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12 December 2005
The Angst Of Travel
by George Atkinson

Week 14
Went to England last week. Thought it would be a nice idea to bring along my Pro Extender. I've been falling behind schedule lately and my goal of a lordly seven inches has been reset to the plebian, but nevertheless respectable, six-point-five. And frankly, I'd consider it a partial failure if I came in below six-point-five. But a fuller commitment will be required if I'm to meet even this modest goal. So, bringing it along made sense. I would be walking around, going to museums and lifting pints at the bar - all good dick stretcher activities. No bending over, lifting or driving. Just freely hanging around, in an upright position, while my dick got bigger. I also wear cargo pants when I travel so I had the perfect place to stash the stretcher when I wasn't wearing it. That was the plan anyway.

But astute readers may recall that I found myself in this position before, and my primary problem was not how to use it there. It was how to get it there. I don't check my bags. I take a medium-sized (I don't cheat) knapsack sufficient for my needs and I really, really hate waiting for luggage. So the trick is to get the device past the ever more alert guards without inquiry. And they do check luggage. I've seen them. I've had mine checked - but then so was everyone's that time. I suspect the boss was checking things out. And the thing about this thing is that it looks like nothing else.

The thing would come sliding through view just long enough for the bored security guard to think "What the fuck?" And then would come the inevitable search because the boss is standing over his shoulder.

Now this may seem like an unwarranted risk. But there are ways of addressing this risk. For one, the device detaches. Elements that are made of plastic can be packed separately. But that would leave these pointy looking metal extenders sitting by themselves ready to be whipped out and used in an anti-social manner. So, how to disguise these pointy metal things? Down the barrel of a pen seemed like the obvious option. You're allowed to take pens, right? Right? A surge of doubt comes over me. Pens could be lethal! But I quickly recover. Of course you can take pens you idiot, they make you fill out those dammed customs forms. I always have to borrow mine.

So the pens would probably pass a cursory inspection. But what if it was more than cursory? After all, the security boss could still be hanging around. And if they opened it up they'd find the other parts and I'd have to provide an explanation. And if - "It's those pieces from my nephew's toy. Little scamp must've put them into my luggage!" - doesn't pass the credibility test, they'll dig further, find the pens and... well, at that point I'd probably lose my flight and maybe even future employment possibilities.

And it would all come out in front of the female boss, and her boss (also female), and then I'd have to 'fess all.

So forget the empty pen shells. What about just shoving the device, in whole, along with an Ipod? Just a miscellaneous jangle of consumer technology. If they find it, they find it, and I'll be totally up front. "I've got a penile condition called Peyronie's Disease (curvature of the penis)." I suppose they could ask me to prove it but that's more likely to be the plot of a porn movie. So, I could probably get away with it. More likely they would let me get away with it. And they'd probably be giggling about it later. And they'd tell there friends and they'd tell their friends and there's a very real chance I could become an industry legend.

So ultimately instead of, "what the fuck" I said "fuck it" Shoved the thing in a drawer and left to contemplate Nelson's column instead of my own.

Sorry, mates. Back on the rack next week.

Catch-up with the other episodes in Paul's Extender Experience.





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