; What Going To A Sex Club Is Actually Like | Betches

What Going To A Sex Club Is Actually Like

For the past, say, decade of my life, the idea of sex clubs has tantalized my brain. Whether it was watching parts of Eyes Wide Shut when my mom thought I was asleep, or devouring every piece of Fifty Shades like the basic betch I am, something about kinky sex has always fascinated me. And the most interesting kink of all was the sex club.

As someone who is jealous 98% of the time, it made zero sense for me to hit up one of these places. I can’t handle confrontation, comparisons, or situations where my self-confidence will be tested in the slightest. Why did I go, then? The same reason anyone would: My husband and I were drunk, bored, and didn’t feel like going out for sushi again. Well, not that kind of sushi, anyway (sorry, mom).

We had no idea what we were getting into, but f*ck it, we were going. So, as a not-so-adventurous woman who recently lost her sex club v-card, I’m here to walk you through the ins and outs of my first time, and how you and your expectations might just be shook. 

Expectation: It Will Be Painfully Awkward Walking In

From ordering the Uber (and most likely dropping the pin a block away so the driver doesn’t know where we’re actually going) to entering the club, the sheer thought of the nerves I’ll feel entering is already making my palms clammy. What do I do with my purse? I probably can’t wear Spanx, right? Will people be naked off the bat? Do we start making out on the dancefloor then go to a room or what? I have absolutely no idea how any of it works, and as someone who studies a restaurant menu for DAYS before actually going to said restaurant, the vast amount of unknowns is the scariest part of all. 

Reality: Awkward Is As Awkward Does

There are two ways to approach this situation: embarrassed awkward or excited awkward. Either way, it’s going to be awkward, but you have the option to make it fun or weird. The Uber ride? Weird. Walking into the club and signing waivers and getting a tour of the nearly-empty facility? Very weird. Being set free post-tour to go to the bar and start flirting with strangers? Very, VERY weird. There’s no denying it—this was way out of my comfort zone. The thing to remember is that it’s strange for everyone the first time (at least, I’m assuming?). Instead of pretending it’s not bizzare, embrace the bizarre. Ask questions. Laugh at the strangeness. The only thing that makes it more uncomfortable is pretending it’s NBD watching real, live strangers hump in front of you for the first time. 

Expectation: I Will Either Be The Most Or The Least Attractive One There

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When I picture my ideal sex club, it involves a lot of people who are between the ages of, say, 22-37 and of the same general attractiveness as I am. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s what we’ll be walking into. First of all, I live in FLORIDA. Second of all, hot, young people are probably too busy being hot and young to spend an ungodly amount of money to watch strangers have sex on a Saturday night. 

After reading reviews of not only the club we’re going to, but every other club in America and a few in Europe, the results are: You have no idea what you’re going to get into (or what’s going to be getting into you, if you know what I mean.). We could walk in and it be all things nose hairs and liver spots, or it could be firm asses and strong abs. My thoughts? Me (a solid 6-8 depending on the day) and my husband (a 10 where it counts) will either be the stars of the freaking show or the stubby outcasts. 

Reality: We Had NOTHING To Worry About

As a couple of twentysomethings in a state where the average age of residents is 42, we could have walked in wearing bags over our heads and still been one of the hottest couples in the room. Like in almost any other situation, the sex club offered a wide variety of people of varying attractiveness. The only difference? As opposed to a normal bar or public event, everyone actually tried their best to look good. With a firm dress code, the population obviously put effort into their appearances. 

Sure, the majority of the guests were in their 30s-50s, but it wasn’t *just* people who saw the invention of the f*cking telegraph there. By going on a big event night (the club’s biggest Christmas party of the year), we figured there’d be at least a few other couples who weren’t covering up grays yet, and luckily we were correct. While, yes, there were a few uncomfortably attractive people in the mix, all in all it was a collection of normal people who were trying their best to look good, which is better than I can say for almost any other situation I’d find myself in on a normal weekend. 

Expectation: It Will Be Expensive AF

Now, obviously, as any closeted type-A could tell you, I know the prices of the club. I know how much it costs on any day for single females, couples, and single males (sucks to be you in this situation, gents). I know how much cover is, I know how much the drinks cost before 10pm, and I know how much they’ll price gouge us once it hits 10:01. F*cking duh. What does this look like, amateur hour? But, there’s still an element of the unknown. Will I feel so uncomfortable that I’ll have to down multiple $15 shots before I can make eye contact with anyone or will I be able to make both sexually AND fiscally responsible decisions?! 

Reality: It Was Expensive AF

I knew the price of cover. I knew the price of the drinks. Hell, I even knew the price of how much the 30-minute Uber would cost to and from the venue. That still did not prepare me for looking at my credit card statement the next morning. My estimated cost for the evening? $175. The actual amount I spent over the course of the evening? Around $350. Between surge pricing, after-drinking munchies, and the fact that I become a shot-buying whore the second liquor hits my lips, the damage was as painful as my post-sex club hangover. 

Expectation: The “Play Areas” Will Be Disgusting

From what I understand about how these places work, there are spaces where the sex happens and there are spaces the sex doesn’t happen. The hookup-free areas are basically like any other bar (loud music, crowded dance floor, sexual tension) and it’s not until you head to the play areas that things really get ~scandalous~. My vision for these areas? A lot of pleather and plastic that will instantly make me wish I brought my own Lysol wipes. Will there be a dungeon with cheap chains and posters of bars on the wall? Sure. Will there be beds with mirrors above them? You betcha. Do I think I’ll be turned on? Not in the slightest.

Reality: Disgusting? No. Weird? Yes

This particular place had two separate areas, the bar and the play areas. While the bar area was like any other bar I’ve ever been to, with pool tables and oldies-stocked jukeboxes, the play areas were unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

It took us a while (and by “a while” I mean a lot of drinks) to build the courage to switch over to the non-bar side, but once we did, we were astounded. Room after room of plush, king-sized beds greeted us, each with a different theme (a space room, a safari room, a fully red room), a mirror on the ceiling, and a window where other people could watch you get it on. Beyond the private rooms were the group rooms complete with, you guessed it, black, pleather couches. So. Many. Black pleather couches. Beyond that? Again, you guessed it: a dungeon with multiple cages, sex swings, chains, and a wall full of things like whips, gags, blindfolds, belts, and clamps. 

The one way it differed from what I expected was how clean it was. Everywhere you looked, hand sanitizer dispensers were mounted on walls, fresh towels were being laid out by polite-yet-detached workers, and the linens on the beds were being changed and the couches were being thoroughly wiped down. On one hand, I didn’t feel like I was going to catch something by accidentally brushing up against an armchair. On the other hand, seeing someone in latex gloves scrub down a chaise lounge after four couples orgasmed all over it was slightly unappealing. Overall, was it hot? Sort of, and also sort of not. 

Expectation: I’ll Be Turning People Down Nonstop

I could expect this to go either way, but in my head, I’m going to be optimistic. As soon as we walk in, a spotlight is going to land on me and the entire bar will let out a soft, slightly sexual gasp. She has arrived and oh, isn’t she perfection? Couples will stampede over to me, tripping on their stripper heels and slipping across the lubed up floor to be the first to talk to me.

With pleasant, knowing smiles, my husband and I will graciously greet our new fans and politely tell them that *giggle* it’s our first time. *Giggle* We’re sex club virgins. We’re just here to observe for now, but we’ll see how the night goes. *Wink.*  From free drinks and shots to private tours of the facility and endless compliments, we’ll be the most sought-after couple, not only that night, but to have ever entered the club.

Reality: “Nonstop” Was A Littleeee Optimistic

Did people hit on me? Yes *hair flip.* Was it nonstop? Not even a little bit. Turns out, the world did not stop turning the moment I crossed the threshold into the latex-scented caves. The thing is, the people at sex clubs are used to other people coming into sex clubs, especially the newbies. While multiple couples and single females came up to us, no one was especially pushy or weird. In fact, it was just like any other situation: Light small talk and downing drinks. The only difference is that after a few minutes people would ask if you wanted to f*ck them. The craziest part? A polite “no thanks” was all it took for them to smile and walk away. REVOLUTIONARY! While it felt a little uncomfortable turning people down at first, in this environment it feels totally safe to ask for sex and to casually say no. Again, REVOLUTIONARY. 

Expectation: The Jealousy Will Be Out Of Control

As stated before, I am, as the French say, “a jealous-ass bitch.” Ever since my first boyfriend in second grade kissed my ex-best friend behind the slide, my trust issues have been out of control. So, the thought of walking around a venue where my husband would not only be looking at other women, but potentially be solicited by said women, seems like a special circle of hell specifically reserved for me. And bonus points? I get to pay for it!!!!

Reality: You Can Be As Cool Or As Jealous As You Want

In almost any situation, if another female so much as brushes against my man, I’ll be right there to casually elbow the bitch away and put my tongue down his throat. I had a feeling this would be the same, except elevated. In reality, removing the weird boundary that we *couldn’t* check out or flirt with other people actually lessened the jealousy. Sure, there was still some, like when the brunette wearing nothing but pasties was talking to my husband about finance for 10 minutes, but in reality, it just made things more exciting. With trust and communication, you got the thrill without the actual risk of cheating. 

Expectation: I’ll Hook Up With Someone

Whether it’s my husband or someone else, that’s kind of the whole point of the place, right? Naturally, we have set up rules before entering this, as any couple who doesn’t want to break up in the center of the dance floor needs to do. We know what is and isn’t off-limits and we both have the right to say “let’s leave” on a moment’s notice and then we’ll hightail it outta there. That said, even with all of the unsexy and very rigorous boundaries in place, the whole point of this (other than internet fame and bringing shame to my parents) is to get laid. If I’m shelling out that much money for overpriced drinks and bad dance music, you better believe I’m going to get weird. 

Reality: F*cking Duh.

I was dressed like a slutty elf. I spent $350 on ONE NIGHT OUT. We started drinking at 5pm. Yes, I had sex. Yes, stuff happened with strangers. No, my husband and I didn’t break up because of it. Yes, it was a f*cking blast. Yes, it made our relationship stronger. No, I don’t think it’s cheating. Yes, I would HIGHLY suggest going. No, you’re not going to get any more scandalous details from me about what went down. Not yet, at least…

Expectation: Sex Clubs Will Become My New Thing

Considering my love of attention and my thirst for anything taboo, I have a feeling that once I step foot into my first sex club, I’ll want to keep coming again and again and again. Yeah, yeah—pun fully intended. 

Reality: To Be Determined

While I’m not sure I’m going to purchase an annual pass to my neighborhood sex club, I’m also not writing the idea off. While I wasn’t obsessed with the venue, the clientele, or those freaking black pleather couches (ugh), there’s something to be said for branching out of your usual bedroom routine and trying something different. Whether that means a gang bang or just giggling with your partner in the corner, there’s something (read: orgasms) for everyone who is willing to get out of their comfort zone.

Images: Alexander Popov / Unsplash; uuppod, betchesluvthis, almondmilkhunni, garbage_babey / Twitter