Sex

A Bluetooth-Enabled Vibrator Made Me Reconsider Sexual Intimacy

As a blogger for a media website, I often write about personal experiences and sometimes I’m given free products to advertise under the guise of narrative. The OhMiBod® blueMotion™ is a Bluetooth™ enabled vibrator that's "perfect for couple play," so...

by Kara Crabb
Aug 11 2014, 7:47pm



Illustration via the author.
My lover is a luddite. He says he doesn’t want to rely on technology because he doesn’t want to feel its absence if ever it were to be taken away. For example, last week Earth skimmed the boundaries of a solar storm, which could have seriously disabled the planet’s electricity grids. Matt would have likely been inconvenienced, whereas I would have likely killed myself before its repair.

As a blogger for a media website, I feel very integrated with technology. I often write about personal experiences and sometimes I’m given free products to advertise under the guise of narrative. The OhMiBod® blueMotion™ Bluetooth™ enabled vibrator sat quietly in a bed of pink packaging paper. The small box depicted a man on an armchair pointing his smartphone at a female who seemed to be dancing. The inner pamphlet said that the device was “perfect for couple’s play,” so I stowed it aside and waited for Matt to come home from work. I was sort of confused by the company’s marketing objectives, ultimately, but curious to test its wares.

When Matt came home we took turns ridiculing the product, which was probably just a result of our insecurity or nervousness.

“Why would anyone want this?” laughed Matt. “Why wouldn’t I just control you with my hands?”

I put on the included, One Size Fits Most thong and inserted the vibrator into its anterior pocket. I stood in front of the mirror, reminding myself of "The Invisible Fence,” with commercials showing dogs running happily, rehabilitated by their electric collars.

Matt orchestrated the vibrations with an accelerometer function called “Wave," (the frequency intensified according to what angle the phone was held.) The paradox of being disconnected and connected to Matt’s movement initiated some strange, telepathic kind of titillation. I imagined this product would be great for severely handicapped people who could manipulate the lightweight, touchscreen intuitiveness of a smartphone, but never the sheathing poundage of full-grown adult. For me, it was hard to ignore the ridiculousness of wearing a remote-controlled vibrator, and inherently fucking my phone, while a fully-abled man to whom I’m attracted sat aside, largely unengaged.

“I don’t know what they expect me to write,” I said finally. I curled up in the crux of his armpit and he kissed me on the forehead. He said, “Why don’t you just outline the pros and cons.”

We continued experimenting with a few functions until I got so irritated that I ripped off the thong and threw it at the wall. The ubiquity of sensation imposing on me, without my control, was overwhelming. When Matt pulled me close to him, thankfully Bluetooth™ deactivated and the connection was lost. We made love with just our bodies.


The One Size Fits Most thong where the remote-controlled magic happens. Image via OhMiBod.
The next morning it was raining. I went to a café near our apartment and tried to write about the experience. I felt prohibited by the constant negativity of my thoughts, and considered working as a barista instead. I walked downtown beneath the shelter of my umbrella, contemplating the nature of the OhMiBod® blueMotion™ Bluetooth™ enabled wearable-massager, deciding that I was overcomplicating the task and needed to try again with better, avid optimism.

Matt arrived later than usual, as he’d been working on finishing a project. After a late dinner, I gave him head while he toyed with different angles and rhythms, which felt nice on my clitoris. Afterwards Matt explained that he felt very fulfilled knowing I was being stimulated simultaneously. We talked about perhaps connecting with Wi-Fi (available only through in-app purchase), to perform long-distanced clitoral orgasms while we are apart.

For two days I hovered around my notebook, cataloging the details of the experiences. One morning, after breakfast, Matt had received news that a friend from Uganda was coming to visit him at the university where he does research work. He was overjoyed and tried to explain the significance of their friendship to me, but I was so engrossed in my work that I snapped at him and he promptly left the apartment.

There was soft thunder and dampened flashes of lightning with long breaks in between. I watched the garden plants swing vigorously in the wind, while trying to repress my anxiety for its fresh, young stalks. Matt came home very late from work. We had texted each other earlier but were acting skittishly face-to-face. I found him in the bedroom at midnight, with the vibrator buzzing independently next to his head, resting on a pillow.

“It’s not very responsive to touch,” he said. He tapped on the touchscreen to demonstrate. “It won’t even sync—”

“Maybe it’s because I updated the operating system,” I offered. “Or maybe it’s just a piece of shit.” When I saw my editor in-person, I told him about how aggravating it had been to use the demo. He asked if there was anything positive I could say about it and I nodded. I genuinely believed it would be valuable for someone with muscular dystrophy or cerebral palsy or something compromising the mind-body relationship.

After going to a concert, Matt and I were very hungover for much of the following day. Some friends had come to visit us from out of town, and were rehearsing soft music in the living room. I was alone in bed, staring at a square of sunshine moving on the wall, constantly distorting leftwards. At some point I became aroused and started touching myself with my hand. I became even more aroused thinking about the OhMiBod® blueMotion™ Bluetooth™ enabled wearable-massager, and actually considered grabbing it from off the floor. Then I thought about sifting through my bag, getting the phone, opening the app, and weeding through all the functions, before deciding that it was too complicated. Then I considered grabbing the vibrator without the phone, but by that point I had been losing too much momentum.

I inserted one finger and pressed on the upper back wall, which expanded and excreted fluid as the prostate became more stimulated. As I approached climax, all of the muscles in my body constricted—the nerves around my temples and ears tingling increasingly. I could feel the cervix convulsing, wide and tight, repetitively, as my heart rate sped and its vascular extremities bloomed. There was a brief moment of absence at the height of orgasm, extinguishing my ego’s lull. If this quiet could be harnessed and simulated too, it would prove one lucrative commodity.

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