Homeland Security

"HOMELAND SECURITY - SOUTH AMERICAN STYLE!" 

A SHORT STORY OF FICTION BY CATMAN

 

 There was something about South America that really intrigued me.  The very little that I knew about the countries or the continent offered a vague fascination.  On a whim, just out of college, I took a

temporary job teaching English in Argentina.   I actually thought my two years of high school Spanish would suffice, until I arrived and realized the primary language was Portuguese.

Even thou it was beautiful, nothing about the country worked for me.  The rents on apartments were exorbitantly high, and the monetary exchange rate quickly exhausted my limited funds.

It was too much of a challenge for me and I decided to head back to the States.  I had arrived in South America with very little and was returning with the same.  All of my belongings were stuffed in one checked bag and my giant backpack as a carry-on.
 

I stood in the line at the airport to go through security.  I had my airline ticket, boarding pass and my passport in my hand when I was pulled out of the line.  The uniformed security man spoke English, and I understood that I had been selected to go through a secondary private screening. 

I had nothing to hide, so I really wasn't concerned about another search by the elderly "TSA Official".  He escorted me to a private little room where I waited several minutes until an examiner arrived.  He was about 30 years old and a relatively good looking man.

 

I was alone with him in the room while he meticulously examined the entire contents of my carry-on bag.  He smiled broadly when he found my stash of condoms and my cock ring.   I had a lot of time to study this guy whose name tag read "Carlos Garcia".  (He spoke fluent English but, He was originally from SPAIN, so he could understand some of my very lame Spanish!) 

He explained to me that there was an American male who fit my description that was reported to be smuggling drugs on his body.   I didn't have anything to hide, so I consented to a full-body strip search.

As I removed each article of clothing, he thoroughly examined it.  Finally, I stood naked in front of him.  It probably wasn't for security reasons that he slowly circled my body.  I couldn't help but notice that there was a tent forming in his uniform pants.

 

I'm one of those people who gets easily aroused and my dick started to grow till it was pointing at him.  I volunteered that I would be happy to consent to a "cavity search" just to put this security issue to rest.  

While he donned a thin latex plastic glove, I crawled up onto the single table in the room to expose my hole to him.  It wasn't easy without a lubricant, but he managed to work his index finger inside.  He probed around for about 20 seconds and started to pull out.

 

I stopped him and said, "Make sure you do a thorough job.  Maybe you should use two fingers."

Not only did he insert a second digit, but he reached between my legs to stroke my hard cock.  With him massaging my prostrate, it took just minutes until I shot off all over the table.

Apparently, he had gotten off too because when I climbed off of the table, I notices a big wet stain in the front of his uniform pants. 

I was allowed to dress again.  Just before being cleared to catch my plane, he said, "I apologize because we must have stopped the wrong guy.  I hope you had a good time in Argentina."

Ironically, the best time I had in his country was at the airport as I was leaving!