[Blind Gossip] Reporters from News.com.au and The New York Post were invited to attend a pair of wild parties in New York City recently. Hosted by a friend of Kate Middleton named Emma Sayles, the parties indulge the s*xual fantasies of the rich and famous.
We’ve condensed the stories here to highlight the blind items that were featured in their articles. You can read their full reports at their respective websites.
Here is New York Post reporter Dana Schuster’s experience:
Leggy models in Christian Louboutin heels and Wolford stockings glide from room to candlelit room. A dapper man in a custom suit eyes them while sipping Champagne by the mansion’s fireplace. A DJ plays in a corner. Oysters are slurped at the bar.
And then, in a matter of minutes, pants are off, bras are unhooked and a tangled web of n*de revelers go at it on a bed plopped smack in the middle of the 12,000-square-foot home.
It’s just another night at Killing Kittens — the roving members-only s*x club that professes to be “the world’s network for the s*xual elite.”
On Saturday night, the k*nky London-based club makes its New York debut. For $100 per woman and $250 per couple, the adventurous can spend hours sleeping with strangers in a swanky Flatiron loft rented for the evening. Cocktail attire and masks are required (though, needless to say, both will get shed rather quickly).
“I’ve been to parties where people fly from Sweden on private jets loaded up with their friends because they can’t play in their own country,” said one guest, who has hooked up with everyone from a restaurant mogul to a married man whose “name is on multiple buildings in New York.”
“He’s from a well-known family in banking, shall I say.”
And this is from the second party, as reported by an anonymous writer at News.com.au:
Despite rumours, Emma Sayle says Middleton has never been a member of the s*x club. But she does insist that the royal “knew all about Killing Kittens. She thought it was funny. She was fascinated.”
The opulent *rgy was held at a swanky West 23rd Street loft with exposed-brick walls where, for $95 per woman and $295 per couple, k*nky New Yorkers could have s*x with strangers (or s*x with loved ones while strangers watched).
The house rules, which were emailed out in advance, are simple: Men must not approach women, men must not talk to women (unless invited), men must wait to be invited, no means no — and only the kittens can break the rules.
One man who looked in his early 30s approached my pal and me.
“I’m a principal at a major hedge fund and my wife is a media magnate. She is 100 times more successful than I am,” he volunteered as he inched closer and closer.
I asked why he and his wife of 10 years enjoy going to these parties. “We’re fit, we have good bodies and we like sex, and want to share our sex with others,” he said.
“But if you’re not feeling the chemistry,” he said, eyeing my crossed arms, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Married Man with name on buildings:
Hedge Fund Principal: