Along with experimenting with floggers and furry mittens, my (female) partner in the class, Merisol, and I discover that the humble electric toothbrush can be an extremely erotic tool in sensory play.
After lunch, in the Heart Space tent, I attend a class called C***ology, where I make a model of my vagina out of Play-Doh.
‘Sex has always been good, but there were patterns we were falling into,’ he says of their motivation to attend last year.
Many of my classmates, however, have taken up our instructor’s invitation to disrobe and are semi-clad and mainly topless, men and women alike.
I’m at Sex Camp, a weekend festival of workshops and classes held, somewhat improbably, on a Girl Guide campground in the Australian countryside, 90 minutes outside Melbourne.
The irony of the activity – which, when our instructor demonstrates it on his muse, is very hot indeed – being held in a Girl Guide hut, is not lost on any of us.
I am terrible at the knots, but fare far better in the next class, Bondassage, a hybrid of bondage and massage.