OH GOD! I felt like I was sitting on a telephone pole! Suddenly, I could empathize with the recipients of the ancient punishment called impalement - hoisted aloft on a grape-stake driven lengthways through their torsos (starting - guess where?)!I screamed like a little girl. Some detached part of me knew what I sounded like, but the part of me in the here and now didn't care. That damned club kept going, and, true to her word, I soon felt the side handle parting my scrotum as it pressed between my balls.'Oh, thank God!' I thought, 'That's as far as it can go!'Boy, was I wrong! Gallagher withdrew the club a few inches and rotated it 180 degrees. "Let's see if you can take it all!" She rasped.Oh, Damn! More gut-shifting, hard pushing, twisting, screaming on my part, and even some grunting from the club wielder, and I felt the base of the side handle jammed against the top of my butthole.Panting, Gallagher leaned over my back again. "Look down!" she whispered harshly.I did, and was. . “I’m Amy. You are?” “Ian. I’m Ian O’Connell.” I had to say it twice, as if I needed reassurance that it was really me, Ian O’Connell, inviting this goddess, this marvel of the female sex, back to my room. “It is a pleasure, Ian. Now, you were saying something about needing to be escorted back to your room?” She took another slow drag on the cigarette, and something inside of me trembled, knowing what was to come. Her hand again in mine, we started towards the lifts. My hand shook a bit as I pressed the button for my floor, and as the doors closed behind us, I turned to her, placing my hands on her wide hips and pulling her towards me, desperate to touch her, to make her real. The lift reached my floor entirely too soon, the doors opening to the long, plushly carpeted hallway. We stepped out, my left arm now wrapped around her slender, soft waist, and began to walk towards my room. She took a drag on the cigarette, turned to me and, laughing, said, “It appears that you quite know.
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