Have Vibe, Will Travel

It was with a certain amount of trepidation that I watched my carryon bag roll toward the airport’s security checkpoint. What would TSA agents make of the high-powered vibrator strapped into my bag? Would they pair this weapon of mass seduction with the arsenal of condoms and lube in my carryon and arrest me on suspicion of intercontinental gigoloing? The question lingered. Was I a reluctant gigolo? I was being flown across country for the express purpose of pleasuring a woman while her kids were away at church camp.  

“Did you bring it?” Melissa asked the moment I unzipped my suitcase in her bedroom.  

I tossed her OhMiBod’s triple stimulator, Adventure. Giggling, she shook the box as though fondling a present on Christmas Eve. A smirk spread across her face while she pretended to read about the toy’s features: seven preset pulsations, six levels of intensity, hypoallergenic, USB rechargeable…  

The device didn’t see action until the next day. A midafternoon nap was scheduled to help me recuperate from jetlag stacked atop a night, morning, and mid-morning of sweltering sex in the southern heat. From the moment we landed on Melissa’s bed, it was clear a nap wouldn’t happen. Initially I grabbed the Adventure as a surrogate for fending off Melissa’s advances while my penis took a siesta—as apparently my penis is Spanish.  

I felt like I was wielding a saber, albeit a pink, silicone blade lacking edges. It looked like a nonlethal weapon of the future used to incapacitate troublemakers with a supersonic jolt.  

As I greased the barrel with water-based lube, Melissa warned me she had never masturbated to completion in front of someone else before. She was too self-conscious. I took this as a challenge.  

The triple stimulator slid effortlessly into place. The ergonomic design allowed the shaft to be buried to the hilt while the vibrating extensions covered Melissa’s clit and asshole. Her initial misgivings about the anal stimulator melted beneath the first flickers of pleasure.  

“Oh!” she said. “That feels kind of good.”  

Unfortunately the impact of the ass probe remained superficial.  

As much as I wanted to practice my swordsmanship, I preferred to see how Melissa used the machine. After feeling out the toy, she found her rhythm. Her dominant hand worked the toy back and forth while the other spread her pussy, exposing her clit to the vibrating bud.  

The Adventure covered every major point of egress, leaving me wondering how best to join the mêlée . Melissa claimed she had once had a nipple orgasm (though she was high on ecstasy at the time). Determined to duplicate the experience, I worked her nipples like I was trying to figure out the knobs on a foreign control panel.  

The Adventure knocked Melissa into the fetal position. She shut her eyes and moaned through clinched teeth. Reaching for something to grab hold of, she found my naked soldier standing at the ready.  

“Put your cock in my mouth,” she said. “Fuck my face.”  

The toy didn’t pair well with vaginal sex, but it seemed to open up other opportunities. Did she feel obligated to return some of the pleasure she was being bombarded with, or had the machine provoked her to such a degree that she craved rougher sex? Whatever the case, I didn’t have the will to disobey such a direct command.  

Waves of ecstasy coursed through her and erupted from her lips. The Adventure had broken through her self-consciousness to help liberate some of her orgasmic potential.  

While Melissa lay catching her breath, I wondered if the vibrator had done too good of a job. Would this technology one-day replace men altogether like an army of terminator, sex-bots?  

This thought vanished when Melissa tossed the toy aside and climbed on me.  

“I want you inside me,” she said, holding me down.  

This was the first time she had ever taken command of our sexual forays. She rolled on my latex armor and mounted up. Our sex escalated to a level of intensity that wouldn’t be matched the rest of the week. Her second orgasm came on quicker than the first.  

“I want you to fuck my ass now,” she commanded.  

As it turned out, a vaginal orgasm was the passcode for gaining admittance into her backdoor.  

I moved cautiously into the foreign territory. For added support, I grabbed the Adventure and flipped off the safety. Initially I envisioned using the toy for a two-pronged plan of penetration, but it was too bulky for this maneuver. In fact, even when I tried to use the shaft as a clitoral stimulator, the extensions kept stabbing our stomachs.  

“Fuck me harder,” Melissa said, grabbing the toy to work her clit while I steadied myself in a more aggressive posture.  

She responded by trying to increase the vibrator’s intensity. In doing so she tapped the “love button,” which switched the machine to one of seven preset pulse patterns.  

“I hate these settings,” Melissa grumbled. “I never use them. They just get in the way.”  

I cycled through the pulsations in search of the constant setting. This is a common problem with luxury vibrators. The fanciful options often do more to obstruct pleasure than to aid it.  

Melissa climaxed a third time, experiencing the full body orgasm she’d come to expect from anal sex.  

As we rinsed off in a cold shower, I asked if she had any suggestions for improving the design.  

“Maybe make the butt stimulator bigger,” she said, smiling, “though all girls aren’t as into butt stuff as me.”  

She said the toy was slightly louder than her other G-spot vibrator, and it required longer to climax. However, the resulting orgasms were more intense and longer lasting. Melissa expected that she’d use her older G-spot vibrator when she needed a quick, stealthy fix. But, she’d grab the Adventure when she had an empty house and enough time for something more intense.  

“Anything else?” I asked, my head bowed beneath the cold shower. Our “nap” had left me drained.  

She wished the clit and anal extensions were more flexible so they could easily bend to her desires.  

“I wish it felt more like your cock,” Melissa said, holstering my unit in a pistol grip with the intention of resurrecting my fallen soldier for a bout of shower sex.  

I’m not naïve enough to take such praise personal, but I’m not above including it in a product review. The complement was in no small part due to the elevated state of arousal the Adventure inspired in Melissa. My initial fears of being replaced by this new technology were put to rest. Maybe I could become a jet-setting gigolo after all. Armed with the triple stimulator, I envisioned myself as a kind of sex android, a vigilante gigolo. Thanks to the delusions of grandeur facilitated by the Adventure, I would hold my head up high the next time I strolled through airport security with enough sexual firepower to invade a foreign territory.  

Order an Adventure and check out more innovative offerings at ohmibod.com  

Read more by Shawn Alff or contact him directly through shawnalff.com