right there, and with me fully exposed there, a bit humiliated, but so fucking aroused, he surely could see it.
And then he started moving his fingers, poking around everywhere, searching who knows what. He was taking his time there, and his fingers filled me up... At one point, I swear he was even tugging my testicles slightly, brushing his hand against my shaft.
Hell. I started dribbling precum all over the floor. I could hear it splattering, a drip, a drop, once, twice, ten times. I apologized, even if I was enjoying it.
-- Sorry for that, I'm making such a mess here.
He replied in a friendly way.
-- Never mind, it's normal, just your body responding to stimulation.
After that, he was satisfied.
-- Okay, you may stand up once again and get dressed. Thank you for your cooperation and have a safe flight!
He unlocked the door and left the room. His black uniform wouldn't allow me to figure out if he sported a hard-on. But what the hell had just happened?
After I got home, almost eight hours later, there was only one way I could process that: I gave myself an epic jack-off session, and had one of the strongest orgasms of my life.
