A close friend of mine (I’ll call her Layla to avoid redundancy) recently moved into a new apartment, and as is seemingly customary everywhere these days, elected to have a housewarming party. I wasn’t initially interested (let’s be honest, shower curtains and scented candles are hardly my thing) until I realized Layla was having a passion party in lieu of a more traditional festivity.
Admittedly, I had never been to a passion party before. I had always assumed that passion parties consisted of giggling women who bought sex toys primarily as gag gifts for the company Christmas party or for a bachelorette surprise. In other words, women I tend to find are totally vanilla in the bedroom and those who ascribe to the old adage, “A lady in the sack/only goes on her back.” Ignoring for a moment that missionary doesn’t top my list of favorite sexual positions, my present occupation beneath Rog (double-entendre for you quick-witted readers out there) allows me unlimited access to all the sex toys I could ever want, and without a marked up shipping and handling charge. Still, despite my reservations, I returned the invite with a mark next to ATTENDING, figuring that even if the party was a disaster, I could probably talk Layla into an after-hours impromptu romp with my latest Doc Johnson Sensations vibrator.
When I arrived at Layla’s apartment, I was surprised to discover that the gaggle of giggling women were actually college students, many of whom were discussing their previous experiences at passion parties. Imagine my surprise at feeling virginal for the first time in five years! Still, given that the free pizza was pretty damn good, I resolved that at the very least, I would probably enjoy this particular deflowering. I also decided that if this virginity surrendering sucked as badly as the first one, I would spike the punch in order to down the disappointment.
We had just arranged ourselves into comfortable sitting positions when a large black woman, lugging three large tote bags, stumbled in, followed by one very skinny white guy. I immediately realized that this matronly figure, called Janice, would be our purveyor of pleasure items, much to my amusement. I excused myself to the restroom to avoid choking on my laughter (and pizza). I made up my mind that regardless of how much pressure Layla or Janice tried to apply, I wouldn’t be buying anything. I’ve never been a fan of pyramid marketing schemes anyway, but especially not for items that I literally have dozens of.
When I returned to the living room, however, I was in for a serious shock. Janice had handed out blurred pictures of naked men and was asking each person to draw their perfect penis. After all of the pictures had been collected, it was decided that Layla’s boyfriend had drawn the perfect penis (mine was disqualified for being too small–ouch!) His prize was a Silver Bullet, much to the jealousy of many female participants, me included. Note to self: must work to raise expectations of perfect penis.
Amazingly, the party proved to be more than I had initially given it credit for. In addition to showcasing some interesting sex toys, Janice also showed us bottles of lotion, lubricant and body paint, many of which were deliciously flavored. It was remarkably enjoyable, dotted with strong sales pitches, impressive items and naughty games that inspired laughter and intrigue from the participants (I’ll put it this way: whichever one of my girlfriends lets me plan her bachelorette party is in big, big trouble) who engaged with a zest that could only accompany sex. By the end of it, I was remarkably turned on at the thought of what I could do to others (and to myself) with the items Janice featured. Completely caught up in the moment, I wrote Janice a check for $61.47, though my only saving grace here is that of the items I bought, none were actually sex toys, so at least I’m not betraying any of my sex toy suppliers.
Although I went home without any spiked punch or receiving any foreplay from Layla, what I did receive (in addition to a new bag full of Silky Sheets Spray, Nipple Nibblers Cream and a receipt for a set of lace garters to be mailed shortly) was a new opinion of embracing sexuality. I urge individuals who are tired of the same old Tupperware or Mary Kay parties to spice up their drive for consumerism with something as thrilling as a passion party. As a matter of fact, I advocate for all women to explore their erotic sides, whether it involves purchasing sexy lingerie, incorporating food into foreplay or simply purchasing the discreet Doc Johnson Finger Buzz (available at pexxx.com), whatever it takes for women to feel inspired, sexy and worthy of self-pleasure.
This also includes men. Many sex toy companies are making even more pleasure items, sexy attire and products for the male ego. Not to mention women think men who can deal with sex toys are mature, sensitive and hot. It’s the perfect formula for a quick hook-up with a single female attendee who is likely to be on the wild side in the bedroom (and anxious to test out any recently purchased product).
Bottom line, both sexes should utilize exploration of passion, whether within the setting of a party or through a private purchase, as perfect opportunities to avoid being vanilla.
