A bisexual girl walks into a leather bar…[MF] [F21][M56]

Sassy butch. Toppy lesbo. Bull dyke.

I went by all of them.

It was an crisp mid winter evening, which meant that my wardrobe choices would have to be more strategic. Cute, femme, and cold, or butch, enigmatic, and comfortable? The latter it would be.

The skimpy skirts and busty crop tops would stay in the closet, unlike the rest of me. Tonight, butch Sarah was coming out. Tight-fitting 501s , black combat boots, and a buttery, freshly-polished leather jacket would complete the look. But I had no intentions to sticking to my traditional Catholic-school-girl Friday night dinner of fresh fish: tonight I wanted a quality aged and peppered summer sausage.

If I wanted to make the leather daddies question their affinity for cock, I’d really have to do it up, and well. I put on the tightest sports bra I owned, which practically acted as a binder for my DD tits. The long hair was slicked back and pinned up, revealing an undercut which gave the illusion of a fade with a pompadour

I headed directly to the town, I had a plan that needed to be executed, and I didn’t have time for vacillation to slow me down. For once I would skip the lesbian club and go straight to the leather bar, where I hoped to be daddy’s little fuckboy for the evening.

I was hoping there was a chance I could pass as a trans or maybe even cis boy to skip paying cover. But even with the double D’s compressed, I still had hips that gave the Venus of Villendorf a run for her money.

I approached the black wood-paneled building decorated with neon lights on the exterior. It wasn’t even close to being dark yet, though that didn’t keep the boys from lining up.

I joined the line and quickly noticed that I was the only dyke in the lineup. Surrounded by every twink in the neighborhood, I was easily the most masculine presence there, aside from the leather daddy directly behind me, who made me stick out like a sore thumb. Fuck. I was definitely paying a cover tonight.

The line moved forward quickly, the bouncer checking IDs and briskly waving twinks through the dark vestibule into the even darker bar. Once I reached the head of the line, The bouncer gave me the once over, nodded approvingly, then smiled at me as he took my ID. looked me up and down, as if he was checking me out, and looked fairly convinced. He glanced down at my ID, nodded again as he checked the date, then his smile faded as he saw my indisputably female name and blonde femme photo.

“Twenty.” he barked.

“Twenty?” I rummaged through my black leather wallet, equally surprised and unprepared for the high cover.

“He’s with me.”

I turned around to see a burly bear, in well worn jeans, held with a thick black leather belt, tucked into a pair of nearly knee high engineer boots, a snug black T-shirt and a well worn black leather jacket. His white, military-cut hair, and a cinnamon and sugar goatee were beard, a tell-tale sign of a once redhead.

The bouncer He waved us through and I was shocked. Did he actually think I was a boi, or was he just trying to be nice? Either way, I owed him a thank you.

“Thank you so much for that, I’m Sarah.”

“I’m Robert, although most of the guys in here call me Daddy Robert. That’s what most call me here.”

“Can I get you something to drink?.”

I imagined he was an elder in the community. Helping me out with the cover, getting me drink, his well worn, but immaculately polished, black leather jacket and boots, it all made sense. He was a capital D daddy.

“Whiskey soda. Lime.”

“A whiskey boy. I bet that makes your hair stand up.”

“Nah, I’m a tough brute.”

“I’ve noticed. Those deltoids are damning.”

Fuck. He had already checked me out. Maybe my boy pussy was going to be fucked by a peppered summer sausage after all.

“Hips or lips?”

I was surprised by how forward the question was, but also thought that it might be part of the act. He was a daddy after all, and maybe, if I was lucky enough, he was trying to daddy me.

“What makes you think I’m a bottom?” a trick question, as a lesbian-leaning bisexual switch.

He leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“Keys on the right and you don’t wear 501s that tight in a size too small unless you want to show off your ass, which is exquisite.”

“Well, you’re half right. And, both, to answer your question.”

“Hmmm” he moaned, taking another sip of his stout.

“I’m a dyke.”

“I’ve noticed. Though your presence here suggests that you have at least an affinity for leather daddies. You don’t look like you’re waiting for the rest of your bachelorette party, so I’m guessing you’re here for a walk on the wild side? It’s OK, as long as you go to the potluck tomorrow and I go to brunch, we’ll still both be gay.””

“You’re not wrong about that. Though you are slightly misguided about me being a bottom.”

“I didn’t mean bottom across the board. Bottom for daddy, top for the dykes, I’d guess.”

“Precisely.”

“Well then I think this evening has some potential for a good situation.”

“Indeed it does.”

I could feel the tension building. The dampness between my legs. The slight throbbing between my lips. I was ready for to be daddied *so hard*.

“What do you think about finishing these drinks and getting on with the night, perhaps, in a different setting?”

“Splendid.”

“Cheers to that.”

We clinked and finished our drinks almost immediately.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into him, then slid his hand down and struck my ass to grab and squeeze it, hard, “A nice, tight ass and a swimmer’s build, I think we’ve got some work to do tonight, boy.”.

We walked back to his car, his roughened hands holding me like a vulture gripping its prey. He led me to a green Mazda Miata, which I guessed was likely built in the year that I was born. He opened the door for me, before getting in on the driver’s side. He started the car, and placed his hand on my groin.

“Let’s see how long daddy can tease you.”

I could feel a blossoming pulse between my legs, starting modestly and building with every stroke of his hand. I unbuttoned my 501s as an invitation for him to play with me but, in reality, it was more like a plea.

He guffawed at the proposition, “I’m not done teasing you, son.”

He continued to edge me for the rest of the car ride. I suspected that he’d relieve my frustration at some point, but he didn’t let up. He was going to tease me until I broke.

He turned his clipped keys toward him and out of the ignition, and attached them to his left side. He opened the door for me, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me out of the car.

“Follow me,” he barked.

He took me immaculately decorated one-bedroom apartment on the hill. It was perhaps the most unassuming living space for a man of his nature. With white walls and a generally sleek, refined look, I felt more like I was at an open house and not a leather daddy’s lair.

“I wasn’t prepared for this tonight, I really could use to wash up.”

“You’re welcome to hop in the shower. Get clean before you get you get very, very dirty for me.

Follow me. I’ll show you the way and grab you a towel.”

We walked a short distance down the hall to the first door on the left where he gestured for me to head in.

“After you, handsome.”

I turned around to close the door. He was still standing in the doorway, hips cocked to his side like he was going to assume this position for a bit.

“Strip.”

I started with my boots. My hands trembled as I nervously struggled to unlace each side.

I reached my waist to grab undo my 501s button by button, revealing my boyish briefs and sprawling bush.

I looked up to notice him gawking. Licking his lips, stroking his cock over his jeans, and locking his eyes onto me, he was mentally fucking me and and hadn’t even seen anything good yet.

I slid the briefs down to my ankles, where I also removed my socks.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he groaned.

For the grand finale, I removed by shirt and sports bra in one swift move, trying to get myself into the shower as soon as he would let me.

He laughed under his breath.

“Get up on the sink.”

For a second I thought he was going to wash me in the sink, a sexy, very daddy-like move.

I hoisted myself onto the sink backwards so that I was still facing him.

“Spread.”

I splayed by legs open abruptly, as if his hands were a patron standing in front of the automatic door that was my jockish legs. A leather daddy on his knees? For me? Certainly something was off.

“Uh, um, are you sure? I could really use a shower?”

He buried his face deeper into me, savoring what I had been so insecure about.

“I can tell. Delicious.”

“This isn’t what I’d imagined happening, I thought I’d surely being do this for you,” I said incredulously. Every interaction I had with him over the night started to run through my mind. Did I misinterpret something? Maybe he’s a leather daddy and sub? Wait, is that even possible? What the fuck is happening?

“Daddies are versatile, my dear boy.”

He grabbed the back of my thighs and pulled me into him, kissing the inside of my thighs and taking the occasional nibble. The coarse hairs of his goatee reminded me of the dry brush I used on my silky shaven legs during my femme days. Oh, how I’m happy to now feel that in this setting and not the previous.

I had really questioned the quality of the head I was about to receive. Afterall, he was a *gay* leather daddy? Doesn’t that mean he’s repulsed by vaginas? Why would mine be any different?

My skepticism aside, he slowly and gracefully transitioned from teasing my thighs to plunging his face deep into my drenched pussy. I couldn’t even say exactly what was going, only that it was likely the best head I’d ever received. As I came and came, I braced myself against the countertop with hands behind my back, supporting the arch that formed with each and every climax.

I was truly speechless. I wasn’t even in the frame of mind to moan “daddy,” and was always a regular part of my sexual experience. Instead, all I could manage to mutter was “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuuck” dozens and dozens of times.

I finally put my hand on the top of his head, pushing it back every so slightly to signal that I’d have enough.

“I’m sorry, I’m just getting too overstimulated and sensitive.”

“You liked the way daddy took care of you?”

“I loved every moment of it.”

He stood up to meet me at eye level and pressed the tip of his nose against mine, staring into my eyes directly.

“You ready to be a dear little boy for daddy?”

I had never been more ready.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/f67gvv/a_bisexual_girl_walks_into_a_leather_barmf_f21m56