Suzanne Harrington goes undercover at the elite swingers’ party that is coming to Ireland to find out what really happens when the Killing Kittens get together
A good-looking couple come through the door. She’s tall, curvaceous, and dressed in Forties-look vintage, all cinched waist, Dita Von Teese hair roll and matte red lipstick. The man with her is very Young Fogey – a waxed moustache, tweed suit, polished brogues – and is handsome in a blue-eyed, clear-skinned kind of way. They are greeted warmly by a pretty young woman in a tight black cocktail frock and handed a glass of fizz. They scan the room, and the room – full of similarly attractive young couples – scans them back. Nobody in here – apart from me – looks over 35. Everyone is checking everyone out. Everyone is a member of Killing Kittens.
Killing Kittens is a “network of the sexual elite” who meet at invitation-only parties to have sex with each other. It is all about female sexual empowerment – the usual cardinal sex-party rule applies: no unaccompanied males. The other rules, sent via email the day before the party, are that men may not approach women, or talk to them …read more