I Ate Sex Dust For A Week In Order To Boost My Libido
The Debrief: Will the Goop-approved aphrodisiac actually do anything?
There was that time a teenage crush straddled me in a Spurs shirt and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I supported West Ham. Also, it was her Dad’s and it smelt of Bovril.
Or when I secretly drove all the way from London to Bristol only to find that my girlfriend – who I was planning to surprise with a sexy little gift – had decided to visit family for the weekend and I had to turnaround and drive straight back. In a thong.
And then there was Jayne Cockrell. What more could a Year 8 desire than the geeky girl in the year above with milk bottle specs and blonde bowl-cut. She was the lovechild of Velma and Fred from Scooby Doo shipped off to the West Country so that Daphne didn’t find out and I would woo her with a rose in a shoebox.
A rose. In a shoebox. A Clarks shoebox. Yup. Jayne Cockrell and I… nope.
Older and wiser (hmmm) these days I don’t go for the elaborate VD gifts (and I certainly wouldn’t refer to them as VD if I did). Instead, packing away the scented candles and indoor picnic (what were we thinking?), this year I went down the road less travelled. I gave my girlfriend me, all souped up on Sex Dust.
Sex Dust, if you've never heard of it, was developed by LA-based company Moon Juice and championed by Gwyneth Paltrow, Sex Dust is a cocktail of powdered, ‘wild crafted’ herbs; an ‘aphrodisiac warming potion’ that will ‘ignite, excite, and cultivate the sexual flow send[ing] waves of sensitivity and power to all the right places, as it supports your primordial energy and vital essence…’
Yeah yeah yeah but will it make my dick harder? I took it for a week to find out.
First day in the Sex Dust saddle and I’m pretty excited. Admittedly, receiving the courier’s package wearing nothing but a hand-towel was probably a bit much – the poor chap nearly fell down the stairs – but it just goes to show how much I want to give this bad boy a run out.
And first impressions? It looks like an instant chocolate milk powder – a kind of naughty Nesquik. I add a teaspoon to a cup of warm milk, stir and taste. Hmmm. Nope. Not chocolate milk at all. It’s bitter and there are bits in my teeth. But I’m not here for the flavour so I neck it and head to the bedroom for a solo excursion.
Two minutes later and I’m whacking my member about like I’m trying to kill a fish. I don’t know what I expected: Instant hard on? A Pinocchio style protrusion? I take another dosage. Nothing doing. ‘Tomorrow’, I say to myself, patting my boxers. ‘Tomorrow the real trial begins.’
When you invite someone round to try out a sex tonic it’s probably best not to eat a really fiery pizza beforehand because, well, chillies and sex go together like bears and cheese in that no one, ever, in their right mind, would think of putting the two together. Except me.
A double dosage of Sex Dust only seems to make the rumble in my tummy-tumble that little bit worse. Meanwhile, my ‘junk’, as they say is relatively dormant so, instead of fucking, we just watch Game of Thrones. Hot.
Today, rather than gorge myself on dust I decided to explore the science behind this strange little cocktail of lust. Sex Dust promises to make blood flow to all the right places but how exactly does it do that? Well, it contains numerous compounds all bringing different elements to the party.
Shilajit, for instance, is believed to stimulate the brain; maca restores hormone levels; Ho Shu Wu is known as the ‘longevity herb’ because it aids blood production and maintains stamina; and icariin, found in epimedium and also known as Horny Goat Weed, increases levels of nitric oxide, which relax muscle – injections in rats and rabbits have shown an increase in penile blood pressure.
Now all you can think about is little rat boners, right? Me too.
Nothing says dedication to the cause than an afternoon sex session and dosed up on Sex Dust we’re at it like beavers. Beavers I tell you.
Perhaps a psychosomatic element is at play? Maybe the compounds are finally doing what they’re supposed to do? Who cares? I’m hornier than a rhino wearing a coat of horns. And sturdier than a spanner. I could literally hang a coat on it. Okay, maybe not my leather jacket but, you know, like a cagoule or something would be fine.
The coats stay in the cupboard though as we put sex on trial, get found guilty and end up in the slammer. Sex Dust does something to me. It stirs the cockles and it focuses the mind. You know that bit in Star Wars – the first one – when Luke uses The Force to blow up the Death Star? That’s how I feel on Sex Dust. Like everything is in its right place and I don’t need any guidance.
It also leads to a fair amount of chaffing.
Time can be a pretty tedious thing. As the years drag on, the joints begin to ache; the eyes start to strain and the groin – oh the groin! – weeps at the loss of simpler times when the errant stroke of a lover’s fingernail could render a certain region of the body hard enough to hammer a nail in. As a teenager alive with lust I would’ve guffawed at the idea of a ‘libido booster,’ now I praise the Lord that I follow the lifestyle trends of Gwyneth Paltrow. If only I had a uterus, I would steam it with mugwort.
Thank you Sex Dust. Thank you.
The lady left long a go. I can only presume she grew tired of my endless prodding erection; I was too busy spooning Sex Dust right into my horny little mouth to notice. Over the next few hours I go from nail polish emoji to crying face. Houston, we have a problem.
I pen numerous emails with ‘I’m bed-bound and under the influence of ‘Horny Goat Weed’. Send help.’ in the subject line yet nobody comes. Trapped in a soupy hell of lustful agony, I live in constant fear of priapism.
Sex Dust. I’m over you. I put the little jar in a shoebox and place it under the kitchen sink.
Yes. Sex can be fun and playful and it can also be serious. But it shouldn’t become dependent on something. The first time I did Sex Dust it certainly gave me a kick, there’s no doubting that. But afterwards I was forever chasing that hit, like a little kid watching his favourite balloon disappear over the horizon unaware of all the other balloons (aka awesome fucks) well within his reach.
What have I learned? Don’t substitute real lust for the powdered kind. A spark can’t be dished up in a spoon. Sex dusts… sure, every once in a while. But don’t forget that the biggest sexual tonic of all is the body on the other side of the bed.
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