“The first thing I noticed about the sex party wasn’t the sex. It was the costumes: a man in a cape of fluttering butterflies, a bald man in a red tutu and diamond-studded fishnets, a woman with gold chains in her hair and vines down her back.”
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I went to a sex party last week.
If you’re like me, you imagine it as something your super cool friends do in the penthouses of New York, with models and movie producers and musicians all there.
(I read a NYC journalist’s Substack once and that’s what he said, so that’s what’s lived in my mind ever since).
I got it as a high-level concept, but how did things actually work?
Was it just a party but then if you wanted you could have sex with someone right there? (Like RIGHT THERE?)
Were people gonna be having sex just anywhere, or was there a specific place…?
How do you initiate things happening? Eye contact? Direct ask? Get after it and see what happens? Or maybe the option was there but no one actually did it?
I had many questions and I was nervous and also excited. This felt like something out of a movie. I was going to a sex party!!!
The Costumes
It was Dungeons and Dragons themed, and because I had no idea what to expect I ended up going dressed like this. A runaway queen with a whole little backstory (in case that’s how people started conversations? Maybe we’d be in character?).
I was trying to avoid a Mean Girls Halloween situation by riding a fine line of appropriately slutty. Long sleeves, floor-length dress, thigh-high slit - I had my bases covered for every situation I could think of.
My friend and I arrived at the venue and even from the line-up outside, you could already see horns and capes and swords and face paint. It reminded me of that scene from Star Wars with the intergalactic bar, every person unique.
Among the many costumes: a man dressed all in black with a cape of fluttering butterflies, a bald man in a red tutu and diamond-studded fishnets, a woman in a backless dress with gold chains and leafy vines for straps.
There were all kinds of gender and identity expressions, from playful to sexy to otherworldly. That ended up being one of my favourite parts of the night - seeing how fully expressed everyone was, how the costume was a vehicle for being whoever you wanted to be, and showing that to the world. And how FUN that was!
The Venue
Inside, we stepped into a glow-in-the-dark dungeon-themed room.
There was a DJ, a stage, a big papier-mâché moon hanging from the sky (and a big papier-mâché dick hanging right beside it), a table for tarot readings, DND-related props everywhere, and signs that said to “unequip your foot slots” and go barefoot. Everything cheeky and playful.
For the more adventurous there was the fungeon (a “dungeon” with a selection of impact toys), a pillow lounge (for hanging out and making out), a play area (where people have sex), and an observation deck where you could see into the play area (for those who wanted to watch but not participate).
On Consent
When the doors closed the hosts gathered everyone to go through some house rules around consent. TL;DR, you need to be clear in asking and giving consent when touching/being touched.
There were also cue cards throughout the rooms with examples of what to say to initiate conversation, turn someone down, handle a rejection gracefully, etc.
It’s funny - I used to roll my eyes at the suggestion that someone should ask for consent to kiss me at the end of a date. Like, just read the room man. And if you make a move that I don’t like, I’ll take care of myself. It’s fine.
I guess my expectation when going out dancing is that someone is always going to stand too close to me, or put their hand on my lower back, or start talking directly into my ear with their face almost touching mine. And it’s my job to always be on guard and protect myself against that.
But this party changed my perspective.
Even though I was in a brand new environment, surrounded by half-naked people, where having sex in the play room was totally an option, the emphasis on consent made me feel safe and at ease. It was the difference between “something’s gonna happen unless I stop it” vs. “nothing’s going to happen unless I want it to.”
And I never realized the weight of that until I didn’t have to carry it anymore.
Later on in the night, I’d get to see it in action up close and personal…
The Night
Opening remarks and drag show over, we hit up the bar. I was on antibiotics and not drinking that night, so I stuck to kombucha. I didn’t mind. I wanted to see how I’d experience everything sober.
My first order of business was scoping out the crowd. Aside from the incredible costumes and energy, were there any cute single guys here? Were sex parties even a thing that single, non-poly guys went to? Unclear.
We checked out the different rooms, passing the pillow lounge and the play area and the fungeon where a naked man was being flogged by three women. Not knowing whether it was weird to look for too long, we quickly moved on.
On our tour, I started catching glimpses of a tall, handsome, bare-chested barbarian man with a black pelt around his shoulders. He was always passing through a room we’d just entered, on his way to somewhere else.
When we made it back to the dance floor, he was there, dancing like a devil in the spotlight. Arms, fur, whirling to the music, completely unabashed.
My friend and I danced in the middle of the throng, me watching him, her waiting for her turn at the tarot table. Her name was finally called and as she left, I noticed the man had once again disappeared.
Too bad, I thought.
As I turned around to go do a lap of the floor, I spotted him again.
Walking straight towards me. Eyes on mine.
You know how you can tell when someone is coming up to you to chat, and when they’re coming up to you with intent?
Yeah.
AhhhhhhHHHH, I thought, looking up at him.
I can’t remember a word of the conversation except that it took about 15 seconds until he mentioned he was here with his wife.
AhhhhhhHHHHHH, I thought again, for different reasons this time.
He was still talking, still looking at me with that same focus. But he was here with his wife? What was I supposed to do with that?
I looked desperately at the back of my friend’s head, waiting for her to finish her reading so she could come and save me from whatever was happening here.
“SO THIS IS MY FRIEND” I interrupted the second I saw she was done, frantically waving her over. She gracefully jumped into the conversation and we chatted for a few minutes before the man excused himself to go get his own reading done.
“He’s here with his wife, but… it’s a sex party? And he was giving very strong vibes? Do I assume it’s like… an open thing?” I asked her as we moved to the pillow lounge (and unequipped our foot slots). We grabbed a couch to chat on while people made out on either side of us.
She told me the only way to know was to ask and I promptly decided that was not something I’d be doing. We caught up on life, then fell into easy conversation with someone beside us.
Then the hot guy appeared again, this time with his wife.
We waved them both over (me, aggressively friendly to show how nonchalant I was about the whole situation) and they joined us on the couch. We chatted about their costumes, what other events they’d been to, what we thought of our tarot readings (I was the only hater in our group).
And then they said they were going to the observation deck and asked if we wanted to come.
AhhhhHHHHH. This would be the first real “sex” part of the night and I had no idea how I’d feel about it.
Well. Only one way to find out.
We all relocated there to watch the show, the guy and his wife grabbing a spot to stretch out and cuddle while my friend and I sat on a few pillows.
From where we were sitting, there was roughly 3 feet of space and one sheer bedsheet separating us from two people having full on, enthusiastic sex on a towel-covered mattress.
What I thought would be a bizarre situation—being surrounded by half-naked people straddling each other and making out, trying to figure out what the guy’s situation with his wife was, and watching two people fuck in real life— was actually very chill. It was all just very normal.
I thought seeing people having sex right in front of me would make me feel… something.
Awkward? Uncomfortable? Turned on?
Instead, it felt like going to a bar with some friends and watching a live band. Most of the time you’re chatting, and occasionally you pause to watch the music—or, in this case, the people fucking. You notice, you nod appreciatively, and then you carry on with your conversation.
It didn’t have a creepy vibe (another concern of mine), and nobody was weird about it.
Eventually the wife got up, letting us know that she was going to the dance floor. A quiet little handoff that made it clear she was giving the guy space to explore with his new friends.
I saw it and understood.
He kissed her and came to join us, calm and confident, like this was always how the night was meant to go. It was the same energy he’d approached me with earlier.
After a bit of small talk, most of it spent looking intently at me, he finally asked, “So what are you looking for tonight?”
Ah. There it is. This was a game I knew how to play.
I immediately started not answering: “I’m not sure, I just wanted to come have the experience. I’ve never been to something like this before.”
The game was not to be cornered into an answer until he admitted what he wanted.
My friend jumped in smoothly. “What about you? What did you want to experience tonight?” she asked him.
“Meet some people, make out a little, see where the night goes,” he answered mildly, still looking at me.
I nodded, holding his gaze but not saying anything. Silence to force his next move.
“Do you want to play with me?” he finally asked. His voice was a steady and open invitation, no hint of shyness or uncertainty.
Gotcha.
“What would that look like?” I asked, sly as a fox and innocent as a weasel.
“We could start with a kiss,” he said.
I agreed, and that’s how I ended up making out in the pillow lounge with the hottest guy in the room.
Every time he wanted to escalate things, he’d check in with me and ask, “Can I kiss your neck? Can I touch your waist? How are you feeling?” I did the same, copying his questions.
He’d pause and look into my eyes each time, in what I thought was a joking way until I noticed how serious he was about checking in with me.
Just as I was trying to decide how far I wanted things to go (what if he invited me to the play area with him?), his wife returned. He pulled away from me, a cloud of red lipstick smeared from his chin to his nose.
“Hey, I’m gonna go. Join me soon okay?” she said lightly, unbothered by the lipstick. He nodded, she wished us all a good night then left.
A few minutes later, he pulled away from me. “Is it okay if we stop here?” he asked. Again, with the weight of a serious question that was looking for a serious answer.
I nodded, relieved to be spared my decision and surprisingly sad that this strange little moment in time was ending. It felt fleeting, like a bubble that had floated in front of me and burst before I could decide whether I wanted to reach out and touch it.
I found my friend chatting with someone else nearby. We spent a little more time hanging out, hit the dance floor for a few more songs, then headed home around 2am.
And that was the sex party.
It took a while for me to sort out how I felt after I left.
There was the fun and excitement of finding attraction and acting on it. And there was also the confusion of knowing that while the connection was real in the moment - I felt seen and desired and cared for - there was nothing possible outside of it. And that brief connection could exist only because of those limitations.
It’s funny how the “sex” part of “sex party” ended up being the least impactful thing.
What stuck with me was this:
When anything is possible—when you can be whoever you want, dress however you want, connect however you want—what do you choose? Who do you become?
Thanks for reading.
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Warmly yours,
Nina
Sounds like a fun night. If you want to experience more vivid/free flowing, try it in europe. Just like everything else in europe..these parties are also more authentic and tasty 😉