In Which There’s A Dildo on the Fireplace

“Is this thing on?” I asked tentatively, tapping on the head of a surprisingly life-like, double sided (well, life-like except for that) dildo. The hoots of laughter from the other women in the room verified that my microphone humor had hit the bulls-eye.

Before I get ahead of myself, I should recap how I found myself sitting in a circle of bawdy women on Friday night, introducing myself and filling them in on my sex life while cradling a synthetic man-member.

A couple of weeks ago, I got a message over the Wonderful World of Facebook from a high school friend. She’d noticed that Army Boy and I had just gotten engaged, and wanted to invite me to a party that she was hosting. A sex toy party. My initial reaction was “HEHEHEHEHEHEHE,” followed by “Hmm. This could be fun. And educational. Plus, it will be a nice chance to get out for a girls’ night.”

I replied before I could think better of it (re: wuss out), and the date was set.

Army Boy was slightly apprehensive about me finding some miraculous new device that could become an indefinite replacement for our sex life, but understood the fact that a: I’m the queen of trying new experiences and b: It would SO be blog material.

Fast forward again, and I arrive at my friends house at the appointed time. She had set up food and alcohol in the kitchen, and the other ladies who arrived filtered in that way. Perhaps as a result of my natural curiosity, I ended up staking out a comfy spot on the couch in the living room, and got a sneak peak of the goods we’d be experiencing. The woman hosting the party, who shall henceforth be known as the Sex-Toy Specialist, had just finished sticking an enormous dildo to the glass of the fireplace (We were informed that its name was Adam), and was lubing up something called an “Enchanted Lotus.”

Apparently Enchanted Lotus translates to “fake vagina.” This is a good thing to know. Especially when you eat at sushi restaurants as frequently as Army Boy and I do.

Our host had been thoughtful enough to invite another girl who was recently engaged, so she and I got to have a brief session of ring-admiring and planning. She’d been engaged for about a week longer than I, but was ahead of the game having already sent out Save-The-Dates and had engagement photos taken.

A pixie-like blonde entered the kitched shortly after, and gestured offhandedly to the women that had accompanied her.

“I brought my Mom,” she managed to deliver with a straight face. “Where’s the booze?”

To my extreme delight, I found that the majority of the other party guests were OB nurses at a local hospital, and were extremely comfortable discussing the female anatomy in all its glory.

We convened in the living room for the party to begin, and the Sex Toy Specialist started her introduction. She held up the infamous double-sided dildo, and instructed us to go around the room and introduce ourselves, then use the first letter of our name to describe our sex lives.

When the Veiny Wonder arrived at me, I paused a minute, cracked a joke, and then confirmed that my name was Brooke, and my newly-engaged sex life was bangin’.

We completed the circle of the room, our discussion getting more bawdy and laughter occurring more frequently.

We kicked off the evening with a testing session of the various lubes, creams and body paints. Most of them were a variation of cherry, which sets me gagging every time. The chocolate body paint was a win, and I somehow got nipple stimulating cream on my nose.

The highlight (and perhaps TMI moment) of the evening was when, during the demonstration of a particularly complicated vibrator, one girl piped up, “Ooo!!! There’s an app for that!”

*cue hysterics from the entire room*

“Wait,” our hosted paused. “Did you then return to putting that phone on your FACE?”

While I won’t post in detail every aspect of the evening (We loose women must have our secrets, yanno), it was actually refreshing to be in a setting where sex lives were candidly being discussed with no fear of judgement or shocking anyone. Most of the women were honest about what their needs were. There was a minimum of exaggeration (I’m looking at you, Little Miss “That Cock Ring Looks too Small, Does it Come in a Larger Size?”), and mostly a wealth of commiseration. Would I suggest this for a bachelorette party, in lieu of boozing and bar-hopping? Hell yes.

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3 thoughts on “In Which There’s A Dildo on the Fireplace

  1. Pingback: The Follow-Up You May Not Have Wanted But Are Totally Getting Anyway. « Txting Mr Darcy

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