By lthr_jock
I walk into the murky bar at Backstreet and take a look around. I can see a few regulars and a couple of nervous newcomers. One of them looks at me and immediately drops his gaze. I can’t say I blame him, as I know what I look like. From the toes of my gleaming Dehners to the tight collared shirt clapsed at my neck by a blue leather tie, I am covered in thick heavy leather.
My trousers are stitched and padded down the sides and tailored to accentuate the size of my cock. My leather uniform shirt and tie are mostly obscured by the thick padded leather jacket that has been belted tightly shut to show my narrow waist and the bulk of my chest. The gloom of the room is deepened by the reflective sunglasses I’m wearing and on top of my neatly cropped hair is my leather Muir cap. I raise my gloved hands to remove my sunglasses and tuck them in the top pocket of my jacket, before heading for the bar for a beer.
A bottle in hand, I head into the darkened area at the back. There are sounds of men having sex all around me, forming a soft counterpoint to the loud music. I find a place to stand, leaning against a wall, displaying the length of my body and look around for someone of interest. I spot one almost immediately.