Tired of mediocre hookups on my usual dating apps, I switched over to Feeld. Designed for ‘open-minded people’, I was excited to see who I’d meet. Within a week, I’d matched with a guy, Kit*, who stimulated me intellectually and sexually, and it wasn’t long before we began texting daily. Our back-and-forths were filled with intrigue and no shame. Nothing was off-limits; our conversations covering everything from philosophy to our favourite sex positions. I was hooked.
After hundreds of flirty messages, the sexual tension became overwhelming. We had to meet. For our first date, Kit suggested going to a sex club. I was hesitant; neither of us had ever been, but he was sure I was the right person to fulfil his fantasy. The more we talked, the more I came round to the idea, turned on by the idea of being naked and having sex in front of strangers.
Eventually, it was a message sent late one Sunday night that made me say yes. “I hope you feel safe, comfortable, and horny.” Knowing that Kit had my feelings and my pleasure in mind, I agreed to go to a sex club with him.
We met on a balmy Friday night, the air heavy with anticipation around us. Before heading to our main destination — which, it turned out, was part-spa, part-sex club — we decided on drinks at a bar nearby to settle our nerves. As I approached him for the first time in person, I was relieved to see he was just as tall and handsome as his photos suggested.
When he saw me, he didn’t smile, but his eyes widened in a way that signalled he was into me too. As we settled into conversation at the bar, a quiet thrill stirred in me. This man already knew some of my deepest desires. Would he bring them to life, or would he fade into the blurry disappointment of my previous, forgettable hook-ups?
The conversation flowed easily. Like two eager people on a regular first date, we talked about work, weekend plans, and our favourite drinks, skirting around what the night ahead promised. But with each sip and sidelong glance, I felt a slow warmth rising. I couldn’t take my eyes off his lips. As we sat, legs gently brushing, I arched my back, hoping he’d notice the outline of my breasts beneath my braless dress. Finally, in a wordless exchange, we both drained our glasses, ready for what was to come.
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Music pulsed from inside as we approached the club. The space inside was dark, lit by scattered decorative lights and an overhead purple glow. A sharp scent of chlorine from the jacuzzi hit me. We paid our entrance fee, collected towels and wristbands, and then slipped into the shared locker room to stash our belongings.
I took in the place with slow, deliberate curiosity. We passed through a lounge area where a few people lay, towels knotted at their waists and drinks in hand. Upstairs was darker — a loft with almost no light, bathrooms, and three sex rooms.
The rooms were unapologetically open, with no doors in sight. Inside were beds with rubber mattresses and no covers. One room was lined with mirrors, and I knew instantly I wanted to come back to it. Another had a swing and straps on the wall, an invitation for BDSM play if we were daring enough.
After exploring the dark corners of the club, we went to the jacuzzi. I felt a buzz of nervous anticipation as we both hung our towels, leaving us briefly naked before slipping into the water together. Being nude in the pool next to each other felt strangely natural, like sharing a warm bath.
A few charged moments later, Kit finally leaned in and kissed me. Our lips touched, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, hooking my legs around his hips. I felt his wet chest press hard into my breasts. Our tongues tangled together as his hands gripped me from behind, and I floated weightlessly against him.
Distracted by our own foreplay, we barely noticed other couples entering the pool, until one pair commanded the room. The man sat on the edge, scanning the scene like a hunter, his long dick already half-erect. His petite partner slipped into the water, positioned herself between his thighs, and began sucking him with deep and fast strokes.
With her head bobbing at his groin, I started to throb. Straddling my partner, I began stroking his cock as my attention stayed on the live porn unfolding metres away. The couple switched positions: she sprawled back, legs wide, while her partner buried his face in her.
The air between us thickened, like it had absorbed the other couple’s hunger. Grinding against Kit’s thigh, I wrapped my hand tighter around his shaft. His fingers found me, grazing my clit, sliding along my inner and outer lips. I wanted him inside me badly.
When we could no longer resist, he asked if we should go upstairs. Without a word, I stepped out of the jacuzzi and led him, dripping, to the mirrored room.
We laid out towels on the bed and kissed greedily, eager to devour each other. The thought of someone walking in aroused me as I guided his head down to my waist. His head brushed my inner thighs before his tongue finally reached my clit.
I closed my eyes to focus on the way he felt. Then I remembered where we were, and my eyes shot open to catch our reflection in the mirror above. The sight of us pushed me closer to ecstasy. His tongue worked faster, fingers sliding inside me as I got closer to orgasm.
Grabbing his cock, I stroked it before wrapping my lips around him. My tongue traced every inch, my hand following my mouth to ensure no part of him went untouched. His moans excited me.
Afraid of finishing too quickly, he gently pulled me away and rolled on a condom. I spread my legs, ready to take him in. He rubbed his tip against my lips, a tease before sliding inside me. I moaned with satisfaction.
His thrusts were firm but not rough. As his rhythm grew harder, I moaned louder, hoping my screams of pleasure would echo down the halls. Over his shoulder, I spotted strangers peering in, and felt proud that people were watching us fuck.
Next, he flipped me with strong hands, sliding me on top. I straddled him and slid down on his dick. I rode him hard. I watched my breasts jiggle in the mirror as I bounced up and down. Staring at myself was surreal. Leaning forward, arching my back, I scooped my hips against his and squeezed his body with my thighs. Soon after, he let out a loud moan, and I kept riding until his orgasm was complete.
Exhausted, we fell back and lay in our own silence, listening to the moans of others around. When we finally emerged from our blissful haze, I checked the time, and decided to call it a night.
Exiting the club, we exchanged usual end-of-date pleasantries before parting with a gentle kiss, as if we hadn’t both just shared a seismic, defining experience.
For a few days after, we messaged back and forth, feeding each other hot, fragmental reminders of what our bodies had shared. Eventually, life pulled us in different directions, and the exchanges died off. But I’ll always be grateful to him for helping me to find and unlock something in myself; a new kind of sexual freedom.
*Name has been changed
