Whenever I begin preparations for a trip, there is always one big concern. Not what clothes to pack, I’m the sort of annoying person who throws some stuff into a backpack a few minutes before leaving the house. Not what books to take, although that’s usually tougher. Not even how to coordinate phone calls home, we’ve got that sort of thing worked out already.
It’s what sort of filth to take with me.
Type your cut contents here.
Okay, I could be in the weird minority here, but I hate being stuck in a strange city, in my hotel room alone, with no porn. At home I know what to find where, at friends’ places I usually have free run of their movie stash. But at 3 in the morning when the ice machine outside my door has woken me up for the fourth time in 15 minutes and I’ve already taken three showers, that’s when I start going through my bag to see which magazine or book or CD I’ve brought along. Sure, a lot of motels have adult movies available and they’ll do in a pinch — and I admit I even prefer the long distance, full body shots they tend to favor as being more fun to watch than the series of 10 minute long gynecological closeups the video versions use — but you never know what you might get. At times I’ve found myself picking the ones with the weirdest names just to give the desk help something to chuckle over when I check out.
Nah, I prefer to pick up something for the journey. That way it’ll always remind me of the good time I had, especially if the porn in question turned out to have been the high point of the trip.
This brings us to the biggest problem — how to get this stuff through airport security. I can tell you now that I’m an especially difficult person to embarrass. You have to care what people think of you to be embarrassed, no worries there. But I don’t want to hold up the line or delay the flight or get arrested or, worst of all, get singled out as the guy to muscle into the bathroom once we lift off. So I’ve devised a list of helpful tips for getting your smut through safely and silently, and I thought I’d share them with you.
Make sure everything is turned off, deflated, dried, deactivated, or sanitized before you even enter the airport.
A previously applied little sticker that reads “Emergency Flotation Device” can quickly reduce interest in your blowup doll.
Never, never, never band your vibrators together in a bunch, especially if they have any electronics in them that would cast suspicious x-ray shadows.
Business cards that declare you to be a urologist can go a long way towards explaining why you felt the need to bring along so many penises. Careful, this also means you’ll be forced to diagnose the odd, imaginary, or disgusting ailments of everyone on board. Physician credentials can also help explain the restraints, clamps, and rubber tubing. It probably won’t help with the 25′ of rope.
If that doesn’t work, try a business card that lists you as a traveling Viagra salesman.
Most slick porn magazines fit nicely inside a detached Cosmopolitan cover, and at first glance the ads will look the same. Come to think of it, at second glance the ads appear the same.
You may be asked to start up your lap top to prove it’s really a lap top, so be sure to remove the Brittney Spears gang bang wallpaper and the desktop stripper first. Oh, and the flying dildos screen saver. And probably the Sucky, sucky, I love you long time” wav file you’re using as your Windows Start sound. And kill the auto run functionality so your Teen Fellatists Who Gargle CD doesn’t fire up.
On second thought, leave the lap top at home.
Roll up your leather hood and stash it inside a tube sock. Articles of clothing that obscure the face tend to trigger paranoid thoughts in security guards. Do not bring handcuffs, ever.
If you get asked about strange oblong electrical devices in your luggage, explain that you have a license to carry it and the batteries are stored separately. And the safety’s on.
Oils, lubricants and other liquid pleasures should be transported in unbreakable plastic bottles. Really. It’s a holy bitch to get “Oil of Love” out of your dress shirts.
Wearing your cock rings, labia jewelry, or Prince Alberts through the metal detector is just asking for it, you know. Might as well wear a “Please strip search me” t-shirt. Although, come to think of it, that’d be a pretty cool t-shirt…
A lot of difficulty can be avoided if you just pack all your sex stuff in the same container and explain to the puzzled guards that it’s your display case. If they’re interested you might make some sales.
Slaves should be given temporary near-equal status, if only because checking them through as luggage or pets will cause comment.
Sex in the airplane bathroom can be wildly exciting and a huge turn-on, but please consider the comfort of the other passengers and avoid 4 hour tantric encounters or the lengthier, more intricate rope bondage sessions.