Admiring the Great Pyramids, with Generic Viagra

It's me, "Ramses," "Erekticles," "Phallus Augustus," filing another report from the European Tour my wife and I are enjoying. She's enjoyed more sex in the past week than she had in the previous year, thanks to the Generic Viagra I brought along on for the ride. Considering what it's done for me, they should make you buy those little blue pills their own seat on the airplane. After giving it to my wife like a wild beast in several European capitals, we darted down to Northern Africa, for an exotic stay in Egypt, where she smoked my long, red-hot hookah night after night-with Generic Viagra, there was no limit to our sexual high jinks. She'd already begun comparing me to Ramses-or, more accurately, the colossal statues of the great Pharaoh-because of my similarly monumental manhood, large and mighty enough to crush nations. When she saw the actual mummy of Ramses, though, she compared his shriveled, dried-up corpse to the state of my twig and berries back when it was ravaged by erectile dysfunction. But I explained that Ramses had been embalmed only to be resurrected, to enjoy Eternal Life-just as my own pleasure piston had been stirred back to vigorous life, after teetering on the brink of the grave. To prove it, I took her back to the hotel and gave her a good plugging. And all it took to make this happen was a single pill of Generic Viagra, taken just a while earlier at dinner.

After my long and prosperous reign in the bedroom the night before, thanks to Generic Viagra, my wife and I headed to the Great Pyramid complex at Giza, to learn more about the Pharaoh's future life in eternity. I explained that Ramses would have everything there that he had here on earth, only in greater abundance. Since he'd had a dozen or so wives here, there was no telling what sort of harem he'd have on those distant shores. "He'll have a hundred sex goddesses fighting over his Johnson!" I imagined. "Maybe he'll have a hundred Johnsons? Everything in abundance..." quipped my wife. "Good point, honey." "Since you've been using that Generic Viagra, I sometimes feel as if I'm being ravished by some hundred-Johnsoned incubus. Look, it's the Sphinx!" And sure enough-there, just ahead, over a sand dune, we saw the timeless silhouette of the Sphinx rising tall and proud-just like my scepter after a does of Generic Viagra. "Its nose is missing!" I said. My wife, the Art History major, explained: "You ignorant gigolo! Napoleon's troops shot it off while taking target practice." "Well, better that than his tail... look at that long thing, wrapping around him!" "Um, that's not his tail..." said my wife, a bit frightened, putting her arm around my waist. "And that's not my car keys!" I joked, as she ran up against something hard and prickly beneath my jeans. "Remember, we're on vacation! And I'm using Generic Viagra!"

Yep, I had a raging Valley of the Kings-sized hard-on. And it wasn't going away anytime soon-not until the Anwar Dam burst, and my boiling, pent-up torrent flowed down her sacred, fertile river valley. I'll admit it-with my newfound Generic Viagra virility, I was starting to get really kinky. I was verging on exhibitionism-looking more and more to do it in public, to let the peoples of the world know that my wife and I were having the same earth-shaking sex we'd enjoyed in college, all because I ordered some Generic Viagra. I knew I had to have her, right then and there. But in the middle of a desert? Not even a bush to crouch behind? Hell, the only bush for miles around was between her legs. It was a Generic Viagra cliff-hanger, alright. I'll tell you what happened another time.