Not since the discovery of Spanish Fly has there been such a buzz. This new pink pill is going to hasten the next sexual revolution. I’ve been working closely (not really) with the developers of the wonder-woman drug (it’s not), and I have unique (not really) insights (again) into what you frisky ladies can expect.
First, we need to discuss side-effects. Don’t worry, they do not include rectal bleeding unless, of course, you become so horny that you decide to cram an eggplant up your ass, stem first. (Don’t do that. Zucchini, maybe. Eggplant, nope.) Here’s a list of things that could result from taking it:
- You could fuck your not-so-cute, but kind of funny and cuddly like a teddy bear, neighbor. That’s going to make things awkward. Blame the pill, or tell him you have vag fungus.
- Possible flooding from too much time in the tub trying to position your throbbing love bean under the faucet. You could also burn yourself when trying to adjust the spigot with your feet.
- Your husband is going to begin scouring your cell phone and email because he can’t find any good reason why all of a sudden having sex with him involves screams of joy instead of yawns of dullness.
- You’ll look at certain appliances and devices in a whole new way. Washers on spin cycle, electric toothbrushes, doorknobs, banisters, and even decorative pillows will cringe as you stare.
- You might actually stay in a bar after last call, in the odd chance that Chase, the bartender, and his shaven chest is serious about taking you home with him (and his three roomies).
- You’ll begin to take back all the rude comments you made about Steph and her drunken sexual exploits including lesbian experimentation, peeing on her husband, Ralph, and screwing a college Freshman while high on E.
There are specific directions for Lady V use and, if you don’t follow them, I won’t responsible for your clit blisters.
First, they go in your mouth. Putting them “down there” won’t work. If you need to speed things up (his boner is becoming boneless), go ahead and chew one. I suggest you wash it down with some nice Prosecco.
Second, it’s perfectly fine and acceptable to tell the man you’re about to drain that you’ve taken the pill. Men don’t even give even one tiny shit. Anything you say that ends with “before I have sex with you” will be ignored.
Third, you’ll only need to buy five or so. Once men realize vaginas are open for extended business hours, those men will take their paychecks directly to Rite Aid and stock up on enough pills to choke a horse.
Last, you’re going to need to find a better excuse than “I’m not in the mood” because he’ll insist you simply take a thrill pill. I suggest diarrhea. You don’t need to actually have it. The thought alone should send him spanking.
There are numerous commercials in the works. Finally, we can stop watching bumpit-headed Flo pimp insurance. Instead, she’ll be in a hot tub on an ocean cliff watching the sunset as she positions the jets on her meaty, red love button. Another will feature the wife doing dishes as hubby sashays up behind her, nibbles her neck, and whispers.
“Hey, sweetie. You feelin’ frisky?”
Before Lady V: “Jesus Christ, can’t I have ten minutes to myself? Get that thing away from me.”
After Lady V: “Get those jeans off and give me that cock now! Ram it so deep that my nose bleeds.”
“Honey, I’m bringing Chinese food home tonight. I was thinking maybe we could send the kids to your mother’s and have a date night. What do you think?”
Before Lady V: “Screw Chinese food. Bring home a blue box, and maybe I’ll go down on you after Top Chef is over.”
After Lady V: “I’m touching myself right now, dreaming of your meatiness. Hurry home, stud monkey.”
Women, rejoice! No longer will you need to wade through ten pages of horrible prose to get off. It’s time for the miracle pill to end all vaginal drought.
So, ask yourself, when the time comes, will you be ready? I know I’m ready. I’ve cleared the Advil and old cologne from my medicine cabinet. Now, it’s one row of Lady V and one row of morning-after pills. How you doin’?
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