There is a version of this conversation that is purely logistical. You have a private club. The men are bisexual. The women are not required to be. Everyone agreed to the rules before they arrived. What else is there to say?
More than you'd think.
When we say that every man in the room is bisexual — not curious, not open to the idea in principle, not willing to consider it under certain circumstances — we're describing something that shapes the atmosphere before anyone has said a word. The room has a different center of gravity. There's a settled quality to it. Men who have been bisexual their whole lives, who have never had to perform uncertainty about it, carry themselves differently. It shows.
The distinction we care about is this: bisexual is an identity, not a behavior. A man who might, in a threesome, allow something to happen with another man — but who would never seek that independently, who experiences no real attraction, who is responding to the logistics of a particular evening — that man is not bisexual in any meaningful sense. He is a straight man in a complicated situation.
This is not a judgment. It is a description. And the difference matters because when a room is built around genuine bisexual identity rather than situational flexibility, something shifts. The space becomes more honest. People stop performing and start being.
"Even if it were just me and the other man — no women involved — I would still be having sex with him."
That sentence is our standard. Not because we require everyone to announce it at the door, but because it describes the baseline. The men here find men attractive — independently, not conditionally. The women who join them know this and have made peace with it, or have found that they prefer it. The room, as a result, is made of people who are not pretending.
We have found that this specific clarity produces something rare in lifestyle spaces: comfort. Members tell us, consistently, that they feel less watched here. Less evaluated. Less like they arrived to audition for a role. Part of that is the vetting process. Part of it is the size — we keep the community small by design. But a significant part of it is simply this: everyone in the room is who they said they were. That tends to put people at ease.
The character of a room is not accidental. It is a product of who belongs there and what brought them. We built Bi Design with a particular kind of person in mind, and we have been deliberate about keeping that person at the center of everything we do.