Tonight I went to my very first dildo party. When used in the same sentence, the nouns "dildo" and "party" can often stir up some rather colorful thoughts. Unfortunately, this particular dildo party was more like a tupperware or avon gathering where the main goal of the evening wasn't at all about having fun with your lady friends, rather selling goods to a group of chuckling hens.
All party guests sat before the "Passion Party" representative, (Check out their website HERE) a blonde 30ish woman who claimed to also work as a pharmaceutical technician, passed around her stock - lotions, lubes, desensitisers, amplifiers, odor repellers, vibrators, vaginal strengthening orbs, anal beads, dick holsters, a sex pillow and (my favorite) a love swing. She doused each lady with vanilla warming lotion, bedsheet spray, and spring rain pheromones, which she assured us "weren't from pigs". The room instantly began to smell just like the inside of a NYC taxi (christmas tree air fresheners, cigarettes, fast food, armpit, ball and vaginal odor).
She dropped a dollop of cream on hands and instructed guests to lick."This stuff will numb your throat. So when your giving your special guy a treat, and he starts to push your head back and forth and the mascara streams from your eyes onto the bedsheets, you won't gag."
Most of her cushy, rotating, double pronged, tilt-a-whirl sex toys were made from toxic phthalates, but when I mentioned this fact to her, she seemed oblivious.
Overall, the event was uncomfortable, unsexy, unsisterly, and irksome. Call me old fashioned, but I happen to like the real smell of parts, fingers, mud, sticks and don't want my junk swathed in banana favored collagen.