My fingers tapped the steering wheel as the line of cars in front of me moved ahead at a snail's pace. My driver's license and birth certificate lay beside me on the seat as I awaited my turn. Blasting from the stereo came the latest rock hit, and my fingers drummed the beat. When I got closer to the guard shack, I would turn it down, but for now, I was far enough away to keep it the way I liked it… loud.

The music bouncing around the interior of the old beat up Buick I drove made the wait bearable. I would much rather be on this side headed home than the alternative, which is where I was a few days before. Every summer, I was expected to visit my Aunt Georgina in Canada. The only reason I went was because the old lady was almost as rich as Bill Gates. Considering our family was small, I hoped my yearly visit would bring about a big cash-in once the old maid bit the dust. It helped that my few cousins hated her and refused to continue the visits once they turned eighteen.

Since I had pulled within a few cars of the guard shack, I reached over and twisted the knob on the radio, cutting the volume by more than half. The air blew out of the vents, but it was only moderately cool since the engine was mostly idling. It was just sufficient to keep me from breaking out in a sweat as I waited for the line to move. I was now close enough to the front of the line to get a good look at the border guard checking identification. The dark blue sleeves of his uniform shirt clung to muscles that threatened to rip the fabric into shreds. I couldn't see the front of him clearly, but I suspected by the size of his arms that the buttons were ready to pop on a shirt that was stretched too tightly around his bulging chest. His polyester pants fit like a second skin, and the profile of his ass as he bent over to inspect the papers of the occupant of the car ahead of me sent a twitch through my cock. I had a thing for muscle-men. Always had.

When it was finally my turn to pull up to the guard shack, I was not disappointed by the front view. The buttons were straining just as I had imagined, and there was an obvious bulge in the crotch of his pants. Damn… no steroids at work here. He was purely man made muscle attained the old fashioned way. I practically salivated at the thought of how large he'd grow when excited.

"Identification please." His deep gravelly voice cut through the lustful haze clouding my thoughts, and I managed to jerk my eyes away from the magnificence hinted at within his pants. Grabbing my papers from the seat, I handed them over and waited as he scrutinized them. His eyes flicked over the picture on my license and back to me. "This doesn't look like you."

"I wear contacts now, and my hairstyle is not the same. I'll admit it's an awful picture, but it is me." The fact of the matter was the picture had been taken when I was still in the awkward phase of being not a boy anymore, but still not yet a man. I hadn't had the time to get a new one taken.

"Give me your keys. I need to search the trunk." I killed the ignition and handed them over. He hadn't searched the trunks of any of the cars in front of me that I had noticed, so I wondered what had put me on his bad side. Maybe he didn't enjoy having his privates ogled by a horny guy. Oh shit… I suddenly remembered what was secreted away inside the tool box. I didn't think he would look in there, but it could be a little embarrassing if he did. Not that it should matter. My private life was no concern of his, and what was inside that tool box definitely belonged safely within the boundaries of said privacy.

The thud of the trunk echoed inside the car and his shadow fell over the door as he returned. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to get out of the car and follow me. Don't worry about your car and papers. One of the other border guards will take care of them."

"What's the problem?" My heart sped up as I slowly exited the car. "Just follow me, sir." He led me inside the detention building as thoughts raced around my head. What is going on? The rubber soles of his shoes slapped against the scuffed tile floor as I followed him down a narrow hall-way until he stopped and ushered me into a small room that wasn't much bigger than a closet. A beat up wooden table occupied the center of the room, and two dented metal chairs flanked each side. A lone bulb hung over the table, emitting a dim light. My breath caught in my throat when I heard the snick of the lock engaging.

"Put your hands on the wall and spread your legs." I wanted to ask why as I faced the wall and assumed the position, but I thought better of it. I had no idea what the problem was, but I didn't want to piss him off. The frisk was fast and professional… until he reached between my legs. His touch then turned from quick and efficient to slow and caressing. His buff body pressed against mine as his hand cupped me through the fabric of my khaki shorts. I could feel the growing hardness of him as he held himself against my ass. I couldn't stop the moan as his fingers traced the outline of my cock.

"I saw your special tool in the trunk," he whispered, his breath hot on my ear. "What's the matter? Can't find real cock to fill that tight ass of yours?"

"Not recently," I stammered. The truth was, I hadn't really come out to anyone I knew. My parents were devout Catholics and would be devastated to learn their only son was gay. In trying to keep them from finding out, I had kind of boxed myself in and away from opportunities to meet other guys. My only sexual experiences had consisted of a handful of hurried one night stands picked up in bars and the "tool" resting inside my trunk.

"Well this is your lucky day." His hand squeezed my rock hard cock, and I groaned loudly. Releasing my dick, he took me by the shoulders and pushed me to my knees. "Suck me, pretty boy and get me nice and sloppy wet so I can fuck your tight little ass."

I didn't hesitate. My fingers made quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his pants, and I soon had his glorious cock in my hands. A shiver raced through me as I saw and felt the thickness of him. He was larger than any man I'd ever taken, and a moment of doubt ran through my mind. Would I be able to handle his size without being hurt? The thought was pushed from my mind and he impatiently thrust his hips forward. Gripping the base with one hand, I stroked him lightly as my tongue played across the fat tip of his cock.

However, he was in no mood for teasing and grabbed me by the hair and pulled me onto him as he shoved himself into my mouth. My cock throbbed painfully inside my shorts in response to the rough treatment. Gagging as the plump head pushed into my throat, I struggled to match my breathing to the rhythm of his rapid thrusts. As I relaxed and got in time with him, my tongue moved around his shaft as it plunged in and out of my mouth. I was just getting into it, licking and sucking with fervor, when he pulled it out with a wet pop.

"Get up, drop your pants, and bend over the table." I pushed my pants and underwear down over my hips and felt them fall to my ankles as I placed my forearms on the table and leaned over. He spit and wetness slipped down the crack of my ass. Saliva wasn't the best lube in the world, but it worked in a pinch as long as you applied enough of it. The tip of his cock slid up and down my ass, rubbing the spit along the hole. He spit again, and this time a finger slithered down between my cheeks and stroked around my pucker before pushing inside, carrying some of the saliva with it.

He repeated this a few times until my tight anal passage was relaxed somewhat and coated in his wetness. The table was narrow enough that I could curl my fingers around the edge of the other side, which I did when I felt his big head pushing against my hole. Gripping the table, I tried to keep my ass relaxed as he fed his meat into me inch by thick inch. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until it came out with a whoosh when he was fully seated inside me. He waited a moment before moving, and I had a fleeting thought that he would go slow, but I was wrong. He went from zero to sixty in a flash, withdrawing his large cock and slamming back into my ass in rapid strokes.

The first few were uncomfortable, but he reached around and took my hard dick in his big hand, and my arousal shot up. He masturbated me in time with his powerful thrusts, his fingers sliding up and down my shaft in a squeezing dance. Warmth radiated through my ass as he fucked me over the table, the sounds of our bodies slapping together filling the small room. Pleasure flowed through my body, and my balls tightened as my ass rippled around his cock.

"Oh fuck," I cried out as my cock pulsed and cum shot out, splattering on the table before his hand came up to catch the rest of it. He kept stroking me, using my own cum as lubrication as small after-tremors quaked through me. The tight muscles of my ass clutched at his cock, and I felt him twitch inside me. With a groan, he rammed deep into my ass and flooded me with his cum.

After we got dressed and cleaned up, he led me back outside where my car was waiting parked next to the detention building. He opened the door for me and leaned down after he closed it behind me. "Hope you come back to Canada real soon," he said with a grin. If this was the kind of attention I would get coming through customs, I thought I might start visiting Aunt Georgina more often.