Sending Children to Therapy, Part 278

It wasn’t even my party.  i simply offered my home as a “party substrate” – a place where a young friend, a university student without suitable digs of her own, could invite some friends over for a “direct sales” party.  With limited income, she wanted to earn some credits to acquire products essential for survival during her final year in college.

Not my fault she was selling fluids, lubricants and sex toys…

It was a “Pure Romance” party.  Sort of like a Tupperware Party for dildos, instead of air-tight food storage containers.  It’s pretty mild stuff, but provides a nice way to introduce people to the concepts of pleasure augmentation through advances in technology. 

The basic idea?  Invite all your friends over, a Product Hostess demonstrates and discusses items for sales, tasty fluids, lubes and powders are licked from wrists, games are played, food and massive quantities of drink consumed.  It’s just a party.  Attendees may place an order at the end of the evening.  We opted for a co-ed party, which meant no actual implements were displayed.  Or raced across my coffee table*  But it was still fun…

For me there was a gentle bit of awkwardness, however, since both The Boy and The Girl were home… at least when the party started.  They’d both been warned…  As the first attendee arrived?  The Boy was miraculously finished with laundry and escaped out the door to head back to his apartment.  “See you later, good luck with finals…” shouted as he slammed the door and squealed his tires out of the driveway.

The Girl wasn’t quite as efficient.  i had invited her, and her boyfriend, to stick around if they wanted to…  but they managed to have plans, and were gone before too long…  They returned as i was putting away the last of the food shrapnel, and cleaning up the kitchen before heading to bed.  The Party Hostess had left several catalogs and order forms, so i handed one off to The Girl, mentioning that if she still wanted to order something, it could be done directly with the hostess – no “middle mom” involvement required. 

We agreed that this was a bit freaky… even though neither one of us are particularly uncomfortable regarding the subject of sex, it’s strange when the discussion includes “hardware”.  With your Mom…  So we kinda left it at that for the night.

Late morning, i was up and around, scratching my bits and seeking caffeine.  She was at the counter, perusing the wares… and asked “So, are any of these things any good?”, in reference to a particular series of potions.  “Umm… yeah… they’re all ok, i guess….” as i went back to putzing in the kitchen.

Somehow, i just couldn’t bring myself to deliver the same glorious product testimonials i’d provided to the attendees at the party the night before…  Maybe it was just too early in the day? 

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* At a party a couple years ago, i realized that some of the more articulated implements, when powered up to “Eleven”, could be raced.  Wagering occurred.  Perhaps there’s a “Robo-Dong Racing” reality series in my future?

Guitar-Corset Friday (?)

Somewhere in time, Casey, over at the Anthologies of Awesome, suggested we have a “Guitar Friday”… perhaps a variant on “Corset Friday”, held at the one and only gimcrack hospital.  In the spirit of the incredible edible nursemyra, along with my desire to show off my new Gibson, here’s a go at “Guitar-Corset Friday”. 

And once again, for those of you scouting candidates for the Mother of the Year?  Move along… there’s nothing to see here…

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