Gay Porn Embarrassment

I was particularly nervous since I hadn’t flown in a while, and not for the reason you are probably thinking, I didn’t think the plane was going down, and I certainly am not one to fuss over a little turbulence, actually I loved flying.

Airports, Starbucks, SkyMall Magazine hot businessmen… fuck, it was like heaven to me.

The impetus behind my neurosis was actually coming from inside of my large leather Coach Bag.

And no, this is not an expose about terrorism or someone who wanted to bring in a weapon, but rather it was my dildo and cock rings. You know, it’s essential for gay relationships.

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I had never flown or gone through security for that matter with my gay sex toys before, so I was hoping the woman behind the TSA x-ray machine would see the toys and figure, ‘this homosexual is clearly a bottom trying to be versatile,’ and send me on my merry way.

It must have been karma, but my bag was put in what I like to call the smugglers line, with bags of elderly women bringing on the ‘bulk size’ curl shampoo, and the bags of foreign men of whom are ‘NOT BEING PROFILED’ (or so any TSA agent would say.)

A large African American woman fiddled through the bag in front of mine and true to form it belongs to an 86 year old woman who was bringing a 32 oz. container of lotion.

After much protest confusion and appealing the elderly woman gave up and bid au revior to the jumbo lotion. A cooperative American supporting the TSA system and ultimately the protection of America.

I wish she didn’t though, I wish she made some sort of diversion that would have inspired the TSA agents or officers or whatever-you-call-them simply say,

“Here little gay boy, I am sure your issue is of less importance than this elderly woman’s, go enjoy the flight and don’t use the large penis shaped object as a means of hijacking a plane.”

In which I would have responded,

“Thanks Rashanda, have a fabulous day!” After which I would skip off into the distance.

But no, life doesn’t work out the way I want it to, the story of my (dating, exercising, and family) life.

Instead, she went over to the smugglers line, took my beautiful brown ‘non-terrorist looking’ bag and unzipped it.

I began my defense, ‘I have a feeling I know why this is over here.’

Rashanda looked at me, then looked at the x-ray image of my bag which mainly consisted of buttons, bare minerals powder, and a digital camera, but true to my packing, toward the left of the bag, wrapped in a shirt is my dildo.

She smiled and said, ‘No need to worry, this happens more times than not. However it is a policy that I scan check and test this dildo.’

For a second I thought by test she meant to give it a ride, but since that thought literally horrified me and would render my dildo unusable like that of an American Flag dropped on a wet muddy ground. It would most certainly require a fire-induced retirement to dildo heaven.

She instead unwrapped it, and it was most certainly sanitized and even in its plastic container of which read, ‘Big-Boy Mega Cock.’

I was mortified, the kind of mortified that brought me back to the sixth grade gym class. That kind of embarrassment that comes with being the only homosexual in the Christian Private School community showers.

This dildo however had two inches on my unwanted erection, weighing in at a nice 8.5 inches: veiny and black.

The dick was not necessarily my favorite, however it was the one I typically bring on road trips, and in emergency situations. It was a heavy-duty dick.

I decided since my favorite was a vibrator, the wires, remotes and batteries would most certainly ensure being placed in the smuggler lane, and even possibly that backroom that you see in movies, and the occasional gay porn.

I stuttered trying to justify my ‘plus one’ or ‘plus eight point five inch.’

Rashanda first took it from its packaging after I ensured her that it had been thoroughly cleaned and is rather new, and even that it was washed in a dishwasher.

She then held the glorious and bountiful penis in her hands at breast height, just high enough for the family that anteceded me to see exactly why I was a suspected danger.

I smiled as they passed by me; the mother’s cross necklace steaming with anger and hatred.

Read related article: Why Extra Large Dildos Rule

I finally said, ‘If I had known it would have been so much trouble…’

She then responded with an answer that will probably stay with me, in my heart for the rest of my life:

She looked me square in the eyes, and assured me, ‘Honey’ and inhaling sharply, finished, ‘I get it, I’m with you all the way. I understand gay rights and that sometimes you can’t leave the home without it.’

I smiled at her, unaware of the punch line that was yet to come…

‘Tylenol doesn’t cure everything, certain things need a heftier solution.”

God Bless TSA.

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