CARNAL NATION

Sex, drugs and rock’n’roll: I’ve heard it all my life. They go together, right? But I’ve never thought that sex and rock’n’roll should actually happen simultaneously. I love rock’n’roll too much for that.

You should never put music on when you’re fucking me—that is, if you want me to pay any attention to you at all.  When music I love is on, I’m spellbound. I can focus on nothing else, and there’s precious little that can take me out of my trance. Once I was fucking a guy whose brilliant idea was to put on a mix of 60’s psychedelic classics while we got down and dirty. There he was, on top of me, pounding away, and I’m, like: “Wow. Listen to those chords! No one did it as good as The Zombies.”  I’m beating time on his back, on the bed, excitedly waiting for the next track. “Oh! It’s ‘Come on Down to My Boat,’ by Every Mother’s Son.  I LOVE that song!” The man in my bed was the last thing on my mind. So imagine my surprise when I discovered how good fucking to music can be.

My boyfriend and I took the Ohmibod to a weekend orgy in the country. You know: fall foliage, pumpkins, apple-picking, fucking—one of those weekends. It was a house party hosted by my friend Bill and his wife Cindy.  First he and my boyfriend Martyn made me comfortable on a couch in front of the fireplace.  Martyn slipped headphones on my head and handed me the Ohmibod.  It’s a long, fuscia, penis-sized, vibrating cigar that’s wireless, and works with your iPod or other music player. It vibrates to the beat of whatever music you dial up. Martyn plugged his music player into the Ohmibod’s wirelesss transmitter and “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John was the result of his random shuffle. It’s not exactly a fuckalishious choice, but I do love that song. So there I am, legs splayed, at a fuck party in Connecticut, playing with myself in the middle of the room, and I’m alone, in my own world. It’s pleasant: stroking that big buzzing fuscia dick up against my wet pussy, sliding it in and out of my cunt as I bliss out to memories of the bus scene in “Almost Famous.”

But then my friend Bill figures out just how to make sex and rock’n’roll work together. He’s a tech geek. He has this bitchin’ idea: put a splitter on the headphones! I guess he wants to get in there with me. My boyfriend spins the music player dial again, and this time I get—Oh! Much better!—the first Led Zeppelin album. For some reason, he’s got it on track 8: “I Can’t Quit You Baby.”  I’m on my back with my legs in the air, and my boyfriend puts a condom over the elegantly smooth surface of the Ohmibod, lubes it up, and starts buzzing it around my asshole. Bill puts his headphones on, moves in front of Martyn, and climbs between my legs. He and I are connected to the Ohmibod via the headphone jack splitter, so we’re both hearing the music. Bill slides his dick into me and starts fucking my pussy. Meantime, Martyn slides the pulsating Ohmibod into my ass. What a nice buzz! I feel it in my ass and pussy, and it pulses faintly in time to the music. It seems like it might need a strong, steady beat to really throb. Probably techno or hip hop would work better, but there’s no way I’m fucking to that stuff. It’s just not my thing. Right now for Bill and  me, the Omibod gets the stronger beats, and each time Jimmy Page wails off in a solo, I’m feeling it deep down inside. (It’s not that I didn’t feel it deep down inside without the Ohmibod since I was sixteen, Jimmy, but this is a nice plus.) Bill’s feeling the vibrations through my pussy, and I’m feeling it as well as his thrusts.  We’re climbing our own Stairway to Heaven, and this truly fuckin’ rocks.

Great!  The next track is “How Many More Times.”  Oh yeah, Ohmibod. You got something there. I’ll be doing this many more times again.

The Freestyle is a fun and freaky upgrade to OhMiBod's Club Vibe, which this Contessa had the pleasure of reviewing several months ago. When my Freestyle first arrived in the mail, I was immediately impressed by the packaging, and my roommates absolutely salivated over the sweet plastic carrying case. But the fun was just beginning…

This is a toy that literally takes the musical experience to another level with its ability to vibrate to the beat and intensity of whatever tune the user is currently grooving to on their iPod or home speaker system. The Freestyle also earned points with this writer for a sequence of manual vibrating patterns that came in handy a handful of times when her Sansa Fuze was on the fritz. 

I was particularly impressed by the vibrator's wireless control, rechargeable nature, and added versatility. While the Club Vibe's vibrating pink bullet hit my clit just right, I was pleased to use the penetrative Freestyle to hit my G spot. Its modest girth lent itself quite well to anal play with my partner, as well. And the beat goes on...

I did quite a bit of research into the effects different musical genres would have on my pleasure. Thankfully, I can say that country western did little for me. Techno provided a strong and steady beat, but did little in the way of emotional arousal. I'm a girl that requires some imagination to get going, so I thoroughly enjoyed listening to such sexy songs as Bright Eyes' "Lover I Don't Have to Love" and the Bob Marley/Lauren Hill mix of "Turn the Lights Down Low."

Although the lyrics of "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" by Isaac Hayes aren't terribly erotic, the song definitely did the trick for me with a slow and steady build-up culminating in quite a climactic cacophony. Oh, Isaac! That Freestyle shaft—never can say goodbye!

I also give two thumbs up to the music of Mum and Sigur Ros in conjunction with the Freestyle.

But buyer beware! Always be sure to switch off the vibrations before licking the Freestyle clean post-play. Beneath the velvety pink finish, there is nothing soft about this personal massager. I nearly chipped a tooth!

This splash-proof toy is a steal at $130, and a must-have for sexually liberated music lovers everywhere. Love to love you, Baby!

Dear OhMiBod,

You were a fun ride the first time I met you, but wow, you’ve really matured and developed since our first dance. Change is sexy, and your presentation is tight; you look neat, professional, and sleek. You are more organized and powerful this time around, and despite the constant cravings I’ve had since we’ve been reunited, I have never felt you falter under the pressure of my demands. You are my ideal. Just like the 1950s housewife says on my cocktail napkins, “I like my drinks like I like my men, neat but with a twist.”

For readers who may not follow the Toolbox consistently, I first met OhMiBod this past spring and became entranced immediately. In June I shared with readers the strong connection I feel between sexuality and music, so discovering an adult toy that creatively found a way to intertwine the eroticism of both, was enough reason for me to put down my Hitachi Magic Wand and start paying attention.

Despite the ingenuity of OhMiBod, I wasn’t completely blown away with the reliability of the Club Vibe. It felt like the company almost had the perfect toy, but the technology just wasn’t quite up to par yet for my tough expectations. This time around I have no complaints. The Freestyle, OhMiBod’s latest stroke of genius, has proved itself worthy of receiving a permanent position in my small pile of favorite toys. No, this toy will not go back in its fancy box, but instead it will remain in my everyday toy bag. (Yes, I masturbate almost everyday.)

What makes the Freestlye so wonderful—aside from its brilliant technology and hip packaging—is that the toy takes you far away from your daily stresses. When I put the headphones on and plug my Freestyle into my iPod, it’s just the music and my pleasure. Nothing else. There are no distractions—just the beat of the music thumping in perfect unison to the twitching inside me. The synchronization of the musical beat to the pulsation of the toy is divine, and since the stimulation of the vibe correlates to the volume of the music I am playing, it is easy to become lost in delicious abandonment since I cannot hear the low hum the vibe makes.

I loved experimenting with the mixes on my iPod to see which playlist got me most excited! Obviously anything with a fast beat could have gotten me off, but the decadence of this toy lies in the ability of the user to balance their musical tastes with the mood they are in. Sometimes I want to get off fast, and other times I like to slowly tease myself. Since I was choosing music from mixes I’d already made, it was very easy for me coordinate my mood with the beat I craved. For example, when I was feeling like a randy little school girl at a strip club, I put on my 80s rock mix and let the sounds of Aerosmith, Motley Crüe, and Prince force me to undulate around on my bed. When I felt like celebrating the kinky lady that I am now, I sat in my queen's chair, parted my gown, and put on the following mix:

• "Samba le Berger" by Wais Diop
• "Feeling Good" by George Michael
• "Feelin’ Lovin'" by Paula Cole
• "I Put a Spell on You" by Nina Simone
• "Everything I Do Gonna Be Funky from Now On" by Lee Dorsey
• "Fortune Teller" by Robert Plant and Allison Krauss
• "Love is a Stranger" by the Eurythmics
• "You Sexy Thing" by Hot Chocolate
• "Ride Your Pony" by Lee Dorsey
• "Yummy" by Gwen Stefani

I was, indeed feeling yummy head to toe! Thank you!

Much hot, passionate, lyrical love,

Nadia