I have this reoccurring fantasy about heading into the city with the intent of going to the local gay bar, the kind of place that panders very heavily to gay men. That’s what I am, right? I make sure my chest is tapped perfectly flat, I put on my hottest “tboy twink” outfit, and head out in search of some “totally gender affirming cock.” But as I walk through the streets, getting closer and closer, something is wrong. I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach. An intense discomfort that won’t go away. As I reach the entrance to the bar my body physically stops me from approaching. Some greater instinct inside of me knows I don’t belong here, that I’m not wanted nor do I really want to be.
I start walking away and feel compelled to keep going. Pulled down streets by some invisible force. It’s only when I’m nearly there do I fully realize where I’m going. I’ve never seen the only lesbian bar in the city but standing before it now I feel a resounding sense of safety and rightness. My body shows none of the hesitation it did before as I approach the entrance, soft pink light emanating from inside. I hand the hot butch bouncer my ID and they look it over and give me a knowing smile allowing me inside.
There’s a heat building deep inside me as I step into the dimly lit space. I’m suddenly surrounded by queer women and mascs of all kinds. A pretty femme at the bar catches my gaze and hold it for several seconds with a flirty smile. My face burns and I pull my eyes away. This should feel wrong, I’m a man not a queer woman, not a lesbian… But I can spot plenty of other people I’m pretty sure are trans men here, completely at home. Is there something so wrong with that? There’s a voice deep inside me that tells me this is exactly where I belong. Relaxation and arousal blanket me in a trance. Any dysphoria I have or discomfort over labels falls away and I sit down at the bar to order a drink.
A little while later I’m getting tipsy and I’m pulled out onto the dance floor. Suddenly I’m surrounded by hot dykes including the pretty femme from before. She stands in front of me and grinds into me. Her hands are all over my body and she pushes them under my tank top and starts massaging my breasts through my tape. She pulls in close and whispers that she wishes I wouldn’t hide my pretty tits like this. All I can do is moan as she continues to squeeze them.
The next thing I know I’m following a few of them to an apartment above the bar, I have no idea whose. I make out on the bed with the femme while a few others get into their straps. She asks if she can eat me out and I say yes please. When she pulls off my boxers and reveals my dripping cunt her face lights up with hunger.
“I love the taste of butch clit.”
She holds down my thighs and makes me squirt into her mouth. I moan and beg for her to eat my cunt as she hums in delight. The others start taking turns fucking her from behind as she continues to lick my pussy. Eventually she pulls herself up to lay on top of me and someone places a vibrator wand in between our clits. We make out and moan into each others mouths as we both get fucked. We both come and squirt again and again on the other girls’ straps, the femmes beautiful tits rubbing up against my tape. I tell her I wish it was gone so I could feel my tits against hers, and she tells me we can fix that later.
After we’ve all had our fill they all guide me to the bathroom and turn on the shower. They saturate my tape with olive oil, spilling copious amounts over my chest and rubbing it in. Making sure to kill any binding or adhesive power. Then they put me in the shower and help me peel the tape away from my sensitive breasts, sucking and teasing my nipples. After I get out of the shower one of the girls comes at me with shaving cream and an electric razor. Before I know it all of the dark hair on my chest and stomach is gone.
When they place me in front of the full length mirror I realize I look like a typical butch. All of the fretting and effort I’ve put into passing seems to be for nothing when these girls can strip it away with some oil and a razor. I realize I will never be a gay man or any kind of man. I should be devastated at my identity crumbling before me, that all of these years of struggle and hard work have gone to waste… but it feels amazing.
Standing here, surrounded by beautiful women, my perky tits and puffy pussy on full display I feel more at home with myself than I have in a long time. I realize I might not be fully lesbian but I belong *to* the lesbians, that lesbian spaces are my natural habitat. I realize I will always be closer to a lesbian than I ever will be to a gay man and fuck if it doesn’t feel good to admit. Freeing.
The girls are all smiling and I know they can see it in my face. I’m fully accepting I’m one of them. Giving up thoughts of being anything else.
The femme comes forward and firmly cups my pussy in her hand, “Doesn’t this feel so much better.”
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