SAINTTS Anonymous
Hi my name is Robert
Watkins and—and – I am a SAINTTS addict.
It all started a few
months ago, when I failed to respond on several occasions. It was the most embarrassing thing to happen to me in years. My
wife and I went from having very little sex to no sex, it was time for some drastic measures. I decided to try Testosterone
to recapture my youthful desire, Levitra just to get it up, and Encyte—for well—the enlargement factor, if I ever
get it up again. Now I know each of these came with warnings, but I was desperate, I wanted to be a man again. After a few
weeks of using the cocktail, I began to feel the affects. One Friday afternoon I felt as if the time was right. My wife was
coming home a little early from work, and we had the weekend off. Despite our teenage daughter being grounded for possession
of X. She was committed to a family function so she was out of town for the weekend.
Thus began the perfect
storm. With my wife due home soon, I started my ritual, first the Testosterone, then the Levitra, next was the Encyte. At
this point everything would have been okay, at least I think so. But in the back of my mind something said what did you do
with that X tablet. Now a right thinking man would have ignored this voice. But something deep in me longed for the glory
days of my youth, maybe it was the testosterone tasking me. Either way I was lead into temptation and like Adam to the apple,
the deed was done. Soon all the little marvels of modern society started to do their thing.
I began to stir, in
fact from out of nowhere I quipped, “It's alive! It's alive!”. With that proclamation the tightness in
my trousers became to much. The shedding of my pants and undergarments became an imperative. Normally I would have been embarrassed
to stand naked in front of my bedroom mirror. But man!!—The site of my magnificent manliness, which I had not seen since
the age of 18. To be truthful I was never that magnificent, so thank God for modern medicine. With ruler in hand, I began
to sing Billy Squires ‘Stroke me Stroke me’, with a segue way into Diana Ross’s “Reach
out and touch, somebody's penis, and make this boy -- a man again”. I should have never taken that X, because
all I wanted to do is to touch someone, mostly myself. Just as I was about to yield to my beautiful serenade and my magnificent
manliness, I heard the front door open.
“Game on.”,
I shouted as my wife walked into the bedroom, her eyes as big as saucers. Once she caught her breath and commented on my new
and improve manliness. I proudly threw my arms in the air, fist clinched. I began to dance around the room shouting “Yeah
baby this is truth in advertising and I mean truth in advertising. You are looking at a true 8 inches of glory. The people
at Subway will never look at you strange again when you tell them their six inch subs are a lot longer than the six inches
you are use to. Truth in advertising, truth in advertising baby. Break out the ruler.”. After a quick measurement
and a Oh My from my wife, it was on. First a little naked limbo. Oh My! Downward facing dog transitioning into
upward facing dog. Oh My! I was like a matador. I brought out the “O” in my wife—so many times,
and I put the le in 'O'le, that night for sure—Oh My! So great was I, that after 17 years of marriage,
she swallow my line(no pun attended) about it hurting only a little and that it is a good kind of pain. She looked me in the
eye all sweaty and said, “Best sex ever—permission so granted”. With that she rolled over and let
out an “oh my oh my” and the most sensual moan I have ever heard. I indulged with a “Oh—Oh
my!” and with a hearty “yoo hoo, yoo hoo hoo”. It was so pleasurably. I am not 100% sure but
I believe it was at this point we both became SAINTTS addicts. She loved everything we did that night.. I had the stamina
of Lance Armstrong, I was like the piston from hell, all built for sin. Several times my wife reminded me of Nadia Comaneci
Scoring perfect 10’s in so many positions and in so many ways. Oh My! But like all indulgences, this much pleasure,
came with a price.
It was 4 in the morning,
and my wife sleeps with a smile on her face. But I was wide awake with this silly chant running through my mind. “Oh
Warrior, oh warrior, come out and play”. I felt like the ultimate warrior. There was no doubt about it, I was still
hungry. I knew this was not good, because my wife was tapped out. I knew she was going to be sore in places she was never
sore in before. So I thought maybe if I took a wicked piss, I would go back to my normal self. Not only that, it would feel
really good to pass a solid stream of urine through my sensitive little head. I was so assumed with the pending pleasure,
that I forgot one of the lessons of youth. Just as I was about to experience my most anticipated pleasure the thought hit
me like a ton of bricks. Sex, cotton sheets, and drying time. It was too late, oh no! CSI arterial urine spray. Oh no CSI
arterial urine splatter.
The place was a mess,
it looked as if someone opened a shaken can of Mountain Dew. Cleaning it up was not an option, all I wanted was some more
action. I entered the bedroom ready to do the next scene from our own personal porn movie 'The erection to long'. I
looked at her all satisfied. And I thought—I saw—I banged, and I banged—she came, and came. I have truly
conquered, I needed some new territory to conquer. As many of you know, one of the problems with SAINTTS is, you are
never satisfied when you are in that condition.
Prostitutes become almost
a must, no matter how much the Olympic athlete your lover may be, they are never enough. I would have felt bad for having
those thoughts but in my condition, with 8 hungry inches, all I could think of was that 'a good erection is like a good
mind—it’s a terrible thing to waste'. While leaving the house, dress like a perverted pimp, a wave of fear
washed over me. The thought of getting arrested in my condition frighten me, what would the other prisoners do to me. More
importantly what would I do to them in my condition. The homosexual thought was to much. At this point I headed straight for
the emergency room, perverted pimp gear and all. No choice left, I was going to kill the magnificent beast that had made me
a man again.
Just one traffic light
from the hospital parking garage and there she was. A vision of loveliness no doubt sent from the devil himself. My god I
thought, it is 4 in the morning and she was still plying her trade. A moral dilemma at 4 in the morning, not in my condition.
I had often wondered how many people she has serviced in that hospital parking garage. I must resist the dark urge, I must
not become one of the thousands served. Boy she looked awful good. I was praying for that traffic light to hurry up and change.
When oh no, she opened the door and got in. How could this be happening I did not say a word, honest, well that is how I remembered
it the first time. They obviously know how to spot a man looking for a little, if she only knew I was looking for a whole
lot more than a little. Her first words “I love a man in a turgid state.”. Then again maybe she did know.
I was wondering how
much this woman would cost me literally and figuratively. With a gleam in her eye she let me know she had not been on a penis
like mine in a couple of hours. She then let me know that she thought it was a shame to have to charge me for what she was
about to do to it. At this point, price was no concern, and I flashed back to my more manly days, my military days. Oh no
I thought, I have not done anything like this since the Philippines. But then again, I loved the women in the Philippines,
and the loving they gave me—for a price that is. The only thing I loved more than those Philippine women were those
beautiful British nurses on Diego Garcia. They didn’t love me all night long, but they sure did ease the pain from all
that good Philippine loving.
Here I go again reliving
my youth. I slid the seat back and threw open my coat. Her eyes lite up and she whipped out the gold coin condom and whispered
in my ear. She let me know it would be more her pleasure than mine, my ego soared and I think my penis grew a couple more
inches. “50 bucks grandpa, for 75 the old lady can watch.” she stated. What the hell was she talking about.
Apparently that was her Pretty Woman homage some of the guys really dig it. Makes them think they are banging Julia Roberts.
I just wanted to bang something real hard, again and again. She made a move and started her thing. I should have been ashamed
but it was feeling good, really good. Man oh man could that pro really really work it. Surely when she was done, I would be
done. I mean how much longer could I last. Man she actually smelled good and her sweat was like a magic elixir, which seemed
addicting. Boy was she sweating, 20 minutes into her endeavor and she was feeling it and I was feeling it. Nothing less than
an Olympic athlete she must have been. Go girl Go girl, I cheered her on. I was very sensitive and feeling every stroke.
She endeavored to persevere,
but to no avail. Where as she and I came a few times in our thirty minutes together. I remained resolute in my stiffness,
my ego only grew in arrogance at my ability to defeat a pro. “I am king of the world”, I shouted. She replied,
“give me another 100 and 15 min to recover and we will see about all that king stuff.”. Then I thought
only what modern medicine has wrought, can it kill. This little Frankenstein of mine. Oh what erections we achieve when
first we practice to deceive—father time—that is.
Down to my last option.
I walked into the emergency room in my perverted pimp gear, pitching a major tent----still. Upon entering, one glance from
the admittance nurse and she quips “Another sundial walking”. I would have been embarrassed if it was not
for the saucer like eyes of the women in the waiting room, and slight nods of approval from the men waiting. Once again, not
the ego boost I needed when I was trying to kill the magnificent monster under my coat.
My announcement of I
need help did not come as a surprise to her. Her very polite how can I help you smacked of sarcasm. But who was I to complain,
I just wanted her to make it go away. After explaining the situation and the problem, she pushed away from the desk and signaled
for security. Not until she determined I was alone did she release the security guard. I cant say that about my third visit,
when I was accompanied by my wife. You all know the hazards involved with bringing your wife with you to the emergency room.
Well, anyway after she had determined I was alone, I heard the words. You are suffering from Severe Artificially Induced
Non Terminating Turgid State, or SAINTTS for short. It was the first time but not the last time I would hear them. In
fact when one of the nurses quipped we should give you your own parking pass. That's when I knew it was time for some help.
My wife is still in denial, but as for me, I need help. My daughter is attending another rave tonight....
Top of page
By B. Bell
