I went to a sex party with my partner

It’s 5pm on a Sunday in March, and I’m standing in a long queue of excited punters. 

People are chatting, smoking, and finishing off water bottles of pre-mixed drinks before flashing their tickets at the door. 

You would be forgiven for thinking I was patiently waiting for entry to your regular, everyday night club, unless the time gave me away.

Except, Crossbreed isn’t your normal nightclub. It’s a queer space, a rave, and a sex party in Hackney Wick, East London. And I’m going for the first time.

My partner and I had been planning this for a while. We simply wanted to see what it was like; to see if we enjoyed it; to talk to the other attendees. 

In the snaking queue, everybody is dressed in long coats reaching their ankles. You can see stockings and the occasional flash of metal poking out. My partner and I have gone for a classic mix of fishnet, mesh, and leather.

I point out someone holding a bulging Sainsbury’s bag to my partner: ‘What do you reckon is in there then?’ He shrugs: ‘Here? It could be literally anything’.

Inside is again remarkably normal. OK, you can see a little more flesh than you might be used to. But really, in the grand scheme of things, not that much more.

It’s fun. People have really played with the concept of kinkwear. A cowgirl with a pink hat and matching chaps wanders by; followed by a classic 1960s style space adventurer with a long purple wig and a wheelie suitcase. 

The club is first and foremost a queer space, created with the aim of providing a welcoming space for the queer, trans and Black, indigenous, and people of colour (BIPOC) community. 

And for me, the experience I had was a catalyst to realising my pansexuality. Previously only sexually engaging with men, I only allowed myself to enjoy women in the safety of the internet, in erotica or porn. I thought I never felt the need to explore further.

I had fantastic, fulfilling relationships with men and maybe a part of me (sadly) didn’t feel I needed to open up that box. Here, though, every type of person and expression was celebrated, and their openness and comfort inspired me. 

It was meticulously designed. Beyond the stereotypical areas of a club – cloakroom, dancefloor, smoking area – they have spaces that only exist in kink events. 

Its wellbeing room is a small, warm shed filled with soft furnishings and low lighting where the club supplies free non-alcoholic drinks and encourages a quiet space for people to recharge if they feel over-stimulated. There’s a trans and femme only area, where no cis males are allowed inside, too.

But the most notable space is the Play Room. That’s the place where ‘normal’ goes out the window. 

Entering through a thick plastic curtain, there is a playground of metal structures, cages, soft leather platforms and, oddly enough, a rogue pommel horse. People, everywhere, minding their own business, having sex with each other, in every number and gender combinations possible.

The most secretive of worlds, other people’s sex lives, publicly on show. 

First I noticed the intense heat. Then the sound of (it sounds cliche, but it’s true) spanking and moaning. 

When you’re in the midst of it, the natural thing to do is to follow suit. Being with a partner I knew well, replicating the things we usually did privately in a public space almost came as second nature. I quickly forgot that I was doing something very private. I forgot that I was surrounded by people and I just let myself relax into it. 

We started tucked away on a platform in the corner, and then as we both became more comfortable, we moved our activity to a metal frame in the centre of the room. 

Afterwards, we sat on a bench at the side of the room, watching the space we had just been active in. Seeing other couples use the same for their own activity was definitely empowering, and a little overwhelming. We both knew that we would definitely be coming back. 

Despite it feeling so freeing, the British depiction of sexuality is still often associated with shame. People speaking about sex in papers either remain anonymous or avoid specific detail, and TV shows that examine ‘real-life’ sex often depict queer or kinky lifestyles as something to gawp at. 

I was lucky enough to be surrounded by confident queer people since the age of 18. But for some reason, I didn’t even realise that I was also queer. Why did it take me so long to come out? 

If you’re curious or questioning, you can do all the online research you want, but there is nothing so valuable as arriving in a queer space and simply seeing how you feel. The first time I walked into that club I felt comfortable; I had a million and one examples of how to present as queer and all of them seemed so exciting and joyful. 

Alex Warren, the founder of Crossbreed, told me he created this space after feeling disillusioned with the very masc-heavy queer scene in London. It’s a space for every queer person, however they present, identify, or however long they have been in the community. 

But like all good things, Crossbreed and other spaces like it are being threatened with closure.

Tower Hamlets council have recently embarked upon a campaign to close Crossbreed and others like it by demanding these spaces apply for a sexual entertainment licence, that would allow for nudity, partial nudity, or sexual activity like paid dances – the latter of which does not occur in Crossbreed. 

Warren and his team sent back a legal statement to the council, explaining their position as a safe space where sexual activity occurs but is not paid for or traded, and are currently awaiting a response. Should Tower Hamlets not accept their challenge, Crossbreed will be forced to find new accommodation, a harsh blow considering the amount of work and investment they have put into updating their home The Colour Factory to be a safe and accessible space. 

This space was massively important to my own discovery of queerness, and I’m sure many others would say the same.

Losing it would represent all the queer lives that weren’t able to fully bloom, people like me who just needed a final push to come out who might never get that. 

Attending the sex-positive night was the ultimate way to fully accept myself and my queer sexuality. It not only gave me inspiration to try new things, it also gave me confidence that my sexual activity and interests were valid and, importantly, nothing to be ashamed of. 

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