Friday night found me back at Dottie's Body Shop trolling for business. Dottie's was a bit rougher dyke bar than I usually frequented, but it had been a tough week trying to close a deal on a new building and I was looking for some particularly hardcore fun to work out my stress.
Jane is working the door and she knows what sort of business I am there to do and she is going to charge me her own personal little tax. Jane is not unattractive, but she isn't pretty either. She has a harsh angular face which is only made harsher by the buzz cut she favors. She is dressed in black leather, as most of Dottie's customers prefer, including leather pants, a leather vest that gapes open in the front, and some chunky knee high boots. At about 5'9" she is shorter than me by about an inch, but the boots make up the difference.
"Well look what we have here." She says in a half sneer, and she looks at the other woman working the door, who I don't recognize and tells her "You keep checking IDs. This bitch needs to be frisked before she gets in."
I know her attitude is mostly for show, as is what comes next. If I hadn't come along, she would have found somebody else she knew to put up against the wall and have a little fun..... entertaining, and providing a slight air of danger, for those still waiting to get in. But, if I am being honest, I didn't mind. Think if it as a little foreplay. An appetizer, if you will, for what I hoped to find later.
She takes me by the arm and makes a show of dragging me about ten feet down the sidewalk, but still in full view of those waiting to get in. When we are a bit further down the sidewalk she whispers in a much more congenial tone, "You are looking particularly good tonight." And she wasn't wrong. I had on a bustier dress in white linen. The skirt was long, but had a slit in the side that came up high enough for even a casual observer to be pretty sure I wasn't wearing any panties underneath. The top of the dress had laces up the back and fit tightly, providing some lift to my moderately sized breasts. Giving them the appearance of being a bit larger than they actually were.
I also had a small white purse on a gold chain to hold what little bit of accessories I might need this evening. It included my alter-ego ID, a cash card, also in the alter-egos name, with a couple hundred dollars on it, lip gloss, car key, and a small bottle of lube.
Dottie's had something of a dress code. I don't mean you had to be dressed well to get in, but rather most regulars wore specific colors to signal their interests or status. I wore white, which told everyone that I was submissive. Jane's black generally indicated a domme into S&M, where as red tended toward domme into bondage.
When we got about ten feet from the doors, Jane resumes her act, pushing me up against the wall and announcing loud enough for everyone to hear "Lets see if this slut is packing! Spread, Bitch!" and I played my part, leaned against the wall, and spread for her. With the slit in the skirt it only took a simple flick of her hand to push it aside and my ass was bare for all to see. I knew they would all be looking but I didn't care in the slightest.
Jane stepped toward my side to give everyone a better view and I felt her hand on my ass. Then her hand started sliding slowly down my ass, her fingers between my cheeks, until she found the rosebud she was seeking. I had anticipated this eventuality and before getting out of my car had added a bit of the lube from my purse to my ass. That, and the generally practiced, accommodating nature of my ass meant her middle finger slide smoothly into me all the way to the hilt. When she realized I had come prepared she immediately added a second finger into my ass and gave a few long deliberate thrusts that would be visible to the crowd. I played my part and hung my head like the embarrassed cunt I was supposed to be.
In reality, I was enjoying the fondling and exhibitionism and was a bit disappointed when she withdrew her fingers and gave me a firm slap on my exposed ass. She loudly announced, presumably to the other bouncer, "She's clean, you can let her in" and led me back to the door with a hand gripping my arm and escorted me into the building. When we were through the doors and out of sight of the crowd outside, she gave me a quick kiss and said "Good Hunting" before returning to her duties.
Dottie's was already filling up and I didn't think it was going to be any problem finding some evening entertainment. I made my way to the bar, caught the eye of one of the bartenders I knew and when she came over, ordered a Sprite with a twist of lime. I paid for the drink, with a very generous tip, and asked if anybody had been looking for me. She shook her head, then leaned in close to be head over the music and said no one had asked for me specifically, but one woman had asked if there was anyone whose company she might be able to rent for the evening. She said at the time the answer was no, but now that I was here I might want to check her out. She pointed across the bar toward a table on the left side of the room and said "The blonde sitting by herself. Short hair, black jacked."
I saw the indicated table, said "Thanks." and headed that way. Her back was to me so it was hard to make much of an assessment as I approached, and about all I could discern from her back was that she was about average height. I walked wide around the table so I could get a look before I approached. As I came around, I realized she appeared to be mid to late 20's and would be considered attractive on just about any scale. She had a fairly lean, angular face, but the jacket hid most other details. Under the jacket she had on a gray or green t-shirt, and a long skirt that covered the tops of what appeared to be combat boots.
I decided to approach and walked up into her line of sight. When she looked up, I leaned in and asked "May I sit. Molly, at the bar, said you might be interested in me."
She made a motion inviting me to sit and I took a seat in the chair next to her rather than across the table. I placed my hand on her thigh and said, "My name is Samantha, or Sam if you prefer". She didn't flinch or pull away at my touch, which told me she probably had some experience and wasn't just a tourist. She replied her name was Cat and suggested we go to one of the back rooms where it was a little quieter so we could talk.