HOT AND BOTHERED IN A SAUNA SEX CLUB One reader tried it out – so you don’t have to

Across the country, women like you are getting their kicks from adult ‘health spas’, but what really goes on behind closed doors? Alix Fox feels the heat ›

don’t know if you’ve ever seen a man masturbating using a Jacuzzi jet stream, but it’s a lesson in contortionism. The guy in front of me is wilfully demonstrating – one scrawny leg hooked over the edge of the pool, his knuckles tight with exertion as he clings on lizard-like, bubbles blasting his genitals. Behind him, a nude girl emerges from a shower block, soap suds foaming over her breasts. Her giggles echo through the misty, tiled room as she heads to the pool – followed by her also-very-naked partner and his bobbing erection. Four men gaze on, greying towels wrapped round their waists, leaning against a cluster of dusty fake pot plants I wish could speak – they’d have stories. As for me? Well, yes. I’m also 100% naked, like everyone else here on this Saturday evening. That’s because I’m at Rio’s: an X-rated ‘naturist health spa’ in London. It’s one of several hedonistic ‘health clubs’ in the UK, where seven nights (and days) a week, adults of all shapes, sizes and walks of life gather to shed their clothes, shed their inhibitions – and, well, there’s no other way to put it… shag.

I used to believe only two types of people had sex in saunas: gay men and ’70s porn stars. But as I look around, a very different picture emerges. Yes, there are the requisite old guys with sagging skin and lascivious grins, but there are also younger men and women, hot hipsters with tattoos and pretty, stylish young women in their twenties and thirties.

So what happened? When did sex in a steam room go from niche sexual-frontier stuff to apparently more mainstream fun?

Hot in here…

Kat, 29, works in fashion. She used to go to fetish parties like London’s Torture Garden, but complains that following the popularity of Fifty

Shades Of Grey, events have become overrun with “tourists”.“Clubs are full of drunk gawpers who just want to cross a fashionable experience off their bucket list so they can brag about being ‘wild,’” she grumbles.

So Kat got bored – and turned to saunas. She reckons the nakedness “puts off pretenders”: users are genuinely committed to the hot ’n’ heavy play she craves, as opposed to merely getting pissed in costumes.

Mancunian Nikki, 27, a single beauty PR, agrees. She likes that saunas can provide instant sexual gratification.“Some operate virtually 24/7. I can go on a horny whim without having to wait for a party or abide by snooty dress codes,” she reasons. “I can rock up, strip off and get laid – although sometimes I enjoy being a voyeur instead, or simply revel in being naked. It’s immensely freeing.”

Graphic designer Jade*, 26, and her teacher boyfriend Andy* are into group sex, and prefer to find partners for threesomes at the sauna 30 minutes from their Blackpool home rather than via adult networking websites.“It feels safer than inviting strangers into our house and, at £15 per couple, it’s cheaper than a hotel room,” she says.

“I’ve noticed more young women coming through the doors in the past five years, from wide-ranging backgrounds,” says Lucy*, who works behind the desk at a sauna in central London.“I’ve even seen a girl leave in a hijab,” says Emma*, 28, a former sauna receptionist, who now visits as a punter.“Attitudes to sex are getting more liberal and experimental.”

Student Bella, 22, is a bartender at a London

sauna. She thinks technological fatigue may be prompting more of her peers to explore old-school, face-to-face pick-up joints. “There’s this idea that dating apps can get you sex in seconds, but truthfully, apps are full of time-wasters; it’s exhausting,” she notes. “At saunas, you meet real people in real time, and you can tell if there’s chemistry.”

In addition, Bella theorises that bodypositivity movements like #E ff Your Beauty Standards are producing a subsector of female millennials who feel more confident naked, and are embracing the liberating nudist aspect of sauna culture.

Nikki says her dirty pursuits in her birthday suit have improved her body image.“I’m averagelooking, lumpy and bumpy,” she declares, “but at saunas, I spot men admiring my nude body and getting erect; it’s a massive ego trip. Seeing people of different ages, races and builds in the buff makes you realise the media’s homogenised version of what’s ‘sexy’ is bullshit.”

Hearing all this leaves me both intrigued, and intimidated. As a 34-year- old single woman with a lively libido, the heat of my sexual frustration is frequently very high. But could I really find fulfilment at a scuzzy sauna? A body-confidence boost appeals, too; my last significant ex treated me terribly, reducing my self-esteem to an all-time low. I aspire to feeling unfettered and unashamed when unclad. But is baring all in a sweatbox of swinging cocks really the way forward?

I decide the only way to find out is to step inside.

Full steam ahead

From the outside, Rio’s is nothing to look at. It squats between a Lebanese fastfood joint and a framing shop on a busy north London high street. The awning is dirty and the windows are blacked out by pictures of a tropical beach. It looks seedy, sure, but there’s no obvious evidence that people come here to have sex.

I intend to go solo, figuring I’ll feel less self-conscious if I know no one, but my experienced mate Sally* cautions against this. She explains that while young women may be becoming more commonplace at saunas, they’re still a minority, and can receive overwhelming amounts of male attention, especially if they’ve gone along alone.

Moreover, while there are security cameras (though mobiles are banned, so no one can take pictures), there are no safety

“Is baring all in a sweatbox of swinging cocks really the way forward?”

monitors like those in S&M clubs. And while people in the fetish community routinely agree safe words and discuss boundaries to ensure play is consensual and controlled, communication isn’t always great in saunas. “Most people are friendly and respectful, but occasionally men have tried to make moves by straight-up touching me,” says Emma. Regrettably, gross guys trying to grope girls are a danger and, as sauna guests aren’t vetted, and there’s the added vulnerability of being nude, it’s sensible to go along in a group, particularly if you’re new.

Sally agrees to accompany me with her boyfriend Gabe*.“Rio’s has a couples night on Saturdays – they only let singles in after midnight – so we’ll bring our Italian friend Luca* as your date,” she tells me. She also informs me there’s a BYOB bar, where drinks are decanted into plastic cups. Broken glasses and bare arses don’t mix. I buy a bottle of red, labelled ‘ideal with sausage.’

I want to check my plans are actually legal, so I call a barrister friend for advice. “If you’re only paying to enter the establishment, and anyone having sex is a consenting adult visitor not receiving financial reward, that’s lawful,” they reassure me. There are legal grey areas – for example, if guests bring in sex workers – but generally police tolerate saunas provided there’s no trouble. Online reviews and kinky social networks like Fetlife. com can help you judge a place’s reputation.

Let it all hang out

At 8pm, I set off to meet everyone. I’m floored when I see my date; he’s unexpectedly attractive and I gulp when I realise he’s about to see me naked.

We pay £27 per couple to access Rio’s, via a reception resembling a rundown minicab office, before entering the locker rooms. Once undressed, I walk through the pine-lined lobby where nude men loll on plastic sunloungers, watching TV and eating cheese toasties.“Rio’s is rather tatty and basic, but I’d feel on edge if it was posh,” rationalises Marcus, 25, who’s here this evening with his girlfriend Lizzie, 24.“It’s affordable and accessible, so you meet a more interesting crowd than at elitist clubs.”

“I’m more open-minded about who I hook up with here,” comments a twentysomething girl I get talking to in the pool. “I’ve got frisky with men far older than I’d usually consider, and blokes I wouldn’t glance at in the supermarket. Your perspective changes when you’re turned on and already undressed.” I’m unsure whether this sounds laudably adventurous, or

“Each miniscule cabin contains a raised platform covered with wipe-clean PVC, a papertowel dispenser and a bin”

easy to regret once the heat of the moment has passed.

Two hours of bathing later, I realise I’ve barely fretted about my bareness. I’m deliciously, delightfully, uncharacteristically comfortable in my nudity. It feels natural, and amid the huge spectrum of varied bodies, hang-ups I thought were deeply rooted evaporate. I can’t deny feeling slightly proud as I spy guys laying appreciative eyes on my curves, either.

“I’m plus size, and having men queue up to pleasure my size-18 self – even when my fringe is plastered across my forehead and I’ve sweated off my make-up – feels fantastic,” Kirsty*, 30,

tells me.“But it’s unhealthy to rely on saunas, or on others, for self-verification,” she adds, sagely.

I fancy the pants off Luca (not that he was wearing any), but flirting nude is nerve-racking. Usually, if I was on the pull, I’d dress to enhance my assets; here, I’m literally stripped of all artifice, and it could be hideously uncomfortable if he rejects me. Tonight’s about bravery in the name of discovery, though, so as he sits beside me in the Jacuzzi, I reach for his hand beneath the water. He grips me, secretly, as I try to continue having a conversation with Gabe and Sally.

Finally, in the steam room, Luca kisses me. With our bodies already unwrapped, things go from 0 to 60 at Formula 1 speed – and half a dozen men pack around us, staring intently. I feel a flash of shyness and shame. Then a rush of adrenaline. Then a palm cups my arse.“Don’t touch her without asking!” Gabe roars, springing up to defend me.“There are private cabins down the corridor,” says Sally. “But beware: leaving the door ajar means you want others to join you. Lock it for alone time.” This must be why most of the sexual activity I’ve spotted so far has been subtle; the more hardcore stuff is happening in these booths.

Each miniscule cabin contains a raised platform covered with wipe-clean PVC, a paper-towel dispenser and a bin. I’m reassured to see used condoms in some of them – it’s good to know that the element of risk only extends so far. The grottiness is weirdly arousing. Luca and I start fooling around, but every 15 minutes, someone bangs on the door, trying to get in. At first it’s funny; then aggravating; then scary, as a group persistently hammer on the wood, despite us protesting. I’m petrified as Luca flings open the door to yell at them; it’d be hard to escape if they barged in. My instincts scream ‘danger.’ Thankfully, they leave.

And so, too, do we eventually, at 4am, my mind melting after one of the most erotic, freakish, frightening, yet enlightening nights I’ve ever had.

I can see why women who feel fetish clubs have sold out to the masses might head to saunas instead. I’ve scarcely felt so alive and completely immersed in a heady, all-consuming sexual atmosphere than when I was in the water with Luca; a stark contrast to the detached digital stupefaction of swiping through dating apps.

Rio’s was grotty – there were pervy old men alongside the hot ones – but because these things made the sauna feel so kooky, dirty and taboo juxtaposed with my normal life, they actually increased my sense of escapism and excitement. The confidence boost has been revelatory and lasting, too. This old-fashioned place showed me a lot that was startlingly, stimulatingly new.

But saunas truly aren’t for the faint-hearted – so before you get steamy, think carefully about whether you can stand the heat.