Some of them were already kissing passionately in the small enclosed booths. It was a younger crowd, mostly couples in their 20s and 30s, mingled and chatted. Thankfully, prosecco at the venue was only about £6, so I knocked back a few glasses for Dutch courage (despite being warned ‘not to drink and kink’). I’m certainly no prude, having licked my fair share of peanut butter in my time, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to react at seeing so much sex in such an enclosed, magnified setting. The top-secret location of the ball was released the day before the event, and so I trekked with trepidation to the North East London nightclub with a sick feeling of nerves gnawing at my stomach. I can tell you which is better Read More Stories I've had sex 5 times a night and less than once a week. I was grateful that it was ‘essential’ that we had to wear a mask, so at least my face was mostly disguised. Anyway, any attempt to look sexy was straight out the window, as an enflamed tendon on my little toe meant I had to wear a thick white bandage, which bulged through my strappy gold heels. I knew I wasn’t going to have sex at the party – I had a boyfriend – and instead kept telling myself this was for research, that I was Louis Theroux with his wry smile at the orgy.Ĭhoosing something white to wear proved difficult – I had nothing particularly sex party friendly, so I opted for an off-cream jumpsuit that I’ve worn to job interviews. We were expected to wear white (‘To hide stains?’ a particularly crude voice said in my head as I spooled through the details). The rules also stressed this was a formal, classy affair, where you were expected to be dressed appropriately or face being turned away at the door. Sex parties are becoming more popular in recent years with a younger crowd (Picture: Getty Images)
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