By Rebecca Bulnes
By Laurie Charles
By Chuck Strouse
By Lee Zimmerman
By Laurie Charles
By Falyn Freyman
By Hans Morgenstern
Clubbed has never witnessed so much breast-suckling and leg-humping under one roof before. A little patience has revealed that the A list indeed came to get on down . . .
Voyeurs leer at the spectacles scattered around this den of desire. Everyone is respectful, either tending to their own business (with their partners) or dancing off the stimulation in rivulets of deferred lust. A fresh group of women look around, suggesting with their eyes that they, too, are ready to break all the commandments -- or most of them.
The smaller, more quaint hip-hop and lounge area is where DJ Chucky Brown provides a soundtrack for the more sordid activities that take place. Never have the words of the Snoop D-O-double-G seemed so prophetic: "Yo, we got chicks in the living room gettin' it on!" Hey, he's right! We are at the Living Room and chicks are getting it on.
Mr. Skin himself, Michael Veneziano, sees to it that only the best of the best eye-catchers gain entrance to this private soiree. He claims that what makes this party such a success is the elitist way in which he organizes it. No plumpers or Kiwanis Club members gain entrance, even as voyeurs. Only the finest flesh fare well in this fantasy, and that includes audience.
There are no secret passwords or weird classical music, Tom Cruise characters or funny costumes. But what presents is body after body melding together to create something Satan himself might get a stand for. Decadence has new meaning here. High rollers have come to taste the forbidden fruits, and Clubbed means taste them. Couples merge in the VIP sections to exchange cell phone #'s and addresses. Then, poof! It's off to somewhere more discreet. Private homes or nearby hotel suites await. See, no "on premise" sex takes place here per se. But just about everything you can imagine leading up to sex is in full motion. This helps Michael to insist that Skin is not a swingers' party.
"Well, the clientele is certainly better looking and younger."
"And I am more selective. Don't forget that. And I keep single men out."
"Hey man, that bed is rockin' over there!"
"I made that this afternoon."
What he's referring to is a centerpiece that is the literal "hotbed" of activity here in the Living Room. Four women and two men have taken to the beautiful, white canopied bed and proceed to put on a show for the lookers-on. One of the girls -- gone wild -- has mounted a lucky fellow, turning him into her willing steed. She begins to simulate sex while straddling and grinding away at his pelvis. The group engaged in this pseudo-orgy receives a round of applause from their peers as the night continues to get wilder. "The bed looks like it's getting a lot of use and holding up quite well," Michael laughs.
Like a proud father he beams at his creation -- a monthly adult playground. He has managed to cut out the frills of regular nightlife and get right to the chore of its lure. Sex, beauty, sex and more sex. The attractive play in this safe world of unbridled pleasure and tease at it with their wildest desires. The outside club scene may toy with dancing this forbidden dance, but here at Skin, all flesh, all fantasy, is revealed.