I cringed when I saw the evite appear in my inbox this afternoon. I’d heard a rumor it was on the way. I cringed then too. It is an invitation to a toy party. A sex toy party. I cringed again as I scanned the rather lengthy list of women invited to partake in the festivities. Why oh why oh why oh why?
A while back, Wendy and I managed to avoid the party featuring a male stripper. While it’s nice to be included, I truly wondered why we were even invited. Turns out our friends think Wendy and I are fun at parties. Okay, great. But a male stripper? No offense intended to you males out there. I know many of you are quite proud of your bodies and equipment, some of you even rightfully so. Far be it from me to diminish that pride. But really. Who invites lesbians to watch a male strip?
The hostesses of this upcoming sex toy party are good friends of ours, dedicated heterosexuals. We’ve gotten wild and crazy with them over the years. We talk about sex, sure. I’ve even demonstrated my expert bra removal skills to them. No, not my own bra. Theirs. Now that was an interesting gathering that solidified my reputation as a lesbian extraordinaire among our heterosexual friends. Everyone needs a party trick, right?
I try to imagine what this gathering will be like. Will there be demonstrations? Testimonials from satisfied users? Free samples?
I’m not a prude. I adore sex and sex toys are not a foreign concept. I’m certainly confident enough to sit around with other women, fondle dildos and imaginatively discuss how they are best used. I could contribute to said discussion in a very clinical and matter-of-fact way as well as in a more, shall we say, abstract manner.
Yet some of the invitees I barely know and others not at all. It’s one thing to address such… um... personal matters with close friends. It’s another thing altogether to do so with strangers.
I don’t know if I want them to know that much about me. I know I don’t want to know that much about them!