No man is safe. It should be banned for sale to women

excerpt

http://comment.independent.co.uk/commentators/article2272173.ece
was starting to sweat. I fled to the loo in search of deodorant, and
found two bottles of Viara in the host's cabinet. In my drunken state,
I decided that I could justify one last shag with Paul in the name of
scientific research. Deciding to sleep with him after our split felt
like ordering tiramisu after a four-course meal: I knew I was going to
be naughty, and wanted to savour it. So, I took two pills and returned
to the sofa.

For the next half-hour, nothing happened. I was starting to feel
disappointed when Paul's hand accidentally brushed against my thigh.
That's when I felt the tingling sensation in my nether regions, and
could hear my heart hammering in my ears. Incapable of rational
conversation, I felt light-headed as the blood deserted my brain and
rushed elsewhere.

"Cat, do you have a fever or something?" he asked, concerned. "You
look a bit flushed."

"I think I need to get my coat," I told him, sweating. "Can you help
me find it?"

As soon as we got to the bedroom, I jumped on him. The sex was wild.
In addition to the intense sensations, the drug also made me act like
a man. Normally, when I'm focused on the other person, I neglect my
own pleasure. But, entangled in the pile of parkas, I had multiple
orgasms, and was completely selfish. Paul loved it. We kept at it
until the pounding of blood in my ears was replaced by the pounding of
an irate woman looking for her fox-fur coat.

The only side effect was a light headache the next morning