Naked Brunch: A Sunday Afternoon Sex Party
Inside a polyamorous commune that takes “bottomless brunch” literally
You asked, I delivered: Today’s piece is a diaristic, behind-the-scenes dispatch from a brunch sex party at a polyamorous villa in Brooklyn. Going to these events is not cheap, and I save my best and juiciest stories for paid subscribers—so if you’ve been thinking of upgrading your subscription for just $6/month, now is a really nice time to show your support and pay it forward for the next one.
I went to two other “elite” sex parties the night before this, and plan to write about them too, so there’s lots more where this came from!
When I picture brunch, I think of bottomless mimosas, avocado toast, and blonde influencers with crest-bright smiles. I don’t necessarily picture a Brooklyn sex party—which is why, when I get the invite, I can’t help but go see for myself.
It’s my third play party in 24 hours, and I’m brutally hungover. This feels especially apparent when, upon descending the steps of the L train, I find myself surrounded by tiny dogs in immaculately chic Halloween costumes. As I later learn, it’s the Halloween dog parade, and Williamsburg is mecca. On the train, I sip my extra-strong coffee and make eye contact with a caramel-colored chihuahua who, like me, is wearing tinted sunglasses and a beleaguered expression.
Unlike last night’s soirees—housed in private mansions and penthouse suites—this one is in deep Brooklyn, inside a sprawling private home that feels more commune than club. The event copy promises a mix of creativity, enlightenment, and spontaneity, the kind of language you might find on the flier for a meditation retreat or an ecstatic dance class: it’s not an orgy, but a “petri dish of playful abandon.” Upon arriving, guests are checked in and briefed on the protocol—then encouraged to avail themselves of the “full-service BYOB bar,” which seems like an oxymoron, and a dance floor where DJs encourage you to “shake out your second chakra.”
Walking in to the sound of tribal beats, it’s clear the chakra-shaking is already in full swing—and I only need to peer around the corner to the first bedroom to see that the fucking is, too.