Erotic fiction
Anything to Declare?
Have you ever wondered about those unfortunates that get pulled out of line?
It was the cheeky little wink that did it. I knew, as I saw the young customs agent standing behind her desk at Heathrow airport, scanning the passengers as we came through the terminal, that it was a bad idea, but what the hell.
“Step over here ma’am,” she said. “Please place your case on the counter and then step back to the line so that I can make an inspection.”
I, of course, did as requested and let her unzip my bag and have a good old rummage around. I could see when she discovered my toys from the look on her face, but there was nothing unlawful in there. She refastened it and was about to say that I was clear when she saw the grin on my face — and a second wink.
“Miss Statton,” she called out to a nearby colleague, “I think this passenger may be a good candidate for the random spot check.” She lowered her voice, but I could still hear her. “There is something not quite right here.”
The second agent, an older lady, nodded, and I was told to accompany them to a small room just behind the desk. As I did so, with one of them bringing my case, I could see the faces of the other departing passengers walking by. They had a mix of relief that they were getting through without hassle, and amusement at my plight.
“This will just be a routine strip search,” the younger lady said as the other stood with her back to the door. “If you are carrying any contraband then this would be the time to say so and save yourself some embarrassment.”
I remained silent, and so she went on.
“The camera on the ceiling does work and records events transpiring so that there can be no issues over what happens here. If nothing is found during the strip search, then the tape is immediately wiped, so you should have no worries in that regard. You can refuse a search, of course, but then we would turn you over to the local police to take things further.”
As that would clearly involve much greater hassle, I declined and, when requested, removed my jacket and handed it over to her. She carefully went through the pockets, putting each item onto a plastic tray on the table. She then checked around the lining as well. She was thorough and if I had been carrying anything in there then I knew that she would have found it.
My t-shirt followed, and then I was asked for my jeans. That required me to take off my shoes, so I passed them over as I complied with her orders. I had no socks on, so that left me in just my bra and panties. I gave a slow spin so that she could see me all the way around.
“See, nothing there. Shall we call it a day, dear?”
It was that ‘dear’ that did it, along with the accompanying smile, no doubt. She flushed, and then told me that a strip search meant all the way.
“Your bra, please. And then your panties.”
She ran her fingers around the under-wiring of the bra. Taking my panties from my outstretched hand she reddened as she realised that the gusset, what there was of it, was soaking wet. She raised them slightly closer to her face and gave a small sniff, but there was really no need. I could easily smell what she could.
I’d been leaking like a sieve. My pussy was so damn wet, and those panties in her hand were soaked through. I could smell my own sweet and tangy odour coming off my body, and she shouldn’t have needed to check where it was coming from.
“Please place your hands on the desk and lean forwards for a cavity search,” said the other agent, and I could see the first hesitate.
I couldn’t blame her, but she acted professionally and snapped on a pair of thin blue disposable gloves, adding some lubricant from a bottle as I complied.
Her hand ran over the bottom of my hairless pussy lips, but the fingers didn’t enter smoothly, even though I was more than lubed up already. Those extra touches around my opening were like heaven, and I moaned loudly as she entered.
“She’s backing up and trying to hump me!” She only searched for a few moments more before pulling out. “It’s like the bitch is in heat or something,” she said with a whine in her voice.
The other remained impassive and told her to continue, while addressing the lady more professionally, with the other cavity. She came over herself and pulled my arms across the cold metal table so that I was held tightly in place by my wrists, boobs now squashed flat against the tabletop.
The younger one pushed against me with her hips to keep me pinned in place, and avoid my pushing back into her, and then entered my bum with one of her lubed-up gloved fingers.
Naked, and grinding my clit on the edge of the table while pinned down by the older lady, with the cute young one shoving a digit inside and moving in search of who knew what… I came. I couldn’t help it, and didn’t want to anyway.
“Fuck! Oh, FUCK, yes!” I screamed as the orgasm hit. “Right there, push there, OM bloody G, you got it, honey!”
There was a thunk as the hastily ripped-off gloves hit the bin, and then the door slammed behind the young agent as she stormed out, muttering in disgust.
Still breathing deeply, I looked up into the eyes of the woman who was standing holding my wrists.
“Maybe see you next month, Sharon?” I said with a smile and another cheeky wink.
I write stories about my life, including nude ‘dares’ and similar stupidities, and also write articles about writing and stories of sex, so please look at my profile for other things!
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