Lion said he told me he was going to do another boner juice injection. I don’t remember him saying it. Of course, I’m up to my elbows in complex stuff for most of the day. It’s entirely possible I didn’t really hear him. What’s more, I probably did what he does when I say something and he’s in the middle of something: “Okay.”
About ten minutes after the injection, Lion came in the bedroom sporting a woody. Well, part of one. Sometimes it doesn’t completely inflate until I get involved. He considers this a failure. He wants to be rock hard right off the bat. I’m fine with finessing it. He’s looking for an insertable boner. So off we go for higher doses.
At some point, he’ll get to the correct dosage. It’s possible he needs a stronger compound of the drugs. Then we’ll have to start all over with the lower doses building up to the correct dose. I guess it all depends on how much juice he needs to produce that insertable boner.
I think a longer-lasting boner is more important than an insertable one. After all, if I’m putting clothespins on the boys, weenie has to play along. Obviously, even more important is his being turned on. If he’s excited, it stands to reason Mr. Weenie will stand up taller. Again, I don’t mind helping the cause along. I just want enough of a woody to give him a nice orgasm.
We are laying in the supplies for Lion’s ham radio antenna. Amazon has been delivering boxes and pouches for days. I have to hack away at the maple tree next to the chimney before I can get Lion Radio up and running. I’ve needed to prune it for a while. The branches are going every which way. I’d cut it completely down, but I don’t think the landlord would appreciate it.
All systems are go for his test tomorrow. I always knew he was a ham. Now he’ll have the license to prove it.
