I hadn't played doctor since touching a little girl's boobies in my neighbor's bedroom in third grade, but I was enjoying it. I had prescribed my boyfriend VigRX, which left us both sticky and greasy, and not in the good way. Next we tried Semenax, which made his load bigger, but also set his manhole on fire. Now we were through messing around with our messing around. We were moving on to the real deal: VIAGRA.I'd always imagined a Viagra erection would appear plump and juicy, like a Ball Park Frank. I dreamed we'd go at it for hours, or at least until one of us felt so weak that we must ... have ... food. Sure, I had heard the nightmares: always seeing blue, unhappily never-ending erections, and a lot of pain. While I hate the thought of my boyfriend suffering for my pleasure -- no pain, no gain, right?
Eleven minutes after he took the Viagra, he noticed a tingling down in the pubic forest. Some sort of half-man, half-beast was starting to stir. I expected it to happen Incredible Hulk-style: he'd tense up all over, growl and groan, when suddenly his penis would rip through his tighty whities, all green and muscley. "UNGGGHHH!" it would yell with its tiny mouth. "PENIS STIR! UNNNGGGHHHH! PENIS HUNGRY!" We both watched in silent wonder, waiting for a sign of Viagra's miraculous synthetic might.
Nothing happened.
We wanted the drug to work on its own, so we did the most unsexy things we could think of -- we listened to NPR, cleaned the living room, and fed the cat. Then I called my mother. After thirty minutes, my boyfriend started running around the house, his limp unit swinging side to side, singing, "One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small, and the blue pill that you gave me won't do anything at all."
An hour later, he went to pee. When he returned from the bathroom, he dropped trou. That's when things got strange. He pulled down his pants, and there, not quite hard, and not quite soft, his manhood stuck out, leaning awkwardly, like a drunken hobo propped up against a barstool. "It's weird, because it doesn't feel like it belongs to me," my boyfriend said.
I squeezed the tip and noticed a small drop of liquid emerging from his hole. Thinking it was high-protein man-shake, I eagerly placed it in my mouth. Uh, no, it wasn't. Instead I licked up his leftover drippings from the bathroom. We both laughed, even though it wasn't very funny to me.
Still: THE VIAGRA WORKED! The countdown was over and we finally had liftoff! His prick rapidly became so stiff that I had to poke it with a pencil to test its rigidity. It was supernaturally firm. He entered me and I wondered -- could his penis actually burst inside of me? How would I explain this to my parents?
When it was time for the grand finale, I asked to see his big finish. His come was not only thicker than ever, there was more of it than before. Like fundamentalists, I was hoping for a second coming, but after our first go-round, his penis was too sensitive. He had a hard time walking, he had a massive headache, and he was dehydrated. Poor guy had shot out half his body weight in baby gravy over the past few days.
We decided we needed to get out of the house. We took a ride on the subway, which was a roller-coaster ride of ups and downs and ups and downs. He shifted to make himself comfortable, but I kept cruelly grinding my leg into his crotch at every turn. When we reached our destination, he had to mosey like John Wayne to make it up the stairs. It is, after all, hard to keep a good man down.
We were going to a place where he would be surrounded by pussy, both of the human and feline kind: the annual Adopt-A-Cat Show at Madison Square Garden. Since we would be rubbing up against strangers, we needed a system to stay in touch with his uncontrollable erections. Thumbs up meant he was on the rise, thumbs down meant it was a soft landing, and a thumb sideways meant we had potential.
Trolling for a pussy is one thing when you're desperate for a lay; it's something else when you're looking for a lasting relationship. And you don't go to a cat show if you're looking for a one-night stand. These pussies were looking for homes. We found cute cats, ugly cats, hairy cats, shaved cats, large and small cats. He was giving me thumbs up and thumbs down signals when one of the volunteers, the kind that you'd expect to have over 100 cats at her house, scolded us.
"Please don't judge the cats," she said. "Even if you don't think it hurts their feelings, it hurts ours."
I didn't know what to say. "Sorry lady, my boyfriend took Viagra this morning, and well, it's been touch and go for a while," I responded. "I'm kind of monitoring his erection. It looks like an up, right now. What do you think?"
My boyfriend, smiling, flashed her a big thumbs up.
She glanced down for a moment, saw the bulge, and asked us to leave.
We made it home, a touch disappointed. There was no fresh pussy for the house, and our little blue pill was all gone. But at least he had gotten hard without ketchup syrup, and he had come without burning his pee hole. And for no other reason than the Viagra did no harm to either his penis or our sex life, it was, in the end, the obvious winner.
