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My godson and I were returning to Laredo after a weekend in Nuevo Leon, Mexico. Cheap booze, cheap steaks, probably the best part of my weekend was when I hired a senorita to show Devin a good time!

You see, Devin, had just turned 18 and had been accepted in the University of Texas so he wanted to party with his favorite gay “uncle” one last time before school started. I had taken care of Devin since his momma had lost her husband. Technically, I was his godfather, not uncle, but it didn’t matter – me and the boy were close.

From the painfully shy wispy kid who could not utter more than a “Hello,” Devin had grown into a handsome young man, 6′ 2″. He swam, he played tennis, he had become a Texan hero in high school, acing school, lettering on the tennis team.

As our car inched closer to the border crossing, I had our passports ready. Finally, it was our turn to go ahead to the booth. The border guard took the passports and looked at us.

“How do you two know each other?” the guard asked.

“He’s my godson.” I said proudly.

“So,” the guard continued, “How long has he known you?” he directed that question to Devin.

Devin was nervous. “Um, how long? For years!”

“Don’t you mean, all your life?” the guard pressed.

“Yes,” Devin nodded, “Yes, all my life.”

The guard went back to his booth. A moment later, he emerged and asked me, “Bringing anything back to the States?”

“Two bottles of Kahlua.” I said.

“And you?” He looked at Devin.

“Um, nothing.” I noticed how Devin was sweating. He was obviously nervous.

The guard retreated to his booth. When he came back out he pointed over to the side, “Sir, take your car over there and prepare to be inspected.”

Shit, I thought. What a pain. But when I looked at Devin, he was dripping with sweat.

“Uncle, I brought back some weed.”

“You WHAT?”

“It’s hidden. I think we’re good.”

I was moving the car over to the inspection area. “Just give it to me. Devin, you can’t get in shit! You’re 18, you’re an adult! You’ll poker oyna screw up school!”

“I know! I know!” Devin whined. “I’ll be fine. They won’t find it.”

At the inspection area, 2 guards came out. 1 signalled for us to get out of the car. The other began opening the doors and the trunk.

“Sir,” a guard said to me, “Will you and your son go inside?”

“He’s not my dad,” Devin blurted.

“Oh really?”

“He’s my godfather,” Devin explained, but the guard was already making a note in his pad.

We walked into the air conditioned room while the guards began taking everything out of the car.

“Sir,” a guard said to Devin. “You have a choice – you can either walk through the full body scanner or choose to be manually pat down.”

Devin looked panick-stricken. He looked at me. He looked back at the guard. I knew he was hiding something on him when he fatefully said, “Pat down please.”

“Okay then.” One guard pointed to me. “Sir, you have the right to stay and observe.”

“Um, yes,” I nodded, “I’ll stay.”

The two guards with us pointed to a stainless steel table. “Sir?” They directed Devin to the table, “Please put your hands on the table and spread your legs.”

One guard snapped on a pair of surgical gloves and began patting Devin down. “Big boy like you? Play football?”

“No,” Devin licked his lips – he was hoarse. “Basketball, tennis.”

“Athlete! Good thing.” The guard then reached under Devin’s armpits. “You sure are sweating up a storm. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just hot.” Devin said.

“Alright,” the guard pointed to his Converse sneakers. “Please remove your shoes and socks.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you!” The guard’s voice had lost any friendliness.

Devin kicked off his shoes and sock and leaned back at the table. The guard asked Devin to put back one foot at a time and looked between his toes.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked.

“Yes sir! You’d be surprised where people hide things.”

After his toes were inspected, Devin reached for his shoes canlı poker oyna when the guard barked, “Not so fast – please undress.”

Devin gulped, “What the hell? You already patted me down.”

“NO sir, we are not finished. You asked for a manual pat down instead of the scanner. You are getting a manual pat down.”

I spoke up, “This is not a pat down, this is a strip search!”

“Yes, sir. That’s what they used to call it. Please stand back and let us finish.”

Shit, I thought. But I couldn’t help but get a tingle of excitement as I watched my godson strip. Golden hairs on his arms were glistening with sweat. His hairy legs were also gold from the Mexican weekend. His light brown hair was getting shaggy. He was muscled with a light trail of brown/blonde hair from his belly button down, but in all modesty, he cupped himself with his hands.

“SIR! Bend over and hold the table!” Devin did so, and I could see his balls between his legs. The guard then began to feel Devin up – from his armpits down to his perky bubble butt. He spread the boy’s cheeks and used a gloved finger to touch around his anus. Then he pat the boy’s thighs and calves down for no apparent reason.

“Turn around, SIR!” The guard commanded. Devin turned to face us, his hands back to cupping his privates. “Please move your hands away, SIR!”

For a split second, Devin glanced at me. Then he closed his eyes and moved his hands away. Whoa, nothing to be ashamed of there! My godson’s cock was thick and at least 6″ soft and uncut. He had shaved his pubes so his genitals looked big and pink. The guard gently reached under his balls and pushed them upward. He pushed Devin’s shaft to the left and right.

“Wait one second,” the guard commanded. Devin quickly cupped back his junk. The guard then walked outside and talked to his supervisor. When he returned, he looked irritated. “Look, kid, we know you’re hiding something. Tell us where it is and you’ll only be charged with possession. A misdemeanor. Lie to us, and you’ll be charged with obstruction, perjury, more! Felony internet casino charges!”

Devin shook his head. He was so handsome, standing there naked and covering his privates, protesting his innocence.

“Okay, have it your way,” the guard said. “Put your hands back on the table. There’s only one other place you could be hiding, and I’ll find it.”

He walked back over to Devin, “Spread your legs.” Devin dutifully did. “Put your head down.” The guard grabbed a tube of lubricant from a shelf and squeeze some on his gloved hands. “Are you ready, kid? Do you want me to embarrass you in front of your uncle? Your godfather? Just tell us what you’re hiding!”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Devin snapped back.

The guard walked up behind him and then inserted a finger up Devin’s ass. He flinched in surprise. I watched in wonder as the guard pushed his finger in and out of his asshole. “It’s up here, isn’t it?”

“No,” Devin whispered. From my angle, I saw that the guard’s finger was having another effect. Devin was getting hard.

The guard reached for more lube. Then he swiftly pushed in two fingers.

Devin gasped but the guard kept pushing knuckle deep into my godson. “Is it up here? What’s this? That’s your prostate gland.”

I watched in awe as my godson’s erection rose firm and curved upward toward his belly button. Devin spread his legs wider – I noticed his eyes were closed and he gently moved his ass against the guard’s fingers. The guard continued to massage his prostate, but if Devin had something hidden up there, it did not show.

“Fine,” he pulled his fingers out, “Get dressed.” The guard glanced at Devin’s erection and shook his head with disgust.

Devin quickly pulled his clothes back on. Then the two of us ran out of the room and got back into the now messy car.

As we got back on the highway, neither of us could say a word. Finally, I asked, “Are you carrying anything Devin?”

Devin looked at me, his bright green eyes naughty with mischief. Then he unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. He then pulled back his foreskin where something was wrapped around his mushroom gland. “Dabs,” Devin said. Then he smirked and tucked himself back into his pants. I shook my head as we rolled down the highway home.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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