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A Butthole Party Was the Event I Never Knew I Needed
The evening when I learned to see the anus in a whole new light
I’m blessed with a friend circle composed predominantly of fellow perverts—a descriptor I consider both a compliment and a term of endearment—and therefore do not lack access to events that deviate from your run-of-the-mill social gathering.
There have been private play parties, birthday orgies, indie porn screenings, dirty storytelling slams, and workshops on everything from spanking and erotic humiliation to wax play, DIY whip-making, and so on. But, until last Saturday, I had not been to a butthole party—and, never in a million years had I guessed that I’d come out of it describing it as a wholesome, bonding, cathartic, and even profound experience.
I can sense you already may have some questions so I’ll back up and start by answering the most obvious one:
What on earth is a butthole party?
As far as I know, it isn’t an actual thing (yet), but after this experience, I’m convinced it should be. More on that later…
The event was initiated by a kink and fetish photographer in my circle with the premise that all attendees would volunteer to sit (or, rather bend over) for a close-up portrait of their…
