September 28, 2005

Crushing Omaha

By Daddy © 2005

I have chest pains.

I've been to the hospital twice, and to two separate doctors on two separate occasions. This has all happened in the last two years.

The verdict is always the same.

I'm fine they tell me.

The thing is, I’m not fucking fine. I know this.

Flash forward to a month ago. It's the weekend of my second wedding anniversary, and love is very much in the air. One of my golfing buddies had given me a Viagra pill earlier in the day, and told me to proceed with caution.

"You’ll fuck like you’re sixteen again."

I wrapped it up nicely in my cigarette cellophane, and tucked it away in my pocket. I had tree trouble on twelve and thirteen (saved par and bogey respectively), mostly because I was thinking about the damage I would be dishing out later in the evening. Pain. We used to call it "longdickin'."

When I finally got home around sunset, I noticed a bottle of the local vintner's cabernet sitting on the dining room table. It was officially on. I knew my wife would be sporting her new Victoria’s Secret lingerie, and I had a secret of my own. A little blue secret.

She didn't know it yet, but she had a date with the Vanilla Gorilla.

We lit a few candles, and cracked open the bottle of wine. I knew the action was right around the corner, so during one of my many piss breaks, I dropped the V. I wanted to give Little Elvis a chance to get stretched out a bit before I put him through an evening's worth of boot camp.

Then it happened.

My chest started to swell, and I thought my heart was going to explode. I could feel a tingling sensation in my left arm, and a cold sweat broke over my brow. I started having severe breathing problems, and I thought I was going to drop dead on the spot. The tightness was worse than ever, and I knew I needed immediate medical attention.

On the way to the hospital my wife tried to keep my spirits up as I kept a cold washcloth to my forehead. I didn't think I was going to make it. My breathing was choppy, and I was nauseous.

When we reached the emergency room they took me back immediately. They ran an EKG on me, and while I was awaiting the results they put me into a hospital gown. They also told me that I'd be getting chest X-rays shortly. While I was laying there I noticed that I was rock hard, and that I couldn't contain it in the loose gown I was wearing. I still felt like my heart could explode at any minute, so the erection was really the least of my worries.

I laid in the emergency room bed for almost ten minutes when the nurse finally came in to see me. She was fairly young, and extremely attractive. I started to feel a bit embarrassed when she approached me because I knew my tent was pitched for all to see. She tried to keep solid eye contact, but I could easily see that she was uncomfortable.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I just ate a Viagra about thirty minutes ago. I'm guessing that’s what spurred my chest pains."

I couldn't keep from laughing when I said this, and I had a feeling she thought that this was all a joke. It most certainly wasn't.

Much to my dismay she left the room, and told me that she was going to get a doctor to check up on me. My nerves started to rattle, and the pain in my chest grew ever more intense. I kept thinking to myself that this was probably the most fitting way for such a wise-ass jokester to die, and the thought of imminent death had me paralyzed.

A few minutes had elapsed when the doctor entered with a clipboard. He asked me how I felt, and I told him I thought I was going to die. He told me that my EKG results showed no problems, and that they were preparing the X-ray room for me.

I also noticed that he kept noticing me.

"Nurse Samuelson mentioned that you just recently consumed a Viagra?"

"Yes, about an hour ago."

"Well, there are a few things we could possibly do that could relieve you. If you know what I mean."

He winked at me.

What the fuck?

"Sir, I, um, I'm flattered, but I'm married. And, I'm straight. And, I feel like my fucking heart is getting ready to explode."

"I just went over your full EKG report, and you're perfectly fine. Besides, I would be more than happy to make it worth your while."


He approached me, leaned over and whispered into my ear, "I'll give you a thousand dollars."

"Sir, again, I'm married. And, I'm happily straight. Is there any chance I can get another doctor to take care of me?"

"I'll give you two thousand dollars, lock the door, and nobody will ever know about it."

Next thing I know, I’m getting a world class blowjob, and all I can think about is crushing that pot limit Omaha game down on the riverboat.

Daddy is a donkey fucker from Hill Jack, Indiana.

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