My girlfriend is a high school Latin teacher. No joke. Given that information, you might assume she's a real stick-in-the-mud. The fact is, she's a little hottie, and a total sex maniac. Some nights she calls me Augustus Maximus. Others, she calls me Phallus Imperator. Others, she refers to me as Lickus Clitorissimus. That's how things were before I needed Generic Viagra. I used to give it to her long, hard, and righteous, like Cicero used to give it to his ancillae (that means slave-women, guys). I used to probe her with the scepter of Julius Caesar. She used to refer to my colossal erections as a symbol of the Roman Empire-the so-called fasces, which were a bundle of rods tied around a battle axe. Back then, I didn't need Generic Viagra to get a towering hard-on. But, hey, times changes. Empires come and go. And soon, I began having erectile dysfunction problems that could have brought an emperor to his knees. My little Latin teacher was going off to class deeply unsatisfied-it hurt me to look at her! I realized that I'd have to get serious about my problem, instead of denying it. I'd had enough of the stupid diets and holistic healing techniques that involve grinding the horn of a rhinoceros and mixing it into your coffee, and all that nonsense. I decided to order Generic Viagra, and I went online and ordered the stuff. True, I continued eating raw oysters, at least half-a-dozen a day. With generous portions of beer. This was my sexual health regimen, and I think it was a good one.

Along with the erectile dysfunction had come serious paranoia, and self-hatred. I was insanely jealous of those high school seniors of hers there in her Latin class-I knew they were all "hot for teacher," and that it wouldn't take any Generic Viagra for them to respond to her mammary glands jostling about every time she reached up to write some verb conjugation on the blackboard. I'd have to be naive to think that they were actually thinking about Latin! I wondered if one of them might stay after class and give her what I couldn't-because she was just crying out for sex. It was written on her face. If Generic Viagra didn't work for me, I knew it would only be a matter of time before one of those disgusting adolescents made her feel like a woman. Sure, it'd only last a couple of minutes-none of them would be capable of the multi-hour marathons I used to give her, back before I even had to consider Generic Viagra.

Finally, my Generic Viagra order arrived, discreetly packaged! No one knew my embarrassing secret, since I'd ordered online. I took a pill, got in the car with no underwear on, and drove to the school-I knew classes would be ending soon. And I was planning a special extra-curricular after-school activity with my wife. I pulled up and walked to her classroom, past a dozen or so repulsive, pizza-faced juvenile males, and, like some Generic Viagra Odysseus, home from his travels in the sea of erectile dysfunction, reclaimed my home and my bed and my beautiful Penelope from those usurpers. My wife smiled, surprised, as I pulled out my Ben Hur and drove her against the blackboard, where we erased the day's verb conjugations as we went at it. Moments later I'd bent her over the desk, and gave it to her like Caligula. Thank Jupiter, and all the gods, for Generic Viagra! This is how it's done, discipuli! Optime!