Would you take that off, please?

Violet Blue yesterday posted one of the greatest things I've ever seen, an erotic take on airport security checkpoints:

I take off my earrings, my necklace, deliberately placing the girlish silver with my glasses. I'm usually still smiling now, because it's time to take off my belt. I know what's going to happen. I unbuckle the metal and leather, sliding the belt through its loops around my waist, which serves to loosen my pants and move the denim to and fro as I work the belt free. The top straps of my g-string always peek out; I can't help this. I unzip my hoodie and peel it off, revealing the light cotton tank top I always wear. And even though it makes no sense, I always take off my stripey arm warmers, because if I don't, they *make me* take them off. ...

They all watch. Then I wait for their commands, and their approval. I do what they say, unconditionally, and this is an unspoken agreement between me and the men.

V.B. mentions that, "as a post-9/11 editor" of erotica collections, she gets a lot of stories eroticizing the airport scene.