February 21, 2003

The following is an excerpt from the February 21, 2003 issue of Cosmopolitan magazine, "Cosmo Confessions" section.

the wand

I had read about all the amazing encounters in "Cosmo" for years.   I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me, but when it did recently, it opened me up to a whole new world of sensuality.

He was tall, blonde, and ruggedly handsome, and though it was clear he was a gentleman, there was a roguish twinkle in his eyes.  The first thing he said to me was," Please, why don't you slip off your coat?"  As  he graciously my wrap off my shoulders, I couldn't help noticing the appreciative glance he gave me as he eyed my figure.   As a former swimsuit model, I am used to getting ogled by strangers, but there was something special about the way his eyes caressed me as if we were alone despite the crowd of people milling around us. 

"Please sit down," he said next.  Given the circumstances, I couldn't resist this confident, commanding stranger.  However, as I sat on the plastic chair, I must confess I was surprised when he then knelt before me, looked me in the eye, and said brazenly, "Please take off your shoes."  As I slipped off my strappy little Manolo Blahniks, he pulled on a pair of  clear rubber gloves and took the shoes into his powerful, probing hands.

"Want me to run those through the x-ray scanner," his assistant called out over his shoulder.  "No way, Jimmy, I want to check these out myself," he said as he waved his fresh faced, young partner away and gave me a lascivious wink.  It  was then that I looked down from those bold blue eyes of the deepest azure and saw that the nametag on his crisply pressed, black, airport security guard uniform read "Rutger."  As he eagerly grasped the rigid twelve inches of his rock hard metal detector wand, I knew this would be no ordinary security screening session for Rutger and I.

I had booked the flight to Dallas as a weekend getaway to hang out with my old college roommate Suzy so I could cry on her shoulder about my broken engagement.  I was still down in the dumps, but I knew our breakup was all for the best.  Steve was kind and caring, but he was always too busy working for the ACLU and fighting for civil rights in his storefront office in downtown Washington DC to pay enough attention to me or to satisfy me sexually.  Who knew that my trip to commiserate with a friend would turn into a highly charged voyage of erotic self-discovery?

After Rutger placed the bowl holding my shoes on the conveyor belt for the x-ray machine, he approached me and asked me to stand.  As I rose, he said, "Spread your legs and stand with your feet apart.  I'm going to wand you."  There was a combination of smoldering passion and brutal, amoral authority in his voice that had me standing up in my stocking feet in a flash.  Every nerve in my body was alive and tingling with sensual anticipation as I stood before him feeling like naughty little school girl in the principal's office.

I could feel his hot breath on my neck as that big, black wand worked its way over my torso.  A piercing beep told me I had "done wrong."  He looked at me sternly, his wand poised over the plunging neckline of my silk blouse.  "Any metal?" he asked with his lips parted as  he breathed heavily through his open mouth.  "Just this," I answered as I slipped off my underwire bra, pulled it out through my sleeve, and shot it playfully into the bin with all my other personal effects that had been confiscated.  I tossed my hair back and shook my boson at him lustfully, my large, natural breasts set free from their silky bonds, but Rutger's interests had already turned elsewhere.  As the wand headed south over my hips it let out another series of beeps, and I felt myself growing moist with desire.  "Any metal here?" he asked again, the thick, hard wand flicking snake-like over my pulsing, hot nexus of pleasure.  I reached down, pulled up my leather miniskirt, and unsnapped the metal clips on my garter belt then I tossed aside with the rest.

"Now turn around, spread your legs apart, and place your hands on the wall." I could here the mix of steely domination and unbridled passion in his voice.  As I turned and arched my back suggestively, I put my palms on the wall for support.  I needed it.  My legs went weak as a series of small explosions wracked my body, and I bit my lip to muffle my feral cries of passion as my stockings slid down my thighs and Rutger wanded me from behind again and again and again.

I could barely stifle my moans of pulsating pleasure as he called over his supervisor and they took turns rifling through my purse and fondling the lacy garter belts and thongs in my carry on bag.  "Search it all, you brutes!  You handsome, dirty brutes!" I gasped under my breath. 

Moments later in the Ladies Room I struggled to regain my composure, put my underthings back on, and somehow make it to my gate on time to catch my plane.  I barely made it, but what I story I now had to tell to Suzy.

I think all those small minded people who complain about the intrusive, disgraceful, heavy-handed police states that our airports have become should take a good long look in the mirror.  Maybe -  like me -  they just need to opened up sexually like I was by Rutger.  Normally, I would be the first to speak out against an evil, totalitarian, crypto-fascist  government that seems bent on destroying the freedom, civil rights, and privacy of its citizens, but when the sex is this good, who cares?

                                                                       -Frequent Flyer, 26