The "Swingtown" digs resemble a sleazier version of the "Brady Bunch" home. Apparently, they have a bit of expendable cash, which is true of the majority of swingers.

These are often yuppies looking to be a little wild; their mundane lives are made exciting on weekends when they break out of the monotony of the everyday grind by partaking in a scandalously saucy little secret.

Although the party I attended took place at a three-level home in a lovely, quiet, nondescript neighborhood, I could immediately tell this wasn't an ordinary Saturday night, middle-class house party.

The dank smell, seedy lighting and pink walls gave it away. Occasionally, a man clad only in a towel walked by. It almost sounded like the house was haunted with the grunts and groans bellowing from upstairs.