Blake Hart
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Airport Daddy - Part 2
🕑 Added 2025-02-20 14:30:01 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
The walk to checkpoint three was short, but it felt like an eternity. My mind was still back in that room with Larren, replaying the way he had squirmed under my gaze, the way his breath hitched when I leaned in just a little too close. I couldn’t shake the image of his wide, fearful eyes, the way his delicate fingers had fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. He’s just a kid, I told myself, but the thought only made my pulse quicken. There was something about him—something vulnerable, something untouched—that made me want to push, to see how far I could take this little game.
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By the time I finally got back to the room, I was practically buzzing with anticipation. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my boots clicking against the tile floor. Larren was still sitting where I’d left him, his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He looked up as I entered, his eyes widening as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Good, I thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.
“Well, well,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the door. “Looks like you’re still here. I was starting to think you’d run off on me, Larren.”
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing nervously. “I-I didn’t know if I was supposed to…” His voice trailed off, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. God, he was like a frightened little rabbit.
“Relax,” I said, pushing off the door and taking a step toward him. “I’m not going to bite. Well, not unless you give me a reason to.” I chuckled, watching as his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. “But here’s the thing—my supervisor just informed me that we’re doing random frisks today. And guess what? You’re the lucky winner.”
Larren’s head shot up, his eyes wide with panic. “W-what? But I already went through security! I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Hey, hey, calm down,” I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “It’s not personal. Just part of the job. You understand, don’t you?” I took another step closer, my shadow falling over him. “Now, why don’t we make this easy and you just take off your clothes for me.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. He looked like he was about to argue, but then he thought better of it. Slowly, hesitantly, he stood up from the chair, his movements stiff and awkward. His hands shook as he reached for the hem of his sweater, pulling it over his head and tossing it onto the chair. His chest was pale and smooth, his ribs just barely visible beneath his skin. He looked even smaller without the bulk of his clothes, his shoulders hunched as if he were trying to make himself disappear.
“Keep going,” I said, my voice low and commanding. He nodded quickly, his fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans. He pushed them down, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. His boxers were plain white, clinging to his narrow hips. He hesitated, his hands hovering at the waistband. “Everything,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I need to check everything.”
His face burned as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down, stepping out of them and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. He stood there, completely naked, his arms crossed over his chest as if he were trying to shield himself. His skin was milky white, his body lean and delicate. He was trembling, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
“Good,” I said, circling him slowly. “Now, arms out to the sides. Let me get a good look at you.” He obeyed, though his movements were stiff and robotic. His arms were thin, his muscles barely there. I stepped closer, my boots clicking against the floor. “Relax,” I murmured, running a hand down his side. He flinched at my touch, his breath hitching. “I’m just doing my job.”
I started with his arms, my fingers tracing the smooth skin of his underarms. He squirmed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Stay still,” I said, my voice firm. He froze, his body tense as I continued my inspection. My hands moved down his sides, over his narrow hips, and then between his legs. He gasped, his legs trembling as my fingers brushed against his soft, untouched skin. I could feel the pulse of his heartbeat, frantic and unsteady.
“Lift your arms more,” I instructed, my voice calm and even. He obeyed, though his movements were slow and hesitant. I could see the faint tremor in his muscles as he raised them above his head, exposing his underarms completely. He was smooth, not a trace of hair, just soft, vulnerable skin. I ran my fingers along the curve of his underarm, feeling the warmth of his body, the way his breath hitched when I touched him.
“Open your legs,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. He hesitated for a moment before obeying, shifting his weight nervously. My fingers moved downward, tracing the delicate skin of his inner thighs. He shuddered, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his body reacted to my touch, even though he tried to hide it.
My hand brushed against his balls, and he let out a soft, involuntary whimper. “Stay still,” I murmured, my voice low and commanding. He nodded quickly, his body stiff as I continued my inspection. My fingers moved up, tracing the length of his soft cock, feeling the way it twitched under my touch as I raised it to inspect under it. He was so responsive, his body betraying him even as he tried to hold himself together.
"Mhm," he whimpered—so soft it was barely a whisper, but I heard it. I had caught another one. A gay, uncertain, barely eighteen-year-old, probably a virgin, maybe not even out to himself. But that was about to change.
My eyes flicked to the boxes of latex gloves, then back to Larren. He swallowed hard.
