The Naughty Guide 2010 Part Quatre: Behind the mask...

I have travelled across three continents this year, and have come to the conclusion that there are two types of people in this world: those who choke on sex and all it's beastly connotations, and those who drink it down, ask for more, and then sidle off into a back alley for thirds.

London has, I'm proud to say, often been responsible for showing two fingers to the former, but what happens when Londoners say, 'oooh bit chilly in this back alley, can I have a central London mansion instead?'

Why, dear adventurer, that's when Killing Kittens is born...

La Vie always does her best to slap the chain pubs/restaurants and the mundane, samey weekend activities out of you. You should regard this recommendation not only as a slap, but as a double dare...

Kittens parties are sex parties where women make the rules, no means no, and all inhibititions, social mores and other such bullshit is left to wait by the door of whichever lordly home the party happens to be. Members are strictly vetted, but this is by no means a party of The Beautiful People (like I always say, beautiful people are never good at sex, because they never had to be). Rather, this is a social gathering of successful, attractive and open-minded people, couples and singles alike, attending what is ostensibly a champagne party, filled with sequinned dresses, black ties and the ubiquitous Venetian masks sported by the clientele.

Because I'm a terrible ol'tease, I'm not going to tell you about the giant beds, jacuzzi and mysterious private rooms. If you haven't experienced a KK party, then I suggest you do so immmediately. You can be a voyeur, willing accomplice or innocent bystander, as you fancy. Shrug off your notions of Caligulan orgies, suburban swingers and key parties, and go and have fun.

The conversation and champagne flow freely and gratuitously once a month, until midnight, when the witching hour comes. Over and over again...teehee.

http://www.killingkittens.com/ - for tickets.