If you’d told me that a quiet Saturday afternoon in Skegness would land me in the middle of a swingers’ “pre-meet”, I’d have laughed and ordered another coffee.
Yet there I was at 2pm sharp, stepping inside Butlin’s Jellyfish Bar, trying to look like a man who knew what on earth he was doing.
A “pre-meet”, I’d learned, is basically a social warm-up—everyone fully dressed, drinks flowing, nerves jangling—before any… extracurricular activity even gets considered.
Think speed-friending with a twist.
The Last Place You’d Expect It
Butlin’s has long been the postcard idea of a family break: buckets, spades, cheesy shows, bored dads.
But its “Adult Weekenders” follow a slightly different script.
No children, loud music nights themed around the 80s, 90s and 00s, and—apparently—a sizeable sprinkling of people who view monogamy as more of a flexible guideline.
Somehow, that “leave the kids at home” line has slowly morphed into “bring your open-minded friends along too.”
Meet Amie and Lee, the Surprisingly Wholesome Adventurers
Among the regulars at these weekends are Amie and Lee Southwell—both 34, together for nearly two decades, and four years deep into the swinger lifestyle.
They happily road-trip for events across the country, from Swindon to Manchester to Exeter, but insist that Bognor Regis is where the temperature really rises.
Their group descends in force: three straight nights of partying, afternoon naps (strategic ones), beer pong, darts, and themed outfits that barely survive the night.
“Twenty People, Two Bedrooms, One Open Door”
When Amie recalled one evening where around twenty people were divided between two rooms connected by an open door, she spoke about it as casually as if she were describing a family barbecue.
Was everyone involved? I asked—naively.
“Oh, our lot don’t really do spectators,” she said with a shrug.
But she was firm on one thing: consent isn’t just a rule, it’s the rule.
“No one just leaps at someone because they fancy the look of them,” she insisted.
“Newcomers are vetted. Everyone knows someone. It’s controlled chaos, not actual chaos.”
Falling Into the Forums
Before arriving, I’d spent two weeks lurking on swingers’ forums and signing up to various apps that were far more graphic than I’d anticipated.
Somewhere in that blur of bikini-clad profile photos and bold invitations, I stumbled across Amie and Lee’s group.
They were invited years ago, loved it, brought friends, and now turn up as a mini-army of ten couples or more.
Each weekend becomes a cocktail of pirate outfits, rave gear, sexy pyjamas and—strangely—a traditional Sunday roast before the final night of hedonism.
My Nerve-Shredding Invitation
Getting into the pre-meet involved ID checks, a selfie holding my username scribbled on paper, and days of waiting to be “approved.”
Finally I found myself gripping a pricey pint and a photo of the couple who’d arranged the gathering.
The entire resort was a sea of 80s fancy dress, so trying to spot a potential swinger felt like playing Where’s Wally? if Wally wore fishnets and a mullet.
Eventually, I found Kate and David—mid-40s, well-presented, and surrounded by a growing halo of people wearing stickers of the upside-down pineapple, the international badge of “we’re not here for the bingo.”
The Crowd: Not Quite What You’d Assume
Once the full group assembled—roughly 60% women, 40% men—it struck me how… normal everyone looked.
And not normal in the “blend into a crowd” sense.
More like “they’ve all invested in whitening strips and gym memberships.”
There were a couple of awkward solo men hovering around the edges who the group politely ignored, but other than that, they seemed like people you’d bump into at a garden centre.
“It’s Like Online Dating, But With More Consequences”
Mike, 48, who’d turned up with his partner Jackie, laughed about how different people sometimes appear from their online profiles. “Some profiles rewrite reality,” he said.
“But you can’t exactly hide your actual body shape when everyone’s about to get very familiar with it.”
Many in the group already knew each other from past events—like Debbie, 58, who stumbled into the lifestyle after a divorce and now comes three times a year.
“Honestly,” she said, “it’s the company. The sex is optional. The laughs aren’t.”
When Things Go Wrong
Of course, not every night ends with toasting new friendships.
David recalled one memorable meltdown involving a new couple who had insisted on a strict “no kissing” rule—supposedly because kissing is too emotional. But mid-play, a kiss slipped through.
The woman slapped her partner repeatedly—while still naked—and shouted accusations as everyone else slowly pretended to study the wallpaper.
Young Swingers Are Arriving Too
According to Olivia Masterson, 32, who was there with her partner Gage, the lifestyle isn’t just for the over-40 crowd anymore.
Social media has dragged the whole thing into the open; upside-down pineapples on shirts, cabins or car stickers have become the equivalent of secret handshakes.
Hundreds join community pages ahead of the weekender, trading outfit ideas and planning meet-ups.
Butlin’s: “Absolutely Not What We Promote”
For all the sidelong glances, Butlin’s officially distances itself from the kinkier side of its adult-only weekends.
A spokesperson insisted that meet-ups like these are “exceptionally rare,” and anything that breaches behaviour standards is firmly against the rules.
Considering the number of pineapple stickers around me, I wasn’t entirely convinced.
Back to the Dance Floor, Where I Belong
As for me? I stuck firmly to dancing.
Decked out in a neon shell suit, sweatbands, and a wig that could’ve belonged to an off-duty Top Gun extra, I blended into the crowd easily.
Everywhere I looked, someone was either dressed as an Oompa Loompa, an 80s rock god, or something that defied classification.
Go West, Black Lace, and Matt Goss were part of the weekend line-up, and at another recent event Fat Boy Slim even dove into a swimming pool mid-set to lead a rave.
And yet, compared to whatever was happening behind various closed chalet doors, his antics seemed practically wholesome.