"I went to a sex party with my boyfriend and laughed so much I wet my pants."

Wanting to spice things up with my boyfriend, I signed us up to a ‘Play’ party.

‘Play’ is code for sex. ‘Play’ is also code for anything that could be perceived as a bit ‘out there’ to the Vanilla Gang, of which I was once an avid member.

‘Toilet Play’ is pooing and weeing on each other. ‘Blood Play’ is opening up skin and getting blood and doing stuff with it. I don’t know the specifics. It ain’t for the faint hearted.

But here we were, at a ‘Play’ party. The problem was, I had the giggles. Hard.

The boyfriend had taken a Viagra and I was dressed in leopard print. It was a jungle theme. And yes I know leopard print is a very obvious choice and maybe a little sex party basic bitch, but whatever (hair flick).

It was a narrow club, sort of like a terrace house and had a big open area up some stairs and then a rabbit warren of rooms up another set of stairs.

It was a secret party, you need to have a chat and send your pic before you’re given a code to buy tickets.

This is to keep the creeps out. One sniff of creepiness and you’re blacklisted for life. I was on my best behaviour.

Except for the giggles. And the little bit of wee that came out from from the giggles.

The pic was, I guess, to make sure you didn’t have six eyes or something. And the organiser was quite clear about an age limit, which was 40. I’m 41 but I guess I ‘passed’ as in my thirties. Aced it. Thank you Botox. And next time I may come clean because I’m all about age positivity.

I was a little disappointed there wasn’t a secret knock. But when we were let in, it was all rather mysterious – a red stairwell leading to God only knows.

There was a performance in the bar area when we got there and a huge crowd of half naked people were watching something and clapping appreciatively. I pushed to the front, expecting, I don’t know, a tap dancing troupe, but it was a FULL ON SEX SHOW.

Two people were fucking. That was the show. The giggles dialled up pretty hard at that point.

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My boyfriend dragged me upstairs to one of the rooms with a bed and red satin sheets and made jokes about the only way to stop my giggles was to put his dick in my mouth. Which he did. And it worked!

People watched us having our very own sex show, which I really enjoyed. because I went to a performing arts high school.

Then we toured the rooms and watched other people having sex. One room was so crowded it looked like a big bunch of moist and noisy earthworms writhing around. It was fascinating.

We went downstairs to the smoking area for a whiskey and some air that didn’t smell like fanny, lube and cum.

It was there we met a nice girl and then suddenly I was kissing her and then we went down on each other while others watched. My boyfriend looked like the Cheshire cat.

It all felt pretty casual and easy. The weirdness and giggles were long gone. In between sex acts we chatted about mundane things and then we went at it again without missing a beat.

At one point our new friend had my boyfriend’s penis in her mouth and an Italian dude came over and dangled his rock hard wang in my line of vision. I was not interested, and told him so.

When he persisted, my new friend, with her mouth full, told him that I had said NO and THAT WAS THAT. It was pretty hard to make out what she was saying, but he got the gist and awkwardly sidled away.

It’s hard to walk off with much dignity when you’re naked with a giant hard on.

We all said our goodbyes and Boyfriend and I went to Oporto to debrief and ate a lot of chicken. Sex parties make you hungry!

I never spoke to our new friend again, but Boyfriend and I talk about that night a lot… and I have not hung up my leopard print heels just yet…

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons. The feature image used is a stock photo.