Are Sex Parties The New Vibrator?

by Regina Lynn

I walk down the street, passing clumps of smokers spilling from nearby nightclubs, looking for the private address I’d been given earlier. It takes two passes to find the right place, and then a friendly face at the door asks my name. I feel a sudden desire to whisper a pass phrase, like “melba toast” or “caffeine jitters,” but instead I step inside and climb the long wooden stairway so typical of San Francisco’s Victorian flats.

I have arrived at Club Kiss, one of several sex party series hosted by Kinky Salon founders Polly Pandemonium and Scott Levkoff. Polly is greeting new arrivals while Scott checks names off a list and collects entry fees. A pretty woman in a corset and boy-cut panties leads newcomers on tours of Mission Control, which everyone refers to simply as “the space.” Down the hall, a bartender serves drinks brought by the guests; a couple relaxes on the smoking patio and others hang up outerwear in the do-it-yourself coat check.

I wander into a large room with soft couches, pillows the size of bathtubs and a strippers’ pole; this is the dance floor, Polly says. The music is loud enough to make it a party but not so loud you have to shout, a blend of techno, disco, and hip-hop. Beyond the dancers, two smaller rooms offer semi-discreet accommodations; our tour pauses at the threshold so we don’t disturb the couple starting off with a quickie in the blue room.

One little slip of a thing, naked but for a collar, engaged enthusiastically in a blow job with a fully clothed man in the cloakroom, while new arrivals calmly hung up their coats and got themselves organized.

It was early yet and the space was relatively empty, but couples were already slipping into semi-private spaces for quickies—appetizers to get them ready for the full meal. In one small side room, separated from the dance floor by a wisp of a curtain, a pair of newlyweds got busy making semi-public passionate love.