Sex Parties Seemingly Lost Their Allure This Past Summer

It wasn't 'Brat Summer.' It wasn't 'demure' or 'mindful.' It was ‘The Summer of Meh.’

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Original illustration by Eduardo

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With Labor Day behind us and the brisk months of autumn firmly ahead, I can finally say with certainty: I didn’t really feel sex parties this past summer. These are words I’d never thought I’d say—at least not yet, at 33 years old. (Maybe at 50 or as early as 40, I thought I’d slow down—but not in my early thirties, right as I’m hitting my sexual prime.)

This directly opposed the vibes of “brat summer,” which thrived all around me, according to social media and every media outlet. I wasn’t feeling playful, carefree, and a tad bit rebellious. Nor did I feel any spirit encouraging me to have fun sexual escapades. 

While I wouldn’t go as far as to say the past three hot months have been a period of summertime sadness, I’ve generally felt over sex parties. What once brought me so much joy and a sense of freedom and community has felt, simply put, mediocre. And I needed to rally myself to get in the mood to have sex, not my usual MO.

When I briefly floated my experience on Instagram, I was shocked by the number of DMs from folks who felt the same way. So, I dug a little deeper to figure out why sex parties didn’t slap as hard this past summer.

And so, here’s why, in 2024, we had “The Summer of Meh.”

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Newbies are not getting the vibe.

Sex parties have officially become mainstream. Every single freakin’ outlet has written about sex parties. I mean, I have written countless articles for mainstream outlets and been a guest on dozens of major podcasts, giving 101 tutorials on sex parties, their vibe, and etiquette. 

Most sex clubs have been welcoming the influx of new members because, well, they need to make money. I know of very few sex clubs rolling in the dough; most are struggling financially to stay afloat. So, clubs have rapidly accepted more members.

“I’m all for welcoming new folks into the scene, but with the influx of newbies, there’s been a noticeable shift,” said Nathan, 27, who’s been in the sex party scene for over a year and went as far as to call these spaces a “second home.” It’s not just that they’re new, he clarified. “It’s that many [newbies] don’t seem to understand the unspoken etiquette of these spaces.” 

Nathan noticed more people pushing his boundaries or outright ignoring them, “and that’s unsettling.” He continued, “When I’m in a space where consent is supposed to be sacred, and people start treating it like a suggestion rather than a rule, it messes with my ability to relax and enjoy myself.”

While the possibility of play is obviously a big attraction, it’s not the only reason to attend a play party. When too many guests are there ONLY to hook up, it can make people uncomfortable.

A prime example is at a mixed-gender sex party when a man is way too quick to ask a female stranger to have sex. Within thirty seconds of meeting, they’ll ask to play. (I’ve heard this from countless friends.) When rejected, they may respond politely and move on, but you have to first flirt. You have to get to know them at least a little bit.

Most importantly, you must read their vibe and gauge their interest because, don’t get me wrong, women are down to fuck at sex parties, and many like the directness. If your rizz is off the charts, and you’re quickly picking up a strong vibe, shoot your shot. There isn’t anything wrong with that, assuming you handle rejection gracefully. But make connections with people you’d actually like to connect with rather than trying to fuck anyone with a pulse.

Ironically, there’s still a sameness to it all.

Even with the newbies, sex parties still somehow feel the same and “have gotten boring,” said Violet, a 27-year-old New Yorker who used to attend sex parties a few times a month but only attended two this past summer. “I know it sounds cliche, but you can have too much of a good thing, and I think that goes for any recreational activity or vice—sex parties included.”

Perhaps after self-isolating for a year inside, desperate for (sexual) human touch and worried we may never be able to party again, we came out of the COVID gate swinging a little too hard. Sex parties subsequently lost their allure—their magic.

“[It’s] the same faces, the same dynamics, the same routines,” Nathan said. “The spark that used to light up the room has dimmed, and it’s hard to get excited about something that feels so predictable.”

The ridiculous drama.