… On Sex Toy Parties

My friends. I am so sorry for the delay in posts, it’s too long of a story to waste time on here, so let’s cut the fat and get to the good stuff. I have made my return to tell you the story of how I inadvertently wound up at a sex toy party.

Let’s do this.

Not so very long ago I returned to Pittsburgh for a brief visit and I stopped into an old place of work to see my lovely manager, who we’ll call “Beeny”. After some exchanging of pleasantries, she mentioned that I simply “HAD!” to come to this party. It was going to be fantastic and all the ladies at work were going.

“A ladies party?”

“Yes, it’s a sex toy party!”

“Oh… OK!”

Now to give myself some cred (of what kind I’m not sure) I actually had been to a sex toy party prior and it was quite an interesting event. I learned all kinds of facts about all kinds of women I hadn’t met prior to that night. And there are always wonderful snacks! And I thought “Well, here I also know basically all of these girls so this should be fine.”

I called my friend “Duves.”

“Duves, are you going to the party?”
“Yeah!”
“Did you know it’s a sex toy party?”
“Yeah! ‘Naddy’ won’t come!”
“Why not?!”
“I don’t know.”
“But I’m here for like a day and am taking a carry-on back to Boston and I’m going!”

So Duves and I decided to go together. I blatantly told my parents where I was going (I just don’t care in my old age) and jumped into the Duvemobile, which time and again is a machinized metaphor for its driver- speedy and low to the ground.

We walked into the home of the hostess with the mostest, (what do you think of “Shirley”?) and it was totally mellow with lots of wine and classy snackage. You know the kind I’m talking about.

This would be a real ladies affair. I just knew it.

We all settled into the living room with our wine glasses and now buzzed honesty, and our sales lady Shae introduced herself- no quotes here, she’s the real deal.

“Ladies. I’m going to pass around some samples. I want you to differentiate your left hand as a tasting hand, and your right hand as a smelling hand. We don’t want you tasting what you should be smelling, and we also don’t want you eating things that aren’t supposed to be ingested. You also can tell me while we’re going through products if you like it, Love it, or Gotta Have It!”

“How did I get here?” I thought.
“Are you surprised?” I multiple personalitied.

We started with more demure items: Lubes and Lip glosses, etc. Several edible lubricants were made available for selection.

“Now I’m going to come around and you give me which hand, ladies?”
“LEFT!” all together.
“Now please, this is a nipple arouser. It works VERY WELL! Please only apply a small amount on your finger and not directly on the nipple! Do not burn yourself!”

“Oh my gosh, this is like, really warm. Ing, it’s really warm….I might have put too much on.”
“Not on your nipple though, right?”
“No, stop it. I’m classy. See my wine?”
“I’m not sure what I’m tasting.”
“I have this one in chocolate truffle.”
“You have this one, Duves?”
“Oh yes. I have it, and I use it.”
“I’m glad. Thank you for sharing.”

Now these parties in the most hilarious way are a bit of a slippery slope, much like any other event where you can purchase items but are simultaneously ingesting alcohol of varying quantities. What differentiates these particular parties from others is both the degree and the topic of sharing involved. So as the night progressed and we moved into more serious gaming, dialogues began to shift.

“Well, I think if you are 42 and haven’t found your g-spot…you’re not gonna find it.”
“Is that black? Are you sure it’s black?”
“I have that! I put it on and lay in front of the fan.”
“Oh mah GOD I love that…I have it in white suffle.”
“Well, I really don’t have one, but I have tried one before…”
“I need to replennnnnish my drink.”
“Wait…can I use that down there?”
“I know I’ve had too much to drink when I start showing people my pancake size nipples!!”
“And then somewhere in the night, I lost those marble things.”

When the wine sets in, the vibrators come out. This is no coincidence. We’re talking some high end gear here, people. And having been in basically every sex store in the Boston and Pittsburgh area for various reasons (generally for art’s sake) I would like to think I know what I’m talking about.

“Girls, this is the real deal here. I know these are a little more expensive but they last a very long time. Literally and figuratively. So if your partner is out of town, and you need a little time to yourself, this is the toy for you. Now I’m just gonna pass these around”

“So what do you think of this one?”
“I don’t know, I can’t get it to turn off. I feel like that could be bad.”
“I think you just press THAT part.”
“Wait, no, now it’s faster.”
“Press it again. Maybe that’ll work.”

I can now report that the highest selling item is in fact a vibrator. So when you’re on Jeopardy and it’s Sex Toys for Five Hundred….

“Alright ladies, now how many of you have read 50 Shades of Grey? Well we’ve got the real McCoy right here.”

The Bondage Gear.

At this phase of my life I hadn’t yet had the ultimately absurd experience of reading 50 Shades, and perhaps therefore didn’t express the same perplexed yet hesitant look as some of my cohorts. But then again my face always does things I don’t know about. My point is all of a sudden there was some kind of harness in the middle of the room. Massive props (pun?) to Shae for making what followed look easy.

“Now I just slide my foot in here, and if I pull on this strap, it lifts my leg up, if I want, parallel to my head.”
A collective “OOohh wow…”
“So this is great for when you really just wanna take it easy and frankly, don’t have the energy to be raising those legs up all the time! Let him do the work!”

“I kind of want one of those. I’m pretty flexible.”
“That’s good, Duves.”

“Who would like to hold the riding crop?”

We were given the opportunity to make our purchases in private and were I not taking a carry-on home the next day (can you imagine?) what a bevy of things I could have bought. But being stopped at security for a harness and/or dildo wasn’t the way I would want to go out. I actually don’t know what way I would want to be remembered in airport security, but I felt fairly certain that wasn’t it.

So while purchases were being made, wine-enthused dialogues were occurring on the back porch.

“I just don’t think I could have someone put their, ew, I just, no!”
“Nobody’s worried about it but you, Olive!”
“I think she was using or something, and then he made some comment about what it was doing to her weight, and that was just it for her.”
“Is Mindy ok? I think she’s asleep over there.”
“And I’m pretty sure that’s when the cops came.”
“This kid in my 9th grade algebra said mine was huge, and I never forgot it. But he sat all the way on the other side of the room so I was always like what?”
“Duves, that might be our cue…”

Suddenly some of us were called in when someone’s goody bag had gone missing. No one was coming forth or being accused of taking said goody bag, and a minor search ensued with a group of wine-filled ladies wandering around and intermittently stopping for more snacks. However ultimately it would be found the following morning in Shirley’s 10 year old son’s bedroom where one of the girls had hidden it after a bit too much.

And so to conclude, these things are hysterical. And I have to give a shout out to Shae, because she made everything a riot and I fully endorse contacting her and her company for future parties!

Hope you enjoyed and like the new layout :)

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3 thoughts on “… On Sex Toy Parties

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