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Exotic Erotic Report   by Molly Mounds

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San Francisco's much-ballyhooed Exotic Erotic Ball overtook the Bay Area for two nights just before Halloween, filling a cavernous venue to the bursting point with flesh, fetish, fantasy...and a whole lot of stripper shoes.

Billed as the #1 wildest and sexiest party in the country, the Ball has grown to legendary proportions - a far cry from its humble beginnings in founder Perry Mann's Tenderloin apartment in 1979.

And this year's installment was ushered in with plenty of pre-Ball controversy, complete with yet another embarrassment for San Fran mayor Gavin Newsom, who winds up knee deep in scandals almost as often as Ron Jeremy winds up knee deep in porn stars. Newsom's office issued a proclamation to headlining performer Snoop Dogg (who donated his performance to raise funds for a non-profit group for children who died from gun violence) and then promptly revoked said proclamation mere hours later.







Snoop, however, was unfazed and offered up an inspired, ghetto-fabulous performance on Friday night, mixing in some newer songs with his famed old-school classics. In true ghetto superstar fashion, Snoop hoisted a microphone blinged out in what must be thousands of dollars of diamonds, and ushered out a stampede of nearly naked hotties to shake it on stage. One particularly inspired girl (who was packing an entire junkyard in her trunk) rid herself of her pesky bra and proceeded to shake her thong-clad asscheeks so hard it registered a 2.5 on the Richter scale. Now that is a good time, folks.

But Friday was naught but a warm up for the main event of Saturday's Ball, wherein literally thousands of hypersexed and horny guys roamed alongside pornstars, strippers, furries, dommes, subs, a shocking number of clowns...and Danny Bonaduce. A veritable seventh circle of sin, hedonism reigned supreme. Plus, everyone was pretty much shitfaced by 10 p.m. ‒ as indicated by the trail of feathers, glitter and puke in the women's bathroom.







Other than watching the random bits of play going on (ranging from orchestrated beatings by performers to very impromptu public gropings by attendees) perhaps the most amusing part of the evening entailed watching drunk girls in skimpy cop outfits slip and fall in their sky-high fuck-me pumps. Note on official etiquette: it's only acceptable to laugh after they get back up, unharmed. Ladies! Unless you're a seasoned professional, leave the stripper heels to the strippers - gravity is not your friend, nor is Jack Daniels. Remember, friends don't let friends drink and prance around in 7-inch stilettos!

Highlights included the various naughty adult wares in the vendors room, electrosexual singer Peaches (backed by vaudevillian contortionists Vau De Vire) the always-entertaining Mini-KISS (a midget KISS cover band), and the utterly graceful and agile pole performers Gravity Plays Favorites out of St. Louis.







However, the pièce de résistance of the entire Ball was clearly the VIP room, an eye-popping Bacchanalian delight orchestrated by Kinky Salon (one half of which is Adult FriendFinder's own sexy swingers columnist, Princess Polly). Truly a smorgasbord of sin, the VIP lounge included extremely naughty elves and a saucy Santa (insert North Pole innuendo here), sultry burlesque and cabaret, suggestive mini-golf, flailing semi-naked savage girls, and an endless array of lascivious eye candy.

We can't wait to see what they have in store for next year.