| December 22nd, 2004 10:10 PM |
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| Ten Thousand Motels |
Whether it's Sexmas or Spanksgiving, sex party patrons will seize just about any chance to make merry
John Koopman
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
San Francisco Chronicle
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Power Exchange house, all the creatures were stirring, one doffing her blouse.
The stockings were hung some by garter belts with care, in hopes that attention would soon be directed there.
The swingers were nestled upon the third-floor beds, while visions of sex acts danced in their heads.
When out upon the main floor lounge there arose such a clatter, some sprang from the lip-shaped love seat to see what was the matter.
Away to the stripper pole they flew like a flash, huddled round the microphone, bodies crushed in a mash.
The black-light glow on the breasts like new-fallen snow, gave the lustre of midday to the lust of the revelers below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear, but a miniature sex toy and eight vixens dear.
With a small, young emcee, his face fresh by gosh, I knew at the moment it must be young Josh.
More rapid than eagles, his customers they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Cheryl, Now L.B., now Jen and Stain. On Shontay, on Debbie, on What- the-heck's-the-name-of-that-other-vixen?, go on down to the dungeon again!
To the top of the gay floor, to the cow room you all, now spank away, flirt away, do it up against the wall.
As dry leaves that before the wild orgy fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount with a cry.
So up to the dance floor the contestants they flew, with an armload of toys and Josh Powers, too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard with a few, the prancing and pawing of people trying for a better view.
As I drew in my hand and was turning around, down the stairs from L3 a naked duo did bound.
They were dressed not at all, neither their heads nor their feet, their skin sprayed with glitter, like a disco ball in heat.
A bundle of condoms they clutched in their hands; they looked just like peddlers, peddling the condom brands.
Their eyes how they twinkled, their dimples how daring. Their cheeks were like roses, their nostrils were flaring.
Their droll little mouths were drawn up like some bows, no beards on their chins as white as their toes.
They spoke not a word but went straight to their work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying their fingers along the seam of a hose, and giving a nod, brought the contest to a close.
They sprang to their boyfriends, as the crowd clapped and whistled, and away they all walked, to the sex rooms and gristle.
But I heard them exclaim as they walked through the night,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
My apologies to Clement Clark Moore, who wrote the original poem. But Christmas at the Power Exchange will do that to you. Warp you, I mean. Because apart from a handful of people wearing Santa hats, there is really nothing Christmas-y about the party they call Sexmas.
Not that anyone minds. You can call it Sexmas, or Spanksgiving, or any of the holiday-theme names for sex parties, but they're all just excuses to get together, get naked or have fun.
Good Vibrations put on a "Kinky Circus" as its holiday ball at the DNA Lounge.
There was a burlesque show, go-go dancers shaking it atop the speakers and a sexy "traptease" act with two women performing stunts on long clotheslines.
There were aphrodisiac hors d'oeuvres and kinky martinis served at the bar.
Adult movies played on the big screen as men in thongs and women in leather corsets filled the dance floor. The placed was packed. Hot and sweaty and erotically charged. Women led men by leashes; nearly everyone wore leather, something revealing or both.
The Power Exchange on Otis Street showed its holiday spirit by conducting an oral sex contest.
Seven women and one man demonstrated their skills on an array of sex toys. The winner -- a talented, creative and very popular woman -- walked away with $300. Second and third took home $200 and $100, respectively.
The evening kicked off at 10 p.m. It started slowly, as usual. The place starts picking up at around 11 p.m. The contest, which is held monthly on the one day the Power Exchange holds its fetish ball and opens all floors to all people, began shortly after midnight.
The place really rocks from about 1 to 3 a.m. The party starts to die off around 4 in the morning. Doors close at 6 a.m.
The Power Exchange is the biggest and boldest public sex club in San Francisco, and probably all of Northern California. There are a lot of smaller clubs that cater to one gender, or kink or fetish. There are a lot of private clubs that are more focused, and maybe more sexual.
But the Power Exchange is open to everyone: straights, gays, bisexuals, transgendered people, singles, couples, triads, people into bondage and discipline, voyeurs, exhibitionists and masturbators. And more. That's just what you see walking through once.
There are four huge floors. The top floor is normally reserved for gay men. The third floor is for couples only on Fridays and Saturdays. The main floor and basement dungeon area are for anyone.
All floors have open spaces as well as smaller, private areas where people get together. Some people watch all the shenanigans for a while, then find a private room to do what they do. Others have sex right out in the open.
Teenage operator
"I heard a lot of stories about this place," said one woman, a beautiful brunette with smoky eyes, who went to the Power Exchange for the first time Saturday night. "It's nothing like I imagined. I like it."
The place is run by a guy who's not old enough to buy a beer: Josh Powers, the 18-year-old son of owner Mike Powers. Mike keeps his eye on Josh, makes sure he's running the place right, more or less, and spends the rest of the time playing with his friends. Saturday night found him with two women in the office/VIP lounge.
"How, show 'em your tongue," he said to one of the women. She rolled out a tongue that would make Gene Simmons green with envy.
Josh said he's trying to make the Power Exchange a better, nicer, cleaner sex club. It has had a reputation for being dirty, the kind of place "with sticky floors," Josh said. The Power Exchange's own forum has many postings from people -- mostly women -- who have complained about the cleanliness of the place and the overall unappealing decor.
Young Powers has brought in more cleanup people, bought newer, nicer furniture and painted over some of the rooms.
The place still has a ways to go. You can find that chlorine-cleaner-over- human-effluvia smell in some areas. Some spaces are more appealing than others, and the Power Exchange is definitely cleaner and nicer today than it was earlier this year.
But for a lot of people, the attraction of the Power Exchange is the raw, open sexuality of the place.
Shontay doesn't discriminate
Shontay came a little late. She's been ill lately, but usually she goes every weekend.
She calls herself the "top f -- ."
"I can do whatever I want to do when I'm here," she said. "I just walk around naked and have sex with anybody."
Shontay said she doesn't discriminate. She has sex with about five guys on a typical night and she has no qualms about height, weight, age or looks.
"I like all guys," she said. "Everybody knows me here."
As we talked, a man walked into the VIP lounge wearing a T-shirt with a sign: "Plays well with self."
Cheryl, a statuesque brunette, has been working at the Power Exchange for about four years. She does whatever needs doing at the club -- working the front desk, walking the floor to make sure everyone practices safe sex.
"I like working nights, I like people I work with, I like the people who come here," she said.
"I'm all for a sex-positive environment and this is it," she said. "I remember this one guy who got all freaked out because he got a blow job from a tranny. I said, 'Did you enjoy it?' He said 'yeah,' and that was pretty much it."
Not everyone at the Power Exchange is beautiful or sexy in a Hollywood sense. And that's just fine by Cheryl.
"Nothing is more attractive than seeing someone comfortable with his or her looks," she said. "It takes a lot of balls to walk around naked when you're 300 pounds. But here, you'll be accepted."
People get naked everywhere. People have sex in the open, sometimes surrounded by dozens of men and women. Some put on outrageous sex acts, replaying their favorite scenes from porn movies. In the basement, in the dungeon, women are tied to crosses and whipped. Men are tied up and spanked, or worse.
One of them is a 57-year-old diminutive man who calls himself Stain. He's a bottom, and likes rope bondage.
He's also been coming to the Power Exchange for nine years, ever since it opened. He comes just about every weekend, missing once only because he had to attend his father's funeral.
"I love this place," he said, sitting on a red sofa inside the dungeon. "I can be myself."
"Can I use this on you?"
Christmas means nothing to the regulars at the Power Exchange, he said. People go for the sex, not red hats and decorated trees.
"The best time is Halloween," he said. "That brings everyone. There are so many people in this place, it's like a sauna."
Just then, the woman there for the first time came into the dungeon with her boyfriend, another woman and a small red flogger. She was there to check out everything the Power Exchange had to offer.
"Can I use this on you?" she asked, holding up the flogger.
"No thanks," I said. "I think it's better to give than to receive."
[Edited by Ten Thousand Motels] |
| December 22nd, 2004 10:19 PM |
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| Gazza |
"Josh said he's trying to make the Power Exchange a better, nicer, cleaner sex club. It has had a reputation for being dirty, the kind of place "with sticky floors," Josh said. The Power Exchange's own forum has many postings from people -- mostly women -- who have complained about the cleanliness of the place"
Joey???? |
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