Customs checked my cock rings

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I nearly always have "random" search. This time when I went through Washington/Dulles airport I was cheeky enough to declare sex accessories (alongside the cigars, German chocolates and Hermés cologne); and watched closely as the federal minion - a good-looking brother actually - fucked up my perfectly packed luggage as he looked for who-knows-what.

 Damn I wish I'd had an electric vibrator

Flying into America is shit. Our security measures are shit...bogus distractions. Immigration and Customs agents are generally wage-earning shitheads who couldn't detect a terrorist if he had Jihad inked on his forehead.  

Customs flipped through my journal - sorry, no drawn swastikas or bomb recipes - and nude snapshots. Big ain't it? I said to his sudden reaction. He quickly cleared his throat and asked if I was a bodybuilder. Customs picked up the tube of lube and wondered what it was?

"Lubricant," I answered, adding after a heartbeat, "For easier penetration."
"Penetration?"
"Oh my God! For sex, man, sex! Sometimes the asshole is too tight, y'know...is this so odd?!"

Then he picked up the laptop and turned it on. I couldn't see which  files he was opening but when he gave a start I pretty much guessed at the desktop pictures he was...oogling; his eyes darted to me and that was the last of any eye-contact he made. Well? I asked. "Nothing, sir. We have to check all electronic devices." Damn, I wish I'd had an electric vibrator. Next time. And a big ass one. When it looked like Customs was ready to peel off the latex gloves I cried, Wait my cock-rings!

"Sir?"  
"You've checked my cologne and chocolate and cigars and clothes - and diary and private pictures; but you didn't check my cock-rings."
He looked unsure. "Cock-rings...?"
"Yes: cock-rings," I said matter-of-factly. "Rings for my big...well y'know...YOU've seen the pictures. Anyway I declared them so you have to check 'em out. Here," pointing to my goody bag, "you didn't look in here." 

He cleared his throat and asked if I was a bodybuilder

Customs sighed and unzipped the pouch. "Is this.." - No, no, I replied, those are condoms, man - "Oh. This?" - Bingo. And there's another one too - "Oh. Wow...um...is...that all?" he said hopefully. Yes, sir, that's everything, I said and thanked him for checking my declared items.

"Say, have you worn them?"
"Yes, of course! I like using cock-rings. All the time. ALL the time. And you touched them."
He gave a nervous laugh with the hanging reply, "Man. My job...."
I assured the brother he was a good patriot. "Just doing your patriotic duty. Now are we through here?"