‘’Look, there’s no better conversationalists than swingers,’’ Harry, a veteran swingers in his fifties, ‘’Most people think it’s all about sex, but that’s only 20% of it in my opinion.’’ And with that, his wife returned from their room dressed in fishnet stockings and nothing else, beckoning Harry and a string of other men into the adjacent orgy room.Â
Do you ever recall those tacky stuffed lions that would swing from traveler-run stalls in British seaside towns as though they’d been executed from some kind of feline gallows? Well, one of them was staring back at me from the orgy room of this Blackpool swingers hotel.
Aside from well-maintained potted plants, some framed erotic art, and the majestic mirrored ceilings, this solitary stuffed lion that had been won on the nearby seafront was one of the few bits of decor in this orgy room.
Perched on thick sheets of leopard print blankets, the beady eyes of this stuffed toy were eerily wide. Seeing as it has stood guard over countless swinger parties, I couldn’t help imagining what it had seen over the years. Little did I know, I was about to see it for myself.
Crystal Hotel, Blackpool – Codename: Paradise Hotel
From his lines like ‘’Home is the hunter!’’ to ‘’Jump leads for two? Can do!’’ Alvin Steel and his sex-crazed wife Sunny were two of my favorite characters from the cult British TV show League of Gentlemen. They owned a dark-secret-laden swingers hotel in the fictional town of Royston Vasey, yet I never expected to one day visit one myself.
From the outside, Blackpool’s Crystal Hotel on 7 Crystal Road really doesn’t stand out from any of the other Victorian-era buildings across this notorious seaside resort. Yet, ask any member of the British swinging community about it, and they’ll know it by a different name: Paradise Hotel.
Nestled just off the seafront in Blackpool’s South Shore, this is one of the few dedicated swingers hotels in Britain and has been serving the Brits who are balls-deep in the sexually liberated lifestyle for decades now.
As someone with a weak spot for quirky hotels and the naughty side of the British Isles, I just had to check it out. After my trial by fire at the gates of the last Blackpool hotel, which you can read about here, I was a little more at ease ringing the doorbell of the Paradise Hotel.
As the hulking Victorian-era door gently eased open, I was greeted by an older British woman who was the dictionary definition of a MILF and blue movie producer’s dream. Do you remember Trev? The blonde skinhead from This Is England? Well, she looked like her but with a few years under her garters.
Wrapped in vagina-pink leggings and a black vest that was fighting a losing battle to contain her cleavage, ‘’Sally’’ politely welcomed me inside the hotel’s somewhat narrow hallway, largely taken up by a massive slot machine.
I would later see a photograph of Sally perched over said slot machine, handling what can best be described as a ‘’beef bayonet’’ in a slot of her own. Jackpot! After handing over £70 for a room, Check-in was as smooth as the complimentary bottles of lube left in the on-site dungeon, and I was dropping my bags within five minutes of entry. Not a euphemism.
And So It Begins
You might be thinking, ‘’£70 for a hotel in Blackpool? That’s daylight robbery!’’ Well, not quite. That gets you an en-suite room and access to the weekend swinger’s parties held downstairs, often attended by fifty and a hundred open-minded adults.
I’d arrived on one of those nights with a bit of time to spare before the party began to allow me to tour the facilities. As Sally poured me a pint in the hotel bar, I couldn’t help staring at the crown jewels of this swinging hotel.
‘’Everyone leaves a souvenir or two here, and it all makes for create decor,’’ Sally said in a soft, reserved tone that one wouldn’t immediately associate with the owner of a swinger’s club. She wasn’t joking. From used lingerie and pleaser heels to erotic books and glass dildos, the walls were alive with sleaze!
Aside from the bar, the Paradise Swingers Hotel had three main play areas. One was a BDSM dungeon equipped with restraints, a sex swing, and even a Gloryhole booth. The second was a cramped but easy-to-clean playroom that allowed open-minded adults to get very up close and personal, and the third was the jungle-themed orgy room I mentioned earlier.
With an ominously loud buzz, the first swinger partygoers began to stream through the door. The muster point seemed to be the bar, and I watched with fascination as all manner of swinger couples and singles began to pour in.
The first thing that struck me was the seemingly unwritten dress code. The female swingers took great pride in their appearance and had clearly pieced together their outfits until they were like sexual weapons of mass destruction. The men, on the other hand, opted for classy attire that made them look like handsome studs.
‘’You look a bit lost there, love!’’ Said Tina with a wink and a smile. She was a mid-forties swinger in a wet-look catsuit with tactical zips at her crotch and bust that had been left open. ‘’D’ya need a map?’’
Tina was my battering ram into the world of swinging as she was quick to sit next to a nervous newbie like me and start a conversation. After breaking free from what she described as a loveless marriage, Tina had been introduced to the British swinging scene by a friend.
‘’I’ve tried dating fellas and introducing them to my hobby, but it’s nigh on impossible to find someone comfortable with it, so I just stay single. After all, I get all of the sex and socializing I need through parties like this!’’
For Tina, the allure of being able to dress how provocatively she wanted and sleep with as many men as she liked without any social stigma was like a dream come true. She confessed the monogamous relationships had always left her feeling trapped, and she ventured into a swinging club alone on a whim many years ago and never looked back.
It’s a Bit Like Cluedo But With Cum!
Donna was the kind of woman who you’d hear before you saw her. Quite literally, in fact! Upon returning to the bar from the toilet, I heard what sounded like someone plunging a sink, only to pass this swinger hotel’s BDSM dungeon to see the source of it.
Some dedicated soul was manning the Gloryhole booth in the corner as a long line of men queued up to get their maypoles polished. The noise was deafening and oozed into the bar area to contrast with the 80’s hits playlist booming out.
When the audible carnage came to an end, there was a long lull before Donna slinked into the bar area, unceremoniously wiping her mouth as she made her way to get a drink. Fascinated by her Gloryhole escapades, I struck up a conversation with her.
In her early forties, Donna was a well-spoken woman with an accent from the South. She lived hours away from Blackpool, yet commuted to the sex parties at this swingers hotel solely to use the Gloryhole. As we spoke, I could still see the glistening liquids of her recent escapades catching the light.
‘’I love it here,’’ Donna said. ‘’It’s such a down-to-earth place, and everybody is so lovely. My life back home is, well, let’s just say, uptight and restrictive. This is where I come to let my hair down, although I tell everybody back home I’m going for a spa retreat.’’
Donna’s kink was quite a quirky one. She avoided the face-to-face orgies in the hotel and instead chose to base herself in the Gloryhole booth for hours on end, anonymously handling the pink cigars that would inevitably make their way through the well-worn hole in the wall.
‘’The biggest thrill comes afterward,’’ Donna said casually, ‘’I adore coming back to the bar and catching people’s eyes, wondering which one of them I’ve just serviced. It’s a little bit like Cluedo but with cum! It makes the kind of memories that make my somewhat dull home life possible to bear, to be honest!’’
The Jungle Drums Are Going to Be Booming Tonight!
‘’Oh, it’s saved our marriage!’’ Reggie, a Yorkshireman who’d discovered swinging with his wife two years ago, told me, ‘’We were on the brink of divorce and constantly arguing. It was her who suggested it (swinging); I thought she was mad! But we fell in love with it after the first go.’’
Reggie claimed their newfound swinging lifestyle had led to them equally uncovering a love of travel. Whether it was across the length and breadth of the UK, to the edge of Africa in the Canary Islands, or in the kinkiest corners of Berlin, they adored jetting off around the world in search of new swinging highs and naughty experiences.
‘’It’s not all bloody roses, though!’’ He said jokingly, ‘’Something about the ol’ swinging has unlocked a side of her I never knew about. She’s insatiable! I try to make the most of it, but when she has me worn out, I’m happy enough sitting back with a pint in my hand and having a good old tug.’’
His aforementioned wife, however, was nowhere to be found until this point. That was until she silently appeared through the bar door, dressed in stockings, suspenders, and a tight corset with three men half her age standing sheepishly behind her and beckoned Reggie out of the bar and towards the jungle-themed room.
‘’Oh! That’s my call!’’ Reggie said with a friendly wink before downing what was left of his cocktail, ‘’The jungle drums are going to be booming tonight by the looks of it. You’re welcome to get stuck into her if you want!’’
Lastly, What Were the Rooms Actually Like at a Swingers Hotel?
Let’s be realistic; I’m sure only a few of you actually give a toss about what the rooms were like in the Hotel Paradise. But if you’re one of them, then here’s the lowdown!
Compared to many of the other hotels I’ve stayed at in Blackpool, the en-suite rooms at the Paradise Hotel were immaculately clean, comfortable, and equipped with all the basics you need.
The rooms were a little thin, meaning you’re lulled to sleep by the orgasmic moans and dulled dirty talk of people who didn’t seem to get enough action in the playrooms downstairs, but I’d rather hear that than arguments or loud music. Wouldn’t you?
So, the next time I stay in a British hotel whose hygiene standards are lacking, I’m going to pull out the line of ‘’I’ve stayed in sex hotels less filthy than this!’’ and I’ll be telling the bloody truth!
The breakfast the next day was your standard Blackpool fare, although it was a quirky feeling sitting shoulder to shoulder with the remnants of them same crowd from last night, many of them bearing the signs of a hangover combined with a long night of debauchery.
What’s My Verdict After Spending the Night at a British Swingers Hotel?
I had no idea what a night at the Paradise Hotel would bring. Still, I left with a mind broadened to the wild world of British swinging. Man, what a cool crowd of people!
At first, I wondered if the whole scene would be cliquey and unwelcoming to outsiders. How pleasantly wrong I was! Everyone I met was warm and welcoming and more than open to letting me into their lifestyle and the various nuances within it.
British swingers come from all walks of life, and all have their own unique tales to tell and perspectives on the lifestyle. The Paradise Hotel is an old-school stronghold for them to converge, and it’s one of the most unique British hotels I’ve ever had the chance to stay at.
