Devon Hunter

Devon,

What was it like when you first danced naked?

- C

Hello  C!

Well, there are different firsts. When I first danced in any state of undress at all (back in those innocent beginning days – HA!), I was standing backstage in a thong on the verge of throwing up. I heard them call my name, and for about three seconds I just stood there (remember: at that time I was still struggling with anorexia), fearing that people would boo, hiss, laugh, etc. After another short breath, I stepped out onto the stage, and got dizzy for about half a moment. But then it passed as I started moving: I fell into performance mode. And then it was fine.

Fast forward to Swinging Richards: That was my first experience with total nudity. Again, I was scared. But not to be naked. It was because the other dancers were so intimidating, not to mention that the manager is gruff. But again, I went into performance mode, and the cold sweat on my palms stopped distracting me. It was liberating, actually.

The next first was Secrets. Not only are you nude there, but you have to maintain an erection. I really had zero butterflies. By that point it was no longer a point of anxiety. Actually, I enjoy dancing at Secrets more than Swinging Richards. There’s something oddly satisfying about being able to play with yourself in front of people (which is absolutely not allowed on stage at Richards, at least not once your undies come off). By the end of the night I can’t stand touching my penis anymore. It’s numb.

Anyway, once you get past the initial trepidation, nudity is natural and has a healing effect (at least for me). Being completely “vulnerable” forces you to really know yourself (or to completely retreat behind walls… it’s a rather 50-50 chance you take). Beyond that, the only complaints I have about dancing nude at this point is when the damned clubs crank the A/C. It gets COLD!

Believe it or not, this is the response I got from three different people in D.C. last weekend. I’d asked three people if they’d like to be part of an advertising campaign to promote safe sex. All three rejected me. Two said, “Condoms are so 1985,” and the third said, “Condoms are so 1980′s.” A fourth person finally said “yes,” but I’ve not heard from him since. It had never occurred to me that safe sex was trendy, much less that condoms were connected in some way to fashion. This attitude may explain why D.C. has the highest rate of new HIV infection for 2008 in the United States. Perhaps condoms should be so 2009?

I am trying to help a doctor friend of mine in the capital to get free safe sex kits into various venues throughout the city. We are hoping to generate some new stategies for encouraging safe sex/safer sex alternatives. It is obvious that the standard American model for teaching anything sexual to anybody is a general failure, and I think it’s because the well-intended professionals in this country have done everything possible to make safe sex look like a sterile, dehumanized, anti/non-sexual hassle. Droning on and on about numbers, and threatening people with consequences isn’t working. (Of course it doesn’t help when medicines are advertised showing stunning models.) A different approach is definitely needed.

Dr. Terence Gerace, a medical professional in Washington, D.C., will be exploring options for eroticizing condoms, and will eventually be producing videos that allow users of his website, www.fc-kits.org, to interact in creative ways with the multimedia that will eventually be added to the site. (Just a head’s up: I plan to interview Dr. Gerace soon, so don’t be surprised when you see his name come up again). If you are interested in being part of this project, check out www.fc-kits.org and contact the site administrators.

There are going to be some changes to the blog in the coming weeks. I announce this here in this particular entry, because it is connected to what is happening behind the scenes in D.C. I may be exploring a new avenue of adult entertaiment. One that has, at its core, a philosophy that is not like any other I’ve heard of or seen. Not to be cryptic, but I may have some big announcements about the direction of my career by the end of this summer.

Neither. I don’t care for the terms. If I use them at all, it’s only so that I don’t have to always explain myself. I also don’t care for masculine/feminine, active/passive, and man-in-the-relationship/woman-in-the-relationship. Although the terms are somewhat clinical, they are also accurate and devoid of implicit value judgements: I prefer the terms insertive and receptive.

Top/Bottom are highly problematic terms for me. The outright judgement contained within them make me a tad angry. Plus they’re completely inaccurate, at least in any instance where the people in question have enough creativity to move beyond the missionary position. Also, exactly how much does it flatten a person to one dimension when you ask “Are you a top or a bottom?” as if the response to this should carry all sorts of extended implications about relationship role, identity, mannerisms, and interests. (“I’m a bottom, but I play sports!” Mhm… fuck you for apologizing.) Because they are black/white terms, the gray areas have to be covered by the laughable term “versatile” (as in a tool? Is that what you mean?), so that further distinctions can be made (and I find it’s the “bottom” men who generally feel obligated to reaffirm their masculinity with this word “versatile,” in order to not be “demeaned” for being primarily “bottom” in the first place).

Masculine/Feminine is so frought with problems that I’m not even going to begin to dissect them as terms. Many scholars have already done this ad nauseum for the last 40 years or more. Go ask Judith Butler her thoughts on the construction of gender.

Active/Passive are just as annoying to me as top/bottom. Give me a damn break. The only people who could possibly think this is an accurate description of sexual roles are the people who’ve never experienced both. If you actually believe that the “bottom”/”woman-in-the-relationship” isn’t completely engaged by the sex act, then you’re either insensitive, ignorant, or stupid. Again, man/woman-in-the-relationship carries far too many ridiculous assumptions to be terms I can use.

The insertive partner, whether biologically male or female, is exactly that: The person who is inserting. The receptive partner, whether biologically male or female, is exactly that: The person who is receiving. (How much of a brain fuck does it become when I mention seeing a picture yesterday of two men fisting each other simultaneously? Who’s the “top/bottom” in THAT scenario? Hm? God I love gender theory!) Neither role is given more power with these terms. I don’t think I need to address in much detail the preference generally afforded to the insertive partner; however, I would like to take some time with the receptive role and its inherent power.

To receive, to hold, to welcome, to envelop, to surround, to cradle, to embrace, to squeeze… These are not passive actions. These are active actions. And I would argue that it takes far more strength of character, psyche, and even physical strength to endure being entered than inserting, entering, introducing, poking, stabbing, or pummeling do. Taking it out of the gay world for a minute: If a woman’s womb can bear a child, exactly WHAT does a man’s penis do that is anywhere in the same realm of strength, endurance, care, or investment? Men fall out from a kidney stone. Hell, men fall out from colds… I know I do. I’m a total wimp.

I must sound like an angry power bottom fairy guerilla homo commie pinko bastard. I’m not. Another reason I have difficulty with the top/bottom question is because it depends so much on my mood and where I am in my life. When I was a neonate, yes I was 100% receptive. My sexuality evolved and for several years I was split even 50-50. For a year or so I was 100% insertive. Right now I would have to say I’m somewhere between 75-25 and 67-33 leaning insertive. That will continue to change and evolve.

Ultimately I don’t see the point of being a gay man and not enjoying both roles. We are, sexually speaking, in a position (excuse the pun) to be the only people on the planet to truly know the joy of both. Women can be empowered by and enjoy various types of insertive activity, but they’ll never have a penis. Straight men who are afraid of their assholes will never enjoy fully what their bodies are capable of. It’s amazing for us homos to have that one advantage over everyone else. It makes me sad that so many people in our community cling so tenaciously to heteronormative sex roles. I personally think any gay man who is a total top or a total bottom is a total drag, because he isn’t open to experiencing the real joy that is a gay man’s sexuality, and he is often invested too much in a series of value systems that are incompatible with his sexuality (whether he realizes it or not).

Remember this: You may be penetrating me, but I am enveloping you. And I would want it to be a true vice versa. I do not in any way enjoy the idea of being the insertive partner, and feeling as if the person with me thinks himself bottom/passive… I don’t want to enter him unless he wants to welcome me. I want him there with me and engaged.

So… I guess ultimately what this means is that I don’t fuck. I meld.

There are thousands of types of touch. But, for me, they break down into three overarching categories: Subtractive, Neutral, and Additive. If you are going to be an entertainer, you have to be okay with being touched. It’s simply part of the job (unless you’re in one of those bizarre U.S. states where the dancer performs in the middle of a cage/stage with an enclosement of chicken wire that stands as a barracade five feet between the dancer and the patons – in those places the tips are passed through the spaces of the chicken wire, and the dancer can’t collect them until the patron steps back away from the barrier). However, it’s wise to understand that you’re going to need to find balance in being touched. The highest priority: Make sure that your personal boundaries and the laws for your area are both being respected. It’s important to note that your perception of the same touch will be different from moment to moment, depending on a host of circumstances.

Subtractive Touch

When you are touched in such a manner that it costs you more than the tip you are gaining, you are losing something within yourself. You will know Subtractive Touch almost immediately. It makes you feel uncomfortable, ashamed, distressed, or humiliated. Perhaps it causes you pain as well. Possibly worse: It makes you feel absolutely “nothing” (but not in a neutral manner). When all is said and done, Subtractive Touch makes you feel less than. I would guess that approximately 10 percent of the touching I experience in an average night is Subtractive. Some nights are better, others are worse. Generally, these touches get temporarily balanced out by the preponderance of Neutral Touch and the covalent Additive Touch. Real problems can come up pretty fast on the nights when this isn’t the case.

Neutral Touch

In a rough estimate, I would say 80 percent of the touches in an evening are Neutral: They do not please or offend me. They require only as much time and attention as the value of the tip they entail. And they are completed without any regret or celebration. They simply are what they are: A transaction. Here are your onion rings, that will be $1.79. The problem with Neutral Touch is that it is repetitive. It is connected to the largest part of your earnings, which is good, but it is also numbing, which is bad.

It is important to find ways to rejeuvenate your senses throughout your shift, so that you do not become zombie-like. Once at Swinging Richards a patron had his hand cupping my testicles for a good 60 seconds or more while we were talking about politics before I realized it was happening: “Your hand is on my balls.” “Yep.” “How long has it been there?” “Oh, nearing a minute, I suppose.” “Wow… You are going to tip me eventually, right?” (One of the stupidest dollars I ever earned. LOL… click dont-touch-those for a funny wav file: NOT SAFE FOR WORK) That’s a good example of what not to allow Neutral Touch to become. In most all instances, however, Neutral Touch is polite, discreet, respectful, and superficially flattering. It can teeter over into Negative if not properly managed.

Additive Touch

This is absolutely essential. You really must experience enough Additive Touch to completely balance the Subtractive and to enliven the Neutral. As with Subtractive, about 10 percent of the touch I experience in a shift makes me feel attractive, strong, genuinely appreciated, and complemented beyond simple flattery. It is important to note, however, that if you do not get enough restoration while at work, you really must find a means to get it from some other source.

I will admit it candidly: My feelings get hurt very easily. I am not thick-skinned. I need more than 10 percent Additive Touch to renew me. I also workout 2-4 times each week for 45-75 minutes/session. I don’t exercise alot, but I exercise intensely. These two issues together mean that I can reasonably “justify” a particular “splurge” that I am nearly absolutely committed to: I get a 60/120-minute massage once a week from my friend Ron, who has one of the most gifted healing touches I’ve ever experienced.

There are other types of Additive Touch. If you have a lover or someone whom you trust, let that person put hands on you in a non-sexual but intimate manner. Perhaps they will let you lay back, and will simply stroke your face with the backs of their fingers while you listen to soft music? Or maybe they put one hand over your heart and another over your navel with essential oils? It is important to allow yourself to experience this type of healing, so that your body/mind/heart/soul does not connect all physical contact to something sexual (which is completely inaccurate/inapproptiate in most instances outside of your shift).

Additive Touch puts gas in your tank, so to speak. It airs out your house. Think of whatever Additive Touch you get beyond work as a vitamin that nourishes you. If the hundreds or thousands of touches you experience in a week/weekend are the repetitions and sets you do at the gym, then the massage/friendly hand holding/hugs from Mom that you take in during the off hours is the supplement that feeds your system.

A final suggestion, for your Additive Touch therapy: When you do have sex, try to make it as organic (but safe), passionate, and emotionally invested (even if only temporarily) as possible. You don’t want to hurt someone else in the process of healing yourself, so if necessary make it clear that although the sex you are about to have may rupture the time-space continuum, it isn’t anything that it isn’t. You don’t want to lead someone down the wrong path if you aren’t feeling residually more than you are momentarily, but you also do not want your entire sexuality to devolve into a series of automatic, mechical actions. Live succulently!

In all honesty, most women at clubs ignore me completely: I’m shorter than most dancers, I’m nowhere near as aggressive or shadowy (which girls at male strip clubs seem to want more than the nice guys they can see anytime at home), and I make no secret of the fact that I’m gay. I understand completely why I would be invisible to most women at a strip club – there’s really no fantasy that they might seduce me. But every once in a while I will inadvertently charm the ladies. This is becoming more common as I gain muscle mass (because I’ve gradually, over the last several months, become more and more mistaken for heterosexual – it happened three times Friday night and twice on Saturday). Passing for straight isn’t my goal or my priority, but it can be fun playing with people’s expectations, now that presumption doesn’t sit at 100 percent.

There were three women sitting at the bar. Everything I did titillated them. I actually enjoyed this, because I absolutely love women. When I finally came around to them, so that they could talk to me and tip me, they were lovely. Once I was actually there in front of them, two of the three were reluctant to touch me at first. It was taboo, I suppose. The married one had no trouble at all. I thought this was especially marvelous. They liked my ass, biceps, and abs in particular.

“Oh my God! You make me want to go home and fuck my husband!”

“Well… that’s my job.” (I didn’t really know how to respond to this, since I don’t get a chance to chat with girls much at work.)

“It’s too bad you don’t like me.”

“I do like you!”

“It’s too bad you don’t want to fuck me.” (Aha! They do know I’m gay!)

“Susan, I will respect you more than any man you will ever meet.” (Said very coyly with a wink as I kissed her hand.)

“Oh, damn… Respect me some other time!”

I love my work.