But prescribing Viagra for my boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed like fun. We actually chose three products to test -- VigRX Oil, Semenax, and Viagra -- with the goal of finding out which sexual enhancer is the best from a female perspective. After all, why shouldn't modern sex medicine benefit us women?
Experiment 1: VigRX Oil
We started with a "topical Viagra" called VigRX Oil. VigRX made so many claims that I was surprised it didn't guarantee membership into the Justice League, perhaps as a superhero named Cockman.
Would you trust these guys with your penis?
The first red flag was my call to customer service. I couldn't find anything on the website about what it would do to me (the woman).
Don: "My name's Don, what product would you like to order?"
Me: "Hey Don. I already ordered your product. It's the VigRX Oil. Look, it's a Saturday night and I'm about to get laid, and I just wanted to check in. Is it safe for this oil to go inside of me, or should we wash it off before we shove his hot dog into my bun?"
Don: "You don't need to wash it off."
Me: "But should I?"
Don: "No you don't need to."
Me: "So you don't think I need to, but if you had a vagina, would you?"
Don: "No. You don't need to."
Me: "Don. You're not really saying much here. Will his erection last for hours?
Don: "It depends."
Me: "Could it last for hours?"
Don: "It depends."
Me: "Will it last four minutes."
Don: "It depends."
Me: "So, what you're saying is it depends, or maybe yes, maybe no, or you don't know."
Don: "Well, that depends."
The only depends I care about are the ones I'll need later in life when I can't control my bladder. So, we open the bottle.
The liquid is an unpleasant brownish/red, a bonus for anybody with a menstruation fetish. We smell the product, which doesn't exactly smell like teen spirit, more like house cleaner. We're not sure exactly how to use it, so again we seek out the site.
No, you suggest masturbation because it might be the only way to get hard with this product. But I'm getting ahead of myself (no pun intended).
We decide we need a control. Before placing any enhancements on his schlong, I suck. It takes him a little over two minutes, a claim that VigRX promises to beat. We then decide to tape measure his super-stud length, but debate where to measure from. I eventually give in to his ways, although I think he's a cheater, and we measure from where his pubic hair meets his flesh. I make a promise not to write in the length, even though he's nicely above average (the average is 5.877 inches). We wait for it to slump, sort of like Lindsay Lohan after a night drinking with friends. It takes a while, and I suggest calling my Jewish grandmother to hear her kvetch. With that thought, it gives in.
We apply a few drops of the VigRX Oil onto his man meat. I don't let him touch it, because I need to see how VigRX works without masturbation. Five minutes pass and still nothing. I pour on another quarter of the bottle and wait. Another five minutes - still nothing. This is taking longer than Britney Spears's first marriage.
I decide to open up and say aahh. I taste it and almost puke. Now I know what medicine would taste like if it came in ketchup flavor. It's a bad idea and I can't go back down. I try my hand at things. It's sticky and hard to play with, like a honey and peanut butter massage. I get grossed out. He decides to rub his banana, even though I'm willing to split. We both feel like this is a serious case of drunken dick, only nobody's drunk. He feels like he's masturbating with blood, and by now I'm totally turned off. Sixteen minutes pass, and the tent is finally pitched. And then our cat takes the smelliest dump ever.
So he gets an erection, only it's about as pointless as Stevie Wonder visiting an art museum. We smell our cat's dump in the living room, and combined with the smell of the snake oil, we can't stay in the mood. Plus, although I'm on the pill, I've decided that he needs to bag it before he can bang me. But as he enters my love tunnel, things start to sag. We shift his stick, and he pushes his way inside. His rod has as much feeling as a paraplegic's legs. The oil has made him numb. Our sex lasts a whole twenty seconds.
I'm not a quitter, well, okay, sometimes I am, but even if I wasn't, this time I want to be. I'm exhausted: it took so much effort, he's got less stamina, and his erection is half an inch smaller. The only "new depths" I want to go to are under my blanket. Contrary to their claims, there are no thrusts, no new pleasure. And forget "begging," I'm not even groveling.
As we drift off to sleep, I wonder: will we have better luck with our next experiment?
