Lez Confessions: I Smoked Wormwood And My Libido Spiraled Out Of Control

Wormwood is known for its *many* effects on the human body.

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I have a crazy high sex drive (shocking, I know, as if I don’t write about my vagina for a living). So when my friend offered me Wormwood I merely scoffed and said, I don’t need anything to increase my libido, thank you very much.

Wormwood is known for its many effects on the human body: one of them being an aphrodisiac, which is why it was for sale at the Museum Of Sex, where Arran bought it. Its other main use is to expel parasites — which is basically the opposite of an aphrodisiac. Vom.

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Totes didn’t know about the whole you-may-die thing, or I would’ve had one of my signature anxiety attacks. I was also completely grossed out by the name. Can’t they call it “Lust For Life” or “Cherry” or another sexy Lana Del Rey song or literally anything other than f*cking Wormwood?

That name makes me gag. Anyway. My friend Arran knows exactly how to get me to do anything (college was very interesting for this reason) “just try it,”  so the next thing I knew I was puffing on a Wormwood joint. It’s legal, BTW.

As Arran and I smoked and lazily sipped Pinot Noir in his bed (he’s my gay BFF, relax) we talked about the people we were dating, as any power gay BFF pair does.

“She’s sooooo hot, like you don’t understand, Arran,” I went on and on, “even her HANDS are hot.”

“No I get it, I love a nice meaty hand,” Arran mused, dreamily looking up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t mean meaty, I meant WELL KEPT,” I retorted, but Arran was lost in his own fantasy.

We kept puffing and sipping away, and our conversation got more and more explicit. Then I felt something.

Then the urge to cum hit me so hard I had to immediately order an Uber and sprint the f*ck out of his apartment. I dramatically jumped in the car and was tempted to yell “FOLLOW THAT CAB!” Isn’t that what you do when you dramatically jump in a car? But I didn’t. I just focused really hard on not soaking through my leggings. It hit me all at once — I literally felt like a wild animal — it wasn’t even a sexy, sensual feeling. It was more like I-need-to-have-an-orgasm-right-this-minute-or-I-might-die. I was pretty sure the vibrations of the car ride could’ve gotten me off if I wasn’t concentrating so hard on not cumming.

Much to my dismay, my apartment was occupied by my roommate and the devastatingly sexy swag lez she’s dating.

“I like your choker,” she said to me, and my sexual frustration soared to new heights as I pounded red wine. Once I made the necessary amount of small talk about the Super Bowl with them (I don’t know much and neither do they so it was like a two-second conversation) I excused myself to my room. I grabbed my Lovehoney luxury princess vibrator and frantically typed in a porn website.

I clicked on the first video I could find, which was totally disgusting and weird but it didn’t matter to my tripped out AF Wormwood brain. I came in about 15 seconds flat. Once I closed out of the site, and had the porn-comedown of what-in-god’s-name-did-I-just-watch, I checked my text messages. “I think I broke my wrist from masturbating,” Arran texted me. “Same actually,” I responded.

“I need your fingers deep inside of me, now,” I texted the girl with the sexy hands, who is, like, so respectful and sweet and is slightly shook by how goddamn extra I am. But much to my pleasant surprise, she was into it. I bounced between sexting and porn all night and am quite frankly a little disturbed at how much I came.

I still feel the effects — or maybe this is just how I always am, it’s hard to tell. This experience was actually not so out of the ordinary for me as I generally have the sex drive of a teenager going through puberty. My experience was so intense that I can’t fully attribute it to the Wormwood, I partially blame my chapstick lesbian fantasies. Arran isn’t a totally reliable source either, as he’s just as insatiably perverted as me. But either way, Wormwood definitely made me feel high and even more horny.

So, are you interested in trying your own little Wormwood experiment? Of course, you are! Here are some ways to incorporate Wordwood this Valentines Day:

1. Get all dolled up, wear what makes you feel sexiest, put on your favorite sexy music, and roll a Wormwood joint, by yourself. That’s right bitches, by yourself. You will feel high and tingly and sexy and totally in tune with your body. And who can do you like you can? No one, that’s right.

2. Make a romantic Wormwood-infused dinner for bae, including Wormwood cocktails. Recipes here. F*ck going out to dinner because you’ll want to rip each other’s clothes off like the wild beasts you are immediately.

3. Squirt some Wormwood droplets onto your tongue, and head over to The Museum Of Sex. You might have to sprint out of there and into an Uber if things get too intense, but this is a v sexy date idea.

Be prepared to feel tingly and horny AF.

In conclusion, my dear lesbians, I’m not sure if it was the Wormwood or my general sex obsession, but I encourage you to try, cause, like, why not? It can be a fun little Valentine experiment for you and your boo, or you and your vibrator. It gives you a delicious full body high, that when paired with red wine, makes you feel like your floating.  Or maybe if you and bae have different libidos, this could help link them up. Also, I’m not a doctor so please don’t sue me if anything bad happens. Also, too much Wormwood can totally, like, kill you and give you hallucinations! Vincent Van Gogh, Ernest Hemingway, Oscar Wilde, and Edgar Allan Poe all were regular Wormwood users, so be careful.

Happy smoking!

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