Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Five Dollar Foot Long - Party 2

Five Dollar Foot Long, or Derek, is an exotic dancer, part-time dom, and personal trainer - not exactly in that order. Is he really a foot-long? No, but the level of pride and attention that he gives his penis would make you think it must be. To his credit, it is about 8 inches (pull out a ruler, as I am not inflating to fit the normal scale used in everyday reporting) and has a hefty girth. For that, I applaud him.

Now that I think about it, I'm not positive as to how tall he is. I was standing at about 5'10" in my heels, and he never once took off his custom cowboy boots. There's no way he hits 6 feet, but I can't be much more accurate than that as of now. He's heavily muscled, and that is no exaggeration. His body ripples in all the right places, and his presence, along with the equally impressive Paul, led to another man saying, "I didn't realize that workout regimens were part of the requirements for these parties." They were all visibly uncomfortable with his presence at first. Well, except for Daddy W, who's 27-year-old girlfriend only has eyes for him.

Eventually, if you keep looking, you hit the face. Just like the rest of his body, it has been primped and preened to the fullest extent - including the dying of his soul patch and eyebrows to match his unnaturally jet black hair. Hair that is blown straight up to slightly resemble Derek Zoolander (not kidding, as it's part of his act, and the reason for his name).

Now Derek is one of the only regulars that I had actually been told about beforehand. At a previous party, he happened to have the hostess sucking him off within 15 minutes of the start. She happened to be the only hostess that night, and never quite got herself back to her post. Mark mentions this story often to me and everyone else. It's supposed to be a lesson in "what not to do," but it happens to just be one of many stories that he repeatedly tells about Derek. There's something about the way that Mark talks about the exploits of his customers. I haven't quite figured out whether he takes pride in their conquests, or if he's propagandizing, or simply filling space. Perhaps it's all of those things.

And these parties are not the only connection that Derek and Mark have. Turns out that they work together to put on private BDSM shows. Derek finds the client interested in voyeurism and Mark finds the girl (sub) to join Derek as part of the act. Derek actually saves head shots of the girls he's worked with, and Paul and I got a flip-through of his iPhone collection after the party. The majority of them are referred to as, "sweet girls" or "sexy little things." From what I can tell, they're all in their 20's and tend to look Eastern European. I actually catch myself thinking about how I'm probably not a candidate for his shows. Not quite sure whether that hurts my pride or not.

If Derek is anything, though, he is the party ring-leader. He brings his own music, supplies his own dildos, and directs women and men alike around the bed with quite the facility. He also serves as a motivator, both through encouragement and praise. "That's hot. You're doing great, girl," he says as he watches a girl sucking off her boyfriend. He encourages Paul to go harder with Alicia, tells Lily that she's doing an amazing job on Billy's dick, and gets Tim to take his shirt off rather than just stand in the corner. With his direction, the party is a bit like a well-oiled machine. The parts move, rotate, switch - all as he stands at the side of the bed.

And the side of the bed was really where he liked to stay. As I run through my mental pictures of his night, not a single one contains him actually having penis-in-vagina sex. He almost always had a mouth suction cupped to himself or a dildo in hand, but there is not one moment I can remember in which he stuck it in. Even with the dildos, they were always inserted in the ass (covered with a condom). I wonder what it is about sex that halts him. Is it the fact that he has to be active in that scenario? That he's giving pleasure? Is it a personal hangup? Were the girls not attractive enough? Was tonight just not the night?

But, like I said, he had no problem with blow jobs, and with blow jobs he was once again the man with the plan. Women sat cross-legged next to the bed, turned towards him, and he took over from there. With his hands placed at the back of their head, he guided it back and forth, side-to-side. When he needed a change, he often pulled his dick out of their mouth and tapped it multiple times across their face. Otherwise he'd pull his dick to the side, turn the girl's head, and sit his balls on her lips until she took them into her mouth. "You like that?" he would often say, or, "That's right, take it." And take it, they did. Alicia in particular was a repeat offender.

When the party started to come to a close, the regulars stuck around to chit-chat and help clean up. For Derek, this meant a summary of all of the other people at the party.

"You see Daddy W and his chick? Goes to show what money will get you. She's beautiful, and he's got a 2 inch dick. That's what girls are like though, they want the attention, or they want the mind fuck. I just don't get it."

"That Lily could suck a dick."

"What was up with that couple? 'You can stick it in her, but only in her butt?' That's about the opposite of what I would do."

"Those two on the bench? Man they were boring, and his dick was tiny as fuck."

"You did that Brazilian chick? Dude, she was good to go! Hot thing. She still upstairs? Would she do me too? You said her guy likes to watch. Call him."

"I told Tim he needs to buy different underwear."

Before he left, I got my 10th ass slap of the night and a wink, and then got to watch those boots walk out the door.

What struck me the most throughout the night was just how much I wasn't attracted to Derek. When he said sexy things to the women of the party, I generally laughed. When he made advances, I didn't find it hard at all to play hard to get. (Paul, on the other hand, was much harder to fend off.) I was overwhelmed and turned off by this constant impression of false bravado. It was if I was watching a play that he had convinced himself was reality, despite all evidence to the contrary. I've since wondered if sex parties are really the perfect venue for men that have this quality. Those men that spend hours in the gym, hours on their hair, and buy tattoo-laden t-shirts and custom boots. The men that keep their exterior perfect, perhaps in hopes that you don't scratch the surface. A sex party, the gym, Derek's gig as a dancer - these are all areas in which he's valued for the presentation of himself, as opposed to anything more substantial.

Whatever the case, I hope to see him again, and I'm almost positive I won't be disappointed.

Up next... Paul Bunyan, Shiver Me Timbers!

- Amanda

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