I Went to a S*x-Positive Party in Lisbon

I’m a 50-year-old mother of three. I live a fairly suburban life, and most nights my idea of “wild” involves Netflix, pajamas, and being in bed by 10.

Okay - that’s a lie. Anyone who knows me knows that is not entirely true ;-)

But the point is, my life on paper is relatively “normal” (whatever that means). I do the school run in yoga pants, volunteer at bake sales, and I’m deep in the trenches of perimenopause.

So naturally, I found myself at a sex party in Lisbon.

As one does.

I first heard about Shame LESS Society completely by accident. I was at the beach with friends - sun, sand, casual conversations about HRT - when the topic of sex-positive spaces came up. Killing Kittens was mentioned, which some of you might remember I wrote about years ago after being invited to a few of their parties. Why? Because sex-positive spaces and themes have always intrigued me, not because I have a secret passion for group sex (I don’t), but because I love environments where people drop the performative nonsense and show up as themselves, and also because I love writing about these topics!

Curiosity over judgement. Authenticity over inhibition. That sort of thing.

Anyway, someone mentioned the Shame LESS Society - a sex-positive community in Lisbon. A quick Google search later and I was staring at a website full of words like connection, consent, conscious hedonism, and community. And also: a woman founder - Elnora Turahan - with a mission to make Lisbon kinkier. Which, frankly, is my kryptonite.

Any woman who slightly disturbs the peace and lives unapologetically on her own terms has a strong chance of becoming my new best friend. And this woman is seriously impressive. At just 35, she hasn’t only achieved what she set out to do - she’s shifted the conversation entirely. I still remember hearing her speak at one of the events, she talked about safety and intention in the space she’d created. It stopped me in my tracks.

There was so much thought behind it - on how to hold a room that was playful and sex-forward, while also being genuinely safe. That balance doesn’t happen by coincidence. And months later, as I chatted to her on the phone, all I could think to myself was ‘wow, good for her’. 

The name of the community, as Elnora explained to me, is not random or a gimmick. It’s intentional. The idea being not trying to eliminate shame altogether - after all, shame is a human emotion we all experience - but rather reduce it (hence the “less” part).

That distinction really stayed with me. It aligns closely with how I think about shame: it thrives in darkness, but once you shine a light on it, it often loses its grip. We know it’s there, but we feel less impacted. Less attached. Less forced to behave in a certain way because of it.

Anyway, I decided to apply.

Because yes - Shame LESS has a vetting process. You can’t just rock up in your underwear and hope for the best. You apply. Then you get interviewed.

Naturally, I was fascinated. What exactly do you ask someone on a Zoom call before inviting them to a sex party? Favourite position? Thoughts on leather? Star sign?

Turns out - none of that.

The 20-minute video call was rather sensible. We talked about consent - what it means to me, why I was curious, what I hoped to get out of the experience. It wasn’t invasive or awkward. It felt more like someone quietly checking that I was a real human with decent intentions and a working understanding of boundaries.

Which, when you think about it, is… very cool.

I did briefly wonder how I’d feel if they rejected me. You know that viral TikTok sound - “Am I the drama?” Because honestly, spending time around younger people has made me realise that our generation - fabulous as we are - still carries a few… legacy issues. So part of me genuinely wondered if I’d even make the cut.

Luckily, I did.

Before attending a main event, all new members are required to go to a pre-care session - essentially a workshop on consent, boundaries, communication, and respect. And honestly? Everyone on the planet should do this. The irony is that people imagine sex forward spaces as chaotic, dangerous, or sleazy - when in reality, they’re often safer than your average nightclub.

I’ve never had my arse pinched at Shame LESS. No one has “accidentally” brushed against me. No one has ignored a ‘no’. In fact, people rarely approach you unless you approach them first and they always ask for consent before any physical contact. Which would have blown my 22-year-old London self’s mind. 

The workshop lasted about an hour and a half and was led by an expert. I’d done many of the exercises before - through retreats, therapy spaces, and other communities - but there was something powerful about everyone starting from the same place, with the same rules of engagement. It sets a tone. It creates safety. It also makes meeting people later feel far less awkward.

Then came the party.

The average age sits somewhere between 35 and 45, with a good mix of men and women. I didn’t feel out of place - even if I was probably on the older side. Everyone was open and welcoming, and conversations flowed easily, regardless of age. And the fashion. Oh, the fashion. This alone is worth the price of admission. Shame LESS is one of those rare places where you can wear whatever the hell you want without irony or explanation.

So yes, I wore fierce lingerie (high waisted to hold in my c section shelf obviously), an over-the-top skirt, killer heels, jewellery - the whole fantasy. Taking off all the layers for bathroom breaks was a challenge but at least I wasn’t wearing Spanx on this occasion so it could have been worse. Others wore leather, mesh tops, makeup, bondage outfits, nipple clamps. Some wore very little. Some wore more. There is no rigid dress code. It’s more about self-expression.

Shame LESS often hosts events at their own headquarters in Lisbon, which gives the whole thing a strangely homey feel - like someone’s very kinky living room. There are multiple floors, different zones, and a snack table with a surprising amount of cheese and dried fruit.

You can go to a party and never see any sex at all - if that’s your preference. There’s a dance floor. A lounge. Balconies. Outdoor spaces. Performances. Workshops. And yes, there are play areas - including BDSM spaces - where people can explore with partners, multiple partners, or simply observe.

Observe politely. With consent. Not like you’re at the cinema with popcorn and opinions.

There are also “angels” - literal ones, with halos - whose job is to make sure everyone feels safe, hydrated, and supported. In reality they are a team of mental health professionals - coaches, educators etc - whose primary role is to be there for emotional support should that be needed.  There is also a safety team - though honestly, from my own experience, the environment is respectful that it didn’t feel necessary.

Another thing I love: most people don’t drink much alcohol. The focus is presence, not intoxication. Sex and alcohol don’t always mix well, and Shameless understands that connection requires clarity. Also, speaking purely from personal experience, my drunk-sexy face is not something the world needs more exposure to. Some things are better enjoyed sober so it’s probably for the best.

You can find bodies of all shapes and sizes. Couples. Solo attendees. People exploring. People are chatting. People just being. There’s a strong body-positive, non-judgemental energy that feels genuinely rare.

I even went alone once - something I would never have done at a nightclub. But I felt safe, welcomed, and ended up having one of the nicest evenings, just talking and connecting.

They also ask you to keep your phone firmly in your bag because there’s a strict no-photos policy, which instantly adds to the sense of safety and privacy. You can even wear a wristband if you don’t want to appear in any images taken by their own photographer for socials.

The result? Presence. Real presence. No scrolling, no texting, no sneaky WhatsApp replies on your kids class group in the corner. Everyone is actually at the party - body and mind - which, in this day and age, feels refreshing all on its own.

If I am being totally honest, I don’t personally find group sex particularly arousing, and I didn’t feel compelled to participate sexually. That’s not why I’m there. What I love is the environment - mainly the people it attracts. Open-minded, curious, playful humans who aren’t clinging to rigid sexual or relational norms. And also, Shame LESS Society isn’t just a party brand. It’s a community - active, alive, and deeply connected online as well, especially through Telegram, and their Instagram page where thousands of members exchange advice, outfit ideas, reflections, and the occasional cheeky content drop.

Is it for everyone? Absolutely not.

Is it sleazy? Not even close.

Think of it less as a dark dungeon (though those exist too) and more as a place where you can dress up, maybe kiss someone, and feel - for a few hours - radically yourself.

For me, these glimpses into other worlds feel vital. They remind me that identity is fluid, desire is nothing to be ashamed of, and play doesn’t have an expiry date.

Sometimes liberation looks like group sex.

And sometimes it looks like wearing lingerie, watching someone being spanked, and eating a whole bowl of dried fruit.

Both are valid.