The Kinsey Institute at Indiana University estimates that as many as 4 million Americans participate in some form of group sex or couple swapping. "What do you want?" She fetches two rum and Cokes and a tall, strong pink drink for herself. "I have every kind of liquor here," she says. Susan asks if they want anything to drink. "We went to another club once, but we didn't do anything." "This is our first time here," the young blond woman says. "Are you new to the lifestyle?" Susan asks the couple. By day, she's a Broward public school teacher, but on weekends, she puts on a little extra makeup, wears a slightly shorter dress, and comes to clubs like this. Like most of the people contacted for this article, Susan asked that her last name not be published for fear that tales of her exploits might make it back to neighbors and coworkers. Susan, a tall, 49-year-old blond in a chiffon dress, locks eyes with the young lady in polka dots, takes her gently by the forearm, and guides her to the chair next to her own.
Soon enough, though, they're invited to join a group of regulars - two men and three women - seated at a table.
A mix of recent pop songs and older disco plays to the 20 or so people - nearly all between 40 and 60 years old - scattered about the room. The young couple sits down on a leather couch. There's a disco ball, a wooden bar adorned with Christmas lights, vinyl chairs situated around a few Formica tables, and a parquet dance floor replete with a single metal pole. The clandestine club would fit right into a pleasant snapshot from 1978.
It's their first time here, and a few people stare as they amble past the pool table, wide-eyed and a bit nervous. on a recent Saturday, a young couple - a broad-shouldered man in slacks and a petite blond in her mid-20s wearing a polka-dot dress - walks through the black door and into Club Hedonism. The only hint of what happens beyond the door is a worn sign leaning against a pole near the parking lot. There's an unmarked black door at the end of a Pompano Beach strip mall, next to a laundromat and a dollar store and across the street from an Episcopal church.