How Generic Viagra Helped Me Conquer Europe

You can call me William the Conqueror. I have all kinds of Generic Viagra stories to tell, and they all have an international flair to them. Which, I suppose, is completely appropriate, since Generic Viagra, much like sexual intercourse, is something that transcends differences in culture, language, and geography. You see, recently my wife and I toured Europe to celebrate our ten-year wedding anniversary. It was a trip that might have turned into a nightmare, had Generic Viagra not intervened. We had planned for a couple of years to take the "Grand Tour," as they call it-France, Italy, Germany. She wanted to "fall in love all over again." Personally, I would have preferred to fall off the Eiffel Tower, to an early but merciful death. Why, you ask, would a strapping young stallion like myself long for the cold embrace of the tomb over that of my wife? Well, I hadn't been able to get it up for months. Embracing, as a matter of fact, was about all we'd done lately, and for some reason I still didn't order any Generic Viagra. Some of you guys out there (you know who you are) can understand how hard it is to live in a home where the woman isn't getting it in the bedroom. Cold and prickly! Hmm... prickly... Well, the only thing worse than living with a sexually unsatisfied woman is taking her on a "romantic" European vacation. Thank heavens I packed some Generic Viagra!

As the date of our Grand Tour approached, and my once proud Man o' War continued to founder off her rocky coast, I became desperate, and ordered some Generic Viagra to have ready for the trip. As I'd often done in recent days, I spanked (I mean, literally spanked) my unruly gorilla in the shower, the morning of our flight, scolding it and warning it of the consequences if it didn't eat its Generic Viagra like a good boy. And I swear, it seemed to nod in agreement. I felt that, after these long months of surliness, he and I had reached some gentleman's agreement. I packed my Generic Viagra discreetly in my fanny-pack (that's right) and boarded the airline that day, planning to take my first dose in the passenger bathroom cabin. I did just that.

When we landed in France, I realized that, like some French baker, I was carrying a huge baguette in my pocket, crisp and buttery. The Generic Viagra was already working? I knew that Generic Viagra doesn't automatically cause your bread to leaven, but simply allows that dough to rise, firm and steaming, when you're aroused the old-fashioned way. Did the sight of my wife, as I walked behind her through the French airport terminal, really turn me on this much, after ten years? Apparently so! When she handed me one of her smaller bags, I impressed her by hanging it on my Jimmy. I stood there proudly beside the luggage belt, my hands on my hips, and my manhood hoisting her bag like a hotel porter. "Honey?!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Generic Viagra?" "You are correct!" I answered. "Well, honey, can you put the bag down, and keep that gorilla under wraps until we get to the hotel? People are staring!" "Honey, this is Europe-they love this sort of thing," I answered, as I passed the bag from my man-flesh coat-rack to my hand.

Jetlag be damned! Thanks to Generic Viagra, I carried her across the threshold of our 5-star hotel room and burned her at the stake. A couple of hours later, and she was calling me William the Conqueror. Luckily, I had stowed enough Generic Viagra to last the entire trip. Our Grand Tour was shaping up nicely!