It was well past six when the shaky old bus reached it's final stop. Jane muttered something angrily as she dropped a coin in the metal cup beside the driver and walked out. She had planned to reach the crossing in the afternoon, but the bus broke down on one of the mountain passes and it took the driver almost three hours to get it moving again.
Pushing people in her way she walked quickly towards a thick crowd. The border crossing closed at seven o'clock and with the attitude of the workers it usually did so some twenty minutes earlier.
Jane reached the crowd. She was relieved to see that those actually waiting to cross were rather fewer than the dark mass of people she saw from the buss stop. Most were either relatives and friends or taxi drivers trying to catch someone crossing into the country. Nevertheless, Jane pushed her way ahead of many going her way, used to her status of a foreigner often preventing the Arab men to mess with her.
She finally reached a narrow passage where she couldn't push any further. In front of her stood a tall man with his veiled wife. In front still were several Americans, whom she recognized as Red Cross staff.
Jane had been here a hundred times and knew every inch of this dirty complex. As the line moved on slowly she could clearly see the large open entrance to the main building. Inside was a large x-ray, covered with dirty stickers. She looked behind her and saw to young men. She was used to the constant looks she attracted in this conservative and underdeveloped society and had long ago become used to it.
Meanwhile the line in front of her thinned. The Americans entered the building, and only the Arab couple stood in front of her. Right next to the entrance stood an officer and a very young soldier, probably a conscript in his late teens. He too had fixed his glance on her.
Someone shouted something from inside and the officer reached out to take the Arabs' passports. He quickly looked through them and handed them back. The couple entered dragging their large formless luggage behind them and Jane was left alone in front of the two men.
She was getting nervous. Looking inside she could see many familiar faces amongst the officers. Several notorious minutes passed as Jane watched the Arabs load the luggage onto the x-ray machine, then pass to the other side of it and apparently have their it double checked by hand. Although she could not see it, she knew there was a desk behind the x-ray machine where two officers sat. The Arabs where probably being questioned there.
Finally she heard the command, but it was rather different from the one she heard minutes before. The officer turned around, hesitated, apparently wondering whether try to communicate in his tongue or just go with English, then finally crossing his hands in front of his chest, said,
"Close."
Damn it, Jane looked at her watch, it was a quarter to seven, but as she looked up to say something the officer pointed towards a large watch hanging inside, which showed some three minutes to the hour. Jane knew it was hopeless, but as she was about to let out her anguish and turn around she heard a coarse voice from inside. The officer turned around and Jane looked towards the entrance. Suddenly a nervous rush of adrenaline passed through her body.
She knew the man who stood between the gates and who had called out those last words. He was tall, with small narrow eyes and a bony face. The officer in the doorway turned towards her and pointed inside, signaling a free passage. Jane was confronted with a choice: she could go in, knowing what to expect, or she could turn back, and try to settle somewhere in the border town till next morning. But reasoning quickly enough she walked in.
As she took off her handbag to place on the x-ray machine, she heard the officer yell something, apparently at the men behind her and then the gates rammed shut with the sound echoing around the large warehouse-like room. Jane passed to the other side of the machine to pick up her bag. She was right about the desk; the Arab couple was still sitting in front of it.
Just then she saw the officer who had let her in walk in front of her. Pointing to semi open door with his hand-held metal detector he said, with a heavy local accent,
"Please pass."
Well anticipating this, Jane slowly walked in. The officer followed her and closed the door behind him. Through a short corridor Jane found herself in a very small, dimly lit room. In front of her, just a couple of feet away, was a wooden table serving as a desk. The man flipped a switch turning on a small lamp and filling the room with yellow light.
With her back to him, Jane waited. She felt her handbag being urged off and released it, letting him take it off. She heard the zipper and then the fumbling sound as the officer searched through it. Soon enough though the fumbling sound stopped. Jane waited nervously. She felt a large hand touch her buttock.
There we go, she thought.
The hand moved down a bit, then rolled into her inner left thigh and moved up till her crotch. After pressing up persistently for a minute it moved to her right thigh. Simultaneously his second hand touched her hip. It moved around her belly, then up slowly towards her breasts.
Although in no way overweight, Jane's body was rather robust, with quite impressive breasts and ass. Her long blond hair constituted to quite typical image of your average good looking American.
She waited patiently, as the officer siwtched from her breasts to her ass and crotch then back. It was not the first time she had to go through this. The first time, almost two years ago, because of a misprint in her papers. All the other times were utterly random. All she knew was that she could be turned back at any moment without any explanation.
The officer's movements slowly grew agitated, his hands now fumbling around quite coarsely. Jane grew nervous, she looked out of the small window and saw that the sky was turning darker. She didn't know how long this would last. Most times she got away with just several minutes of this hassle, but something told her that this time was different.
Suddenly the officers hand dashed in between her shirt buttons - almost ripping them apart, and touched her bra. This was something new and Jane was getting more tensed than ever. She bit her lip, trying to understand how far this would go.
At the same time, as one hand fumbled around her bra, trying to work it's way under it, the other suddenly pressed against her pussy and made several painful grabbing-like motions.
Jane squealed. Her mind was working constantly in an effort to decide whether to scream, shout and try to struggle or just go with it, hoping for a quick outcome. Suddenly however, the officer seemed to calm down. He let his grip and pulled out his hand from the narrow space between her shirt buttons. Then he slowly and carefully undid the upper two buttons on Jane's shirt, and pushed the two sides of it apart. Slowly again, he moved his hand back and under her bra. Jane felt the warm and somewhat damp palm touch her breast, work it's way deeper and touch her nipple. At the same time the upper hand began unbuttoning the rest of her shirt.